Grow Colder

January 10, 1993, 7:30 PM, Forbidden Forest, Hogwarts

Adam Clarke

My heart raced as I rushed towards Absol, her form lying still on the forest floor. I knelt beside her, my hands trembling and panic gripping me in a tight hold. I reached out to touch her making sure not to accidentally hurt her. The sight of her injuries filled me with a sense of dread, and I felt a fresh surge of fear coursing through my veins.

“Absol, what happened?” I cried out, my voice drenched in alarm. I searched her face for any sign of consciousness. “Absol?”

But she remained silent, her eyes barely open as she lay unmoving beneath my touch.

Just as I feared the worst, I heard her voice in my mind, a faint whisper that echoed through the depths of my consciousness.

~Poacher…~ She projected, her words filled with urgency. ~Blackthorn.~

The weight of her words hit me with the force of a sledgehammer, sending a chill down my spine. Blackthorn— the name alone filled me with incandescent rage. I thought they’d given up, but here they were.

Attacking me and mine. Again.

FOCUS! My mind roared at me before the anger truly took hold. Absol needs your help, and fast! Get pissed later!

With an effort of supreme will, I pushed the fury down, letting it be for now as I continued to check over Absol, adjusting her body so that she could be in a more comfortable position to rest all the while. I glanced over at Harry and Hagrid, their expressions ones of shock and fear.

I interrupted both Harry and Hagrid before they could speak, urgency driving my actions.

“No.” I instructed them firmly, barely able to keep the fury from my voice as I gestured towards her prone form. “Help me, then we’ll talk.”

Hagrid, ever the lover of beasts, lumbered over to join me, his immense strength a reassuring presence as he helped me carefully move Absol around so I could inspect her injuries. My heart clenched with worry as I took in the sight of her, battered and bruised from her encounter with the poachers.

Meanwhile, Harry stood nervously in the background, drawing his wand and holding tightly in his hand, just in case there were more attackers. I could see the conflict in his eyes as he gazed at the poacher lying beside him, uncertainty warring with determination. But for now, there were more pressing matters at hand, and I knew that Harry would do whatever it took to ensure Absol’s safety.

Together, Hagrid and I worked quickly and methodically to assess Absol’s injuries, our movements efficient as we checked for any signs of serious harm. With each passing moment, my concern for her grew along with anger towards the Blackthorns, but I pushed aside my fear, focusing instead on the task at hand.

With a sense of determination, I drew upon my knowledge of healing magic and reached into my robe’s inner pockets. A moment later, I was carefully administering a dose of Wiggenweld Potion to Absol.

I didn’t wait for the potion to take effect, instead drawing my wand and focusing my energy, will and desire, holding it over the worst of her injuries— the long slice through her wings.

“Hold the wing membrane closer for me, Hagrid?” I said even as he pre-empted me. “Thank you.”

A moment later, I cast the spell, willing her wounds to heal and beseeching life return to her damaged cells. Episkey.

A moment passed, and I almost thought it had failed. Then, to my relief, her separated membranes fused together once again, the line separating them thinning gradually before stopping. I didn’t allow myself any time to be complacent; I cast the spell again, and twice more just to make sure.

Hagrid nodded in approval as he observed my efforts, his reassuring presence lending me strength.

“Good, good. That oughta do it, Adam.” Hagrid rumbled, his voice filled with reassurance as he took my attention away from the healing process.

“You sure?”

“Oh, yes.” He said. “She’s out of any immediate danger now. No permanent damage to her wing, either— she’ll be able to fly, still.”

I stared at him for a few seconds, still unsure but deciding to trust his expertise. I sagged a little, the weight of the past events finally catching up to me. Gently, I caressed Absol’s neck, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath my touch.

Through our connection, I sensed that she was only in a deep healing sleep, her body slowly repairing itself from the ordeal she had endured.

Who knows when she’ll wake up. Hopefully she hasn’t taken any blows to the head. I thought, checking her just to be sure. Broken bones can be fixed, cuts can be healed. I’m not too sure about 

My mind quickly returned to the unsettling question of why she had been attacked in the first place.

“This is a right mess.” Hagrid said, his frow furrowed in concern as he broke the silence. “What d’yeh think happened here?”

Harry shook his head, still very jumpy. “I dunno.”

“It was poachers.” I stated blankly, prompting both Hagrid and Harry to turn to me in surprise.

“How d’yeh know that?” Hagrid asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

“Absol told me.” I replied, my tone solemn. “Through our connection.”

Hagrid’s eyes widened in astonishment, his expression mirroring the shock I felt when I first discovered my ability to communicate with Absol telepathically. Harry, already knowing this, simply nodded, his expression grave as he absorbed the information.

“Why would poachers go after Absol and not the obvious choice, Astrid?” Harry questioned, his voice laced with concern. “No offense, Adam.”

“None taken.” My eyes immediately went to the lifeless body lying beside Harry, my gaze fixed on it for a long, contemplative moment.

The man’s body lay sprawled on the forest floor, his features frozen in a grim mask of death. I studied him intently, the intense rage in my heart heavy slowly being replaced by a cold fury.

My mind raced as I tried to make sense of the situation. Two men were dead, their lives snuffed out due to their insatiable greed— not that I cared about scumbag poachers, in the first place, but they would still be alive were it not for the ones who hired them.

The people in question were fueled by vengeance and pride. What else could this attack be motivated by but vengeance? With their heir humiliated in public by a child, and then adding their own humiliation into the fold in front of several Ministry officials, I should have expected such an answer.

I just didn’t think this would happen so soon, or on such an out of the way target like Absol.

I took a deep breath, resisting the urge to clench my fists and rage at the world. I continued to caress my unconscious friend’s neck. I needed to be smart about this.

Focus, Clarke. I thought to myself. What are my options?

Obviously, bringing this to the authorities was a fool’s move. I knew that all too well.

Fudge may have risen up in my eyes in terms of his stance against Grindelwald, but he was still a politician. I expected that, if I brought this forward to the Ministry, then the Blackthorns could twist it around and possibly force Fudge in a position in which he would have Thestral put down for harming a wizard.

I had no political capital of my own beyond being a gifted youth, while the Blackthorns likely had decades of clout. He wouldn’t side with me simply to avoid any potential scandals, much as he would have with Buckbeak in the third book.

It’d be a grave political misstep on his part. I thought. I hate it; it sucks, but that’s the reality of it. But what the Hell is left to me?

As I grappled with my options, a sense of helplessness washed over me. I knew that whatever choice I made would have far-reaching implications. Whether good or bad, I didn’t know.

As I looked upon the lifeless body before me, an idea alighted within the darkest confines of my mind.

They want to attack me, fine. I thought, fury seeping into my being and igniting my soul with its frosty flames. Humiliate me, insult me, hurt me, I don’t care. But threaten my family…? No matter who they are, I will…

“This is a right mess…” Hagrid said again, huffing as he stepped away from Absol. I could feel his gaze on me, but I said nothing for the moment, instead allowing myself to be swept away by my emotions.

“Adam…?” Harry asked, trying to get my attention, but I didn’t answer.

“Let him be for a moment.” Hagrid said, waving the boy off.

Harry nodded anxiously before turning his gaze to the half-giant. He wrung his hands as he spoke. “Hagrid, what are we supposed to do?”

“I’m not too sure, myself.” Hagrid said, scratching his beard as he gestured towards the body. “We can’t jus’ leave ‘im here. Anyone can find him.”

“Maybe…” Harry said slowly. “Maybe we should go to Professor Dumbledore. He’ll know what to do.”

“Might be the only way—”

“No.” I cut them both off all of a sudden, startling the two.

“Adam?”

I shook my head even as I got to my feet. “No. We can’t involve Dumbledore.”

“What?” Harry said, dumbfounded by my statement. “Are you crazy? Dumbledore’s the only one who can help us. He’ll know we didn’t do anything wrong.”

I shook my head, my resolve unwavering. “You’re wrong.”

“How?”

“The moment news of this surfaces, it will be a scandal for the Ministry.” I said. “Right in the middle of the League, it—”

I stopped for a second, before checking my surroundings.

“Adam…?” Hagrid asked, sounding concerned. “What’s wrong?”

I took a breath before drawing my wand once again, refining my will to seek out any other person here. Homenum Revelio!

A moment passed as I processed the information and sighed in relief. “I was just checking if there was anyone else here.”

“…And?”

“We’re good.” I said, before focusing back on the two again. “Like I said, it’ll be a scandal. A murder on the grounds, Fudge will move to punish whoever is responsible faster than you can say ‘Quidditch’!”

Hagrid’s face darkened even as I spoke. He understood.

“That won’t happen.” Harry said, but I only shook my head.

“It will.” I shot back, sending the boy a glare and freezing him in place with its intensity. “I looked them up; the Blackthorns aren’t as big a family as, say, the Malfoys, but they have enough connections to make this whole thing stink if they catch wind of it. Fudge isn’t stupid, and he won’t commit political suicide like that.”

“…” Harry absorbed the words, sagging in defeat at the prospect of what we were facing. “So, there’s nothing we can do? Is that it?”

“Nothing we can do with Dumbledore, at any rate.” I said, keeping my tone insistent. “We need to handle this ourselves. Getting the Headmaster involved would only complicate things further.”

Hagrid and Harry exchanged a worried glance, but ultimately, they nodded in agreement.

“All right.” Harry said, turning to me with a furrowed brow. “So, what do we do?”

I met his gaze with determination.

“You and Hagrid need to go and clean up Astrid.” I replied, my tone steady. “Make sure she’s okay, rinse the blood off, that sort of thing.”

Harry nodded, though he looked queasy just thinking about it. Still, he trusted my judgment, and I could see the determination in his expression as he prepared to carry out the task at hand.

“And what about you?” Hagrid asked, his concern evident in his voice.

I offered him a mirthless smile.

“I’ll take care of things here, Hagrid.” I assured him. When the man didn’t budge, I just shook my head.

“Don’t worry about me, old man.” I said, giving him a nod. “I’m not going to go after Blackthorn, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Well, Blackthorn junior, anyway.

My words seemed to soothe the man’s concerns, however, judging by how his anxious features smoothed over to something calmer.

“I’ve got things on this end.” I said again.

“All righ’, Adam.” Hagrid said. “I’ll be back as soon as I’m done.”

“Sure.” I said, and watched them leave in search for Astrid while I stayed behind with Absol.

A few moments passed, and I checked again to see if there was anyone watching.

I didn’t detect anyone, and so I turned to the corpse of the poacher.

After a moment’s hesitation, I turned towards the lifeless body lying on the forest floor. With a sense of grim determination, I began to search through the man’s robe pockets, my hands fumbling in the dim light of the clearing.

My fingers closed around a heavy sack, and I withdrew it from the pocket, the jingle of Galleons echoing in the stillness of the forest. My search didn’t end there. I continued to rifle through the man’s pockets, finding a watch, some Sickles and Knuts, and a small bit of parchment tucked away inside.

Curiosity piqued, I unfolded the parchment and began to read its contents, my eyes scanning the words:

“Borgin and Burkes, January 30th, 10 PM.
Bring proof of deed to receive the rest of your payment.”

Though it was entirely unnecessary, I read through it twice more to make sure I was sure of what the orders were for this sap.

“Proof of deed, huh?” I said. No longer able to hold the fury back, my face turned into something truly horrible and alien, then.

So, the Blackthorns tried to hire people to kill Absol in order to send a message, did they? I slowly thought to myself. Maybe I should send a message of my own.

It would be one they wouldn’t soon forget.

I went to work.

oooo

Meanwhile, at an unknown time and place…

A young boy, just shy of fourteen, sat in the dimly lit confines of his room. His gaze was fixed on the bare, pitted concrete wall opposite him, the rough surface a stark reminder of the harsh reality of his existence.

Surrounded by the cold, sterile atmosphere, he felt a sense of isolation that seemed to both empower and weaken his psyche. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been outside. Time seemed to stand still in this underground hell.

With a huff, he leaned back against the unforgiving concrete wall, his mind drifting into a state of numbness. It was easier not to think, to let the emptiness envelop him and drown out the noise of his own thoughts.

The young boy couldn’t recall the last time he’d felt the warmth of the Sun on his skin or seen the vast blue sky stretching out above him. It had been years, at least, since he had tasted the freedom of the world outside these bunker walls.

This was his life now, confined to the underground depths, bound by the rules and regulations imposed upon him by those in charge.

He did what they told him to do, obeying their orders without question. It was the only way to survive. Those who didn’t… Well, they found their lives summarily cut short.

Every day was a struggle to maintain some semblance of normalcy, to cling to whatever shreds of humanity remained in this desolate place.

He wouldn’t allow this place to break him. Despite the oppressive atmosphere and the constant surveillance, he clung to a fierce sense of inner strength. He knew that he was capable of more than what his instructors believed, and one day, he would show them just how powerful he truly was.

The young boy’s thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the creaking of the door, signaling the entrance of three men dressed in vibrant tribal attire. The reds, greens, blues and yellows in their vibrant garments clashed starkly against the dreary gray backdrop of the bunker, creating a jarring contrast that left the boy momentarily stunned.

He stared at them in complete incomprehension, his mind struggling to process the surreal sight before him. Their lips moved, forming words that he could not hear over the pounding of his own heart.

As his hearing gradually returned, the young boy watched in silence as the lead man turned to the entrance, his words ringing in the air like a harsh accusation. “Is the boy damaged in the brain? He didn’t answer my question.”

A knot formed in the boy’s stomach as he registered the implications of the man’s words. He felt a surge of unease wash over him, his instincts sharpening in an instant.

Then, another figure emerged from the shadows, and the boy’s heart skipped a beat as he recognized him as the lead disciplinarian. Fear mingled with defiance as he braced himself for the confrontation that was sure to follow.

The disciplinarian strode forward, his gaze fixed on the boy with a stern intensity.

“Answer the question.” He commanded, his voice brooking no disobedience.

The boy met his gaze with a defiant glare, though a flicker of apprehension danced in his eyes.

“I didn’t hear it.” The boy replied tersely, his tone tinged with defiance.

The disciplinarian’s expression hardened, his patience wearing thin. “Is that so?”

The boy only nodded. “Their appearance startled me, sir. Too much color.”

That wasn’t the answer his superior wanted to hear. He raised his hand, ready to inflict the brutal punishment the boy had long since grown used to, but the lead man laughed, staying the disciplinarian’s hand.

“I suppose it’s all understandable, with how dreary this place is.” The leader said, clapping his hands together as his jovial face turned sharp in an instant. “What’s your name, boy?”

“My name is Kai.”

“Kai.” The old man gave a slight nod of acknowledgment. “And what do you know of your past, Kai?”

What? Kai thought, not having expected a question like that. “My… My past, sir?”

“Yes, child.” He said, affecting a small smile as he gestured for the men behind him to vacate the room; a few seconds later, they were both alone. “Your past. What do you remember?”

Kai hesitated, his mind racing as he tried to piece together the fragments of his memories. It was as if he were trying to navigate through a dense fog, his thoughts clouded and elusive.

“I… I don’t remember anything.” Kai admitted reluctantly. “All I know is this place.”

The man’s expression softened, a hint of dismay flickering in his eyes as he shook his head.

With a gentle pat on Kai’s shoulder, he offered a small measure of comfort, though Kai couldn’t help but flinch at the unexpected gesture. Pain had become such a familiar companion in his time here, and yet this person’s touch felt strangely soothing, almost comforting in its own way.

Summoning his courage, Kai looked up at the man, his eyes searching for answers. “Who are you?”

For a moment, the man seemed lost in thought, his gaze distant as if lost in memories of his own. Then, with a sigh, he met Kai’s eyes and revealed the truth.

“I am your chief.” He said quietly, his words heavy.

Kai’s brow furrowed in confusion as he repeated the word “chief”, his mind struggling to make sense of the revelation.

The man sighed softly, his gaze distant as he began to explain.

“When you were young, Kai, you were saved from a band of evil men.” He began. “Men from the MACUSA who attacked our people, forcing us to scatter to the winds, to hide and train our children to be able to fight back, one day.”

As the man spoke, a flood of memories washed over Kai, fragmented glimpses of a past he could barely recall. Images of chaos and destruction flickered through his mind, leaving him feeling disoriented and overwhelmed.

The man fell silent, allowing Kai to absorb the weight of his words, to grapple with the reality of his past. For a moment, the air hung heavy with unspoken emotions, the echoes of the past reverberating through the dimly lit room.

“And my parents?” Kai asked. “What about them?”

The chief shook his head sadly, his expression grave. “I do not know. So many people died in the attack… It wouldn’t be beyond reason to assume that they were among them.”

A sense of emptiness washed over Kai as he processed the chief’s words. Part of him was disappointed, aching for a connection to something outside of this place. Another part of him, darker and more primal, however, didn’t care very much. His parents were gone because they were weak, unable to protect themselves in the face of danger.

With a solemn nod, Kai accepted the chief’s words, banishing thoughts of his parents like it was nothing— because that’s exactly what they were.

Weaklings. Worthless.

“That is why I’m here, however.” The Chief said, getting the boy’s undivided attention again. “A war is coming— a great war— and we are going to need to be ready for when that happens. Your teachers tell me that you’re on the verge of reaching the point where they no longer have anything to teach you. They believe you’re ready to leave this place.”

Kai’s eyes widened in shock at the chief’s unexpected words, his mind reeling with disbelief.

Graduating from his training meant leaving behind the only life he had ever known, escaping the confines of this concrete hell and venturing out into the unknown.

He opened his mouth to say something before thinking better of it and closing it again.

“By all means, child.” The Chief said, beckoning Kai to say something. “Speak your mind.”

“They always say I have much to learn.” Kai said, frowning. “They even said it yesterday.”

“Of course they would.” The chief nodded in agreement. “No one is ever done learning, but you are ready to leave this place, I think.”

This only served to deepen Kai’s sense of incredulity. Had he truly impressed his teachers enough to earn this opportunity? Was he truly ready to join the ranks of the tribe’s elite warriors and leave this place?

Uncertainty gnawed at Kai’s insides as he weighed his options. Could he trust this man, a total stranger who seemingly held his fate in his hands? Or was this just another test, another trial designed to lure him into a false sense of security?

But as he looked into the chief’s eyes, Kai saw something there that he hadn’t noticed before. It was a glimmer of genuine pride and belief, a conviction that spoke volumes without words.

Maybe this was the real thing.

With a hesitant nod, Kai took a deep breath and steadied himself. “I… I believe myself to be ready. Chief.”

The chief’s smile was warm and reassuring as he clasped Kai’s shoulder in a gesture of camaraderie.

“Good, good.” He said simply. “Then let us begin your final test.”

The chief’s gaze bore into Kai’s with a scrutiny that made him feel exposed, as if every thought and feeling were laid bare before this man who held his fate in his hands. For a few tense moments, the silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken expectations and possibilities.

Then, with a decisive nod, the chief stood, his expression unreadable as he moved towards the door.

“Come.” He said a second later, his voice a quiet command that brooked no argument.

With a sense of anticipation and trepidation swirling within him, Kai rose to his feet, his resolve steeling as he prepared to follow the chief into the unknown.

As they walked through the familiar corridors, Kai watched the man’s back. If this was a trap, then why would the Chief turn his back so obviously to him?

Kai could simply lunge at him and end him in an instant. He’d been taught the spells of his supposed ancestors, and he’d honed them to an efficient, merciless edge. One strike, and it would all be over for this man.

The chief broke the silence with a question, his voice echoing softly against the cold, sterile surroundings. “Do you know what this place is, Kai?”

Kai stopped in his tracks for a split second before gathering himself and speaking.

“No, Chief.” He admitted quietly. “I’ve heard my trainers refer to it as a bunker, but I never really knew what that meant.”

The chief nodded in understanding, gesturing towards the various faded signs that lined the walls.

“These bunkers, Kai, are shelters.” He began. “They were built by the Muggles many decades ago, in case the world was ending during their own great and bloody wars.”

Kai’s mind whirled. He’d been taught that the Muggles were a weak people, easily subdued, and yet they’d built this place?

The chief continued.

“That’s right, boy; they constructed this place. Sturdy and able to withstand great assaults.” He confirmed. “But, when the world didn’t end, they could no longer afford to maintain them. And so these bunkers were abandoned, left to nature’s slow reclamation. But for us, they have become the perfect locations for our own bases, hidden from prying eyes. This place, like our people, is a relic.”

“A relic.” Kai said, shocked at the man’s words. His instructors would have beaten him if he’d spoken like that. “Our people are—”

“Our people are not as they were, young Kai.” The Chief spoke, stopping. “Oh, do not mistake my words for disrespect. Our people had a rich and ancient culture. Our connection with the spirits and the natural world were second to none. And now, so much of it is lost. So many of our best people—”

He paused for a moment, as if steeling his own resolve. He turned to Kai, his expression grave. “They were taken from us. Defiled. Even in death, they cannot rest, and so we must fight, To bring our home back. That is why we have trained you— to keep you safe from the MACUSA dogs, long enough for you to stand on your own and continue the fight in our name.”

He turned to Kai, his gaze boring into the young boy’s. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Kai nodded, though he didn’t feel too sure on the inside. “Yes, sir. Anything for the tribe.”

He sized him up for a moment before turning. “We’ll see about that.”

As Kai followed the chief into the familiar training arena, a sense of unease settled over him. Was this going to be some kind of test, a trial to gauge his capabilities and readiness to join the tribe’s elite warriors? He couldn’t shake the feeling that something significant was about to happen, something that would change the course of his life forever.

As he stepped into the room, Kai’s eyes scanned the scene before him, taking in the two men who had accompanied the chief here, as well as the instructor standing at the center.

It was the figure in chains, however, that drew Kai’s attention. His head was covered by a burlap sack, and that was it. The man was naked as the day he was born.

Kai’s heart quickened with anticipation as he approached.

“I’ve been apprised of your skills and savagery with magic.” The Chief spoke. “That is not what we are looking for here.”

He nodded mutely, his mind racing with a jumble of conflicting emotions. Fear mingled with excitement, uncertainty battled against determination. He knew that this moment would define him, that he stood on the precipice of a choice that would shape the course of his destiny.

But before Kai could voice his thoughts, the chief continued, his words cutting through the tense silence like a blade.

“True, you have been subjected to harsh training, but there is something you have not seen, as of yet. Death, Kai. You haven’t seen death yet.” He said, his voice carrying a certain solemnity. “But that’s a step you need to take, right here, right now.”

At the mention of death, the man in chains began to whimper, his body trembling with fear. The instructor stepped forward, his voice sharp with authority as he threatened the man to be quiet. With a trembling nod, the man complied, his eyes wide with terror as he was forced to his knees before them.

As Kai stared at the shivering figure before him, a wave of disgust washed over him at the sight of a clear, yellow puddle beneath him. The man had soiled himself in his fear, a pitiful display of weakness that made Kai’s lip curl in disdain. How could someone be so pathetic, so spineless in the face of their own mortality?

As the chief turned to him, a knife glinting in his hand, Kai’s thoughts were abruptly cut short. He recognized the knife immediately as a Vanu blade, a weapon of sacrifice and ceremony among their people— the instructors had beaten it into his head enough times.

In that moment, he knew what was being asked of him, what was expected of him without the need for words.

Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, Kai reached out and accepted the knife from the chief’s outstretched hand. The weight of it felt heavy in his grasp, a tangible reminder of the gravity of the task that lay before him.

“You know what you must do.” Was all the chief said.

With slow, deliberate movements, Kai advanced toward the prisoner, his expression set in a mask of determination. He could feel the eyes of the others upon him, their silent expectations weighing heavily on his shoulders.

But as he stood before the trembling man, Kai felt a surge of conflicting emotions coursing through him. Fear mingled with resolve, doubt battled against certainty. He knew that this was a moment that would define him, that would shape the course of his destiny in ways he couldn’t yet comprehend.

He knew not how to put it into words, but his instincts were screaming at him every which way.

Still, he gathered himself. It had to be done.

With a steady hand and heart, Kai raised the knife, poised to carry out the chief’s command. As he prepared to take that final step into the darkness, he somehow knew that there was no turning back.

Kai raised the knife, poised to deliver the lethal blow that would end the prisoner’s life, but a sudden raised hand from the chief halted him in his tracks. With a sense of foreboding, Kai watched as the men lifted the covering from the prisoner’s face, revealing the raw emotion etched upon his features.

Shock coursed through Kai as he beheld the man’s expression, a mix of fear, desperation, and pleading that cut straight to his core. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as their eyes locked, the silent plea for mercy echoing in the stillness of the room.

“Please.” The man begged, his voice trembling with emotion. “Please, spare me, let me go; I swear I’ll do anything!”

Kai stood frozen in place, the weight of the knife heavy in his hand as he grappled with the sudden enormity of the task before him.

But as he stared into the man’s eyes, Kai felt something stir within him, a flicker of empathy he’d always tried to squash. In that moment, he heard a little voice in his head, a voice that urged him to stop, to reconsider the path he was about to take.

Reality, soon enough, reasserted itself. This man was a dog of the MACUSA, an enemy of their people. Kai’s hesitant expression turned into a harsh glare, baring his teeth at his nemesis.

Before the prisoner could utter another word, Kai carried out his chief’s command, sliding the knife along the man’s throat, opening it wide. He watched as the man crumpled to the floor, convulsing as he choked on his own blood, a pool of red forming and intermingling with the pool of yellow.

Kai stared down at this man before shaking his head. A MACUSA dog, not a man. A pawn of the enemy who would stop at nothing to destroy us.

A moment later, the room filled with cheers, but Kai barely even noticed. He hadn’t even registered the hand of his lead disciplinarian patting him on the shoulder until it got there, but Kai just didn’t care.

“Well done, Kai.” The chief said, and Kai turned to him again. “You are now a Warrior of the Outsiders.”

The euphoria surrounding him felt distant, as if he were observing it from afar. He turned his eyes back down to the still corpse, having a feeling that this wasn’t going to be the only man he killed.