Page 55 of A Soul’s Awakening

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Not surprisingly, I got little sleep. The concrete closet was cold and damp, the air heavy and stagnant. Without windows, the only light came from a single bulb that buzzed incessantly, slicing through the silence. The cot was thin and uneven, the pillow flatter than a pancake, and the threadbare blanket barely covered half of me.

On top of that, I couldn’t stop thinking about what Mandy had said. Every villain had their origin story, every so-called monster a reason to become what they were. And, while I didn’t agree with the Syndicate’s methods, the more I thought about it, the more I realized why they had such an interest in me. How many people had I helped who were misunderstood, pushed, or broken by circumstances beyond their control? The people here may not have been evil, they were desperate to be accepted and live normal lives without ridicule. Could I blame them for believing they were doing the right thing?

I shook the thought away. I always tried to see the best in people, but I couldn’t let sympathy cloud my judgment. This was the organization that had burned down Mr. Carson’s pizza joint just to make a point. They’d kidnapped my best friend to use as leverage against me. They’d tortured Alex and Jordan under the guise of “studying” their magic. And while I knew they wanted to study my magic, too, I knew it wasn’t to save the world. Their intentions might have sounded noble, but their actions were anything but.

Mandy had taken my dirty clothes last night, leaving me with what looked like someone’s workout clothes to sleep in. She had stopped by earlier this morning to drop off a bowl of goopy oatmeal and my freshly laundered jeans and t-shirt.

I was getting changed when a resounding knock on the metal door startled me. This visitor certainly wasn’t her. It was too heavy, too urgent.

“I’m coming in.” The male voice wasn’t angry, but it carried an edge of urgency that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

I groaned, pushing myself off the lumpy cot. “Give me a minute.”

Ignoring my response, the lock clicked and the door swung open. I had just buttoned my jeans when the fairy’s gaze slid over me like a scanner, weighing my reactions, my posture, my magic.

“Alistair,” I said with little enthusiasm. “I should have guessed you’d show up eventually.”

The last time I had seen the fairy was when he ripped Lukas away from me. A crushing pain clenched my heart when I thought about it.

Alistair was as calm now as he was back then. Every detail of his appearance spoke of careful precision. The professional look belied the quiet strength in his frame and the authority in his measured movements.

“Come. We have work to do.”

I barely had my second shoe on before Alistair dragged me out of the closet and into the hallway. Silver chains shimmered faintly around my wrists like handcuffs, binding them to the front of my body, but the weight of the chains felt like concrete blocks holding me down. They subdued my magic, but I could still feel it lingering just beneath the surface.

“Precaution,” Alistair said smoothly, adjusting the cuff of his slate-blue dress shirt. His dark slacks were pressed, shoes polished like he was heading to a gala instead of hauling me to my funeral. “Your magic … I don’t trust it. We can’t risk a disturbance.”

“Disturbance,” I muttered. “Is that what we’re calling me now?”

He didn’t answer.

The facility felt different in daylight. The concrete floors held a deep chill, like they’d never fully thawed. The air carried a sharp bite of salt and metal, even this far inside. Pipes lined the ceiling overhead, thick and industrial, some wrapped in insulation, others exposed and sweating condensation.

Alistair, sensing my curiosity, began explaining. “We’re off the coast of Boston. This is an old decommissioned maritime research facility. Long ago, they used to conduct pressure studies here.”

Did that mean Alistair was planning to press my magic to the limit, to see how much it could withstand before I exploded?

The corridor ended at a massive steel door. It was rounded, reinforced, and riveted, like the hatch of a submersible. Alistair knocked once. “We’re coming in.”

The locks disengaged with a heavy groan. The door swung open to reveal a cavernous chamber that swallowed sound.

“This is … a pressure chamber?” I asked, taking in the enormous space.

Alistair guided me inside. “Originally used for submersible testing. Hulls, materials, instruments. Extreme depths. It’s a closed system. Perfect for experimenting with magic.”

The chamber looked more like the inside of a submarine than a laboratory. Cold air rolled in like a wave, carrying the metallic tang of salt and lingering presence of magic. The rubber soles of my sneakers squeaked against the polished concrete that stretched farther than I could see, supported by steel beams and cross braces that arched high overhead. Catwalks and hoists, once used to lift submersibles, hung frozen above, their chains dripping warm mist that hissed violently as it met the cold, subzero-simulated floor, making the hangar feel almost alive.

But at the center of it all … my breath caught.

A phantom knelt inside a metallic silver array, chains of light lancing sparks across its flickering form. He wavered between translucent and semi-solid flesh, jaw clenched, teeth gritted, no energy left to even scream. His khakis were torn, his shirt saturated in sweat and dirt. Every pulse of energy made his form shimmer violently, as though the magic itself were testing the limits of his existence. His hollow eyes absorbed the overhead lights, and even through the flicker I could see the strain in his posture … the tremor of shoulders, the subtle quiver of hands against the unyielding restraints.

“Lukas!” My instincts had me lunging forward, screaming at me to help this tortured phantom. “What the fuck are you doing to him?”

But my own chains bit into my wrists and elbows, limiting every movement. I could barely reach, barely move. The array beneath the phantom pulsed with a cruel rhythm that made my chest tighten.

“Unless you want to turn into a charred, juicy slab of meat, I suggest you back away. You can’t do anything to help him right now. Just watch and learn.” Mandy sat a few meters away, nodding to the floor where black shadows stretched unnaturally from the phantom’s body. They coalesced into jagged constructs that lashed at the edges of the array, but they didn’t escape.