The streets felt eerily quiet as Orion walked alongside Clary, Jace, and Simon. Brooklyn had never seemed this alien to him before. The buildings stretched impossibly high, their shadows dancing in the faint glow of streetlights. Every noise—every gust of wind, distant siren, or shifting shadow—set Orion's nerves on edge. Something was changing in the air, a feeling of crossing into a new world hidden just beneath the surface of his reality.
Clary's hands were clenched into fists at her sides, her knuckles white. Simon, walking slightly behind her, shifted nervously, clutching a flashlight as though it were a sword. Jace led the group with a calm that Orion found unnerving. The way Jace moved—light on his feet, fluid yet deliberate—reminded him of a predator.
"You're awfully quiet," Jace said, breaking the silence. His tone was light, but there was an edge of suspicion to it.
"Thinking," Orion replied curtly, his grip tightening on the metal pipe he still carried.
Jace smirked, glancing back over his shoulder. "Dangerous habit. Thinking too much will get you killed in this world."
"Not thinking will get you killed faster," Orion shot back, his gray eyes narrowing.
Clary groaned. "Could you two stop? We've got bigger things to deal with."
Simon nodded quickly, his voice nervous. "Yeah, like, I don't know—monsters? Demons? Creepy shadow places? Take your pick."
"Relax," Jace said, his smirk widening. "We're almost there."
Orion wasn't sure what "there" meant, but he could feel the shift in the atmosphere. The further they walked, the more the city seemed to change. The streets grew narrower, the buildings taller, and the lights dimmer. It felt as though they were walking into a different version of Brooklyn, one that had been hidden all along.
"How much farther?" Clary asked, her voice trembling just slightly.
Jace slowed, his gaze scanning the dark street ahead. "Not far. The Institute's just beyond that corner."
"The Institute," Simon muttered. "Sounds like a creepy cult."
Jace shot him a glare but didn't bother responding. Orion glanced at Simon, feeling a pang of sympathy. The guy had been dragged into this without any preparation, and yet here he was, trying to keep up despite clearly being terrified.
The group turned the corner, and Orion's breath caught in his throat.
A towering Gothic structure loomed before them, its spires reaching high into the night sky. The building seemed impossibly old, its weathered stone walls bathed in moonlight. There were no lights in the windows, yet the structure seemed to hum with energy. It was as though the building itself were alive, watching them approach.
"This is it," Jace said, his voice softer now, almost reverent.
Simon frowned. "What is it? A church?"
"Not exactly," Jace replied, his smirk returning. "It's the New York Institute. Home of the Shadowhunters. And your welcome committee."
"Great," Simon muttered. "Can't wait to meet them."
Orion stayed silent, his eyes fixed on the building. There was something unsettling about it, something that made his skin crawl. Yet at the same time, he felt a strange pull toward it, as though some unseen force were urging him forward.
Clary hesitated, her gaze flickering between Jace and the Institute. "So… we just walk in?"
"More or less," Jace said, striding toward the building.
As they followed, Orion couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched. His gaze darted to the shadows, his grip tightening on the pipe in his hand.
"What's wrong?" Clary asked, noticing his unease.
"Nothing," Orion lied, his voice steady. "Just… keeping an eye out."
The group reached the massive double doors of the Institute. Jace placed his hand against the surface, and for a moment, nothing happened. Then, with a soft click, the doors swung inward, revealing a dimly lit hallway that stretched into darkness.
Simon hesitated. "So, uh… are we just walking into the spooky shadow building? Or is there some kind of, I don't know, safety protocol?"
"No safety protocol," Jace said with a grin. "Just don't touch anything."
Simon looked like he wanted to protest, but Clary had already stepped inside, her expression set with determination. Orion followed close behind, his senses on high alert.
The air inside the Institute was cool and still, carrying a faint scent of old stone and something metallic. The walls were lined with intricate carvings and tapestries, their designs unfamiliar yet oddly mesmerizing.
"What is this place?" Clary asked, her voice echoing slightly in the empty hall.
"A safe haven," Jace replied. "For people like me."
"And what about people like us?" Simon asked, his tone laced with sarcasm.
"That depends," Jace said, his grin widening. "Can you fight demons?"
Simon groaned, muttering something about bad life choices.
Orion barely registered their exchange. His attention was drawn to a large mural on the wall, depicting an angel holding a flaming sword. The artistry was stunning, the details so vivid it felt as though the angel might step out of the painting at any moment.
"Impressive, isn't it?" Jace said, noticing Orion's gaze.
Orion nodded slowly. "Yeah… it is."
Clary stepped closer, her eyes scanning the mural. "What does it mean?"
"It's the story of Raziel," Jace explained. "The angel who created the Shadowhunters. He gave them the power to fight demons, to protect the world from things that most people can't even imagine."
"Sounds like a big responsibility," Orion said, his voice quiet.
Jace shrugged. "It is. But someone has to do it."
Before anyone could respond, a sharp voice cut through the air.
"Jace! What in Raziel's name are you doing?"
A tall, dark-haired man strode into view, his expression a mixture of irritation and concern. Behind him was a woman with auburn hair and piercing green eyes. Both of them carried themselves with the kind of authority that made it clear they were used to being in charge.
"Bringing friends," Jace said casually, gesturing to the group.
The man's eyes narrowed as he looked them over. "These aren't Shadowhunters."
"No," Jace agreed. "But they're involved. Clary's mother has been taken, and—"
"Wait," the woman interrupted, her gaze snapping to Clary. "You're Jocelyn's daughter?"
Clary blinked. "You… you know my mom?"
The woman exchanged a look with the man, her expression unreadable. "Come with me," she said finally. "All of you."
Simon hesitated. "Uh, I'm not really part of this…"
"You are now," the woman said firmly.
Orion exchanged a glance with Clary, who looked just as confused as he felt. Whatever was happening, it was bigger than any of them had realized.
As they followed the Shadowhunters deeper into the Institute, Orion felt a strange sense of foreboding. The pieces of his life—the runes, the monsters, the strange power stirring within him—were beginning to fit together.
And he had a feeling that once the puzzle was complete, there would be no going back.