"It is time to get up," the house AI stated calmly.

Jared rolled over, blinking at the bright light leaking around the bedroom curtains. It felt as if he had only just slipped beneath the covers. He sighed, dragging himself upright. Late was not an option.

He sat at the kitchen table, spooning cereal into his mouth. The news feed flickered in front of him, voices droning in the background.  

A major rush-hour derailment has brought chaos to the city’s subway system, shutting down several lines and leaving officials scrambling for answers. Conflicting reports have surfaced about the cause and extent of the incident. Some sources claim two trains collided, with hundreds dead or missing, while transit authorities insist the derailment was minor, triggered by debris or a braking system failure, and that there were no injuries. Officials have urged passengers to contact their families and employers to confirm their safety, though they remain unable to explain the prolonged delays in clearing the tracks. Rumors are also circulating that the Mindwreckers may have been involved, though the organization denies any role. Despite official reassurances, local hospitals report no influx of injured passengers, fueling speculation as witnesses and commuters alike question what really happened and where the missing riders have gone.

His communicator beeped softly, and he reached up to touch the small button just in front of his left ear, picking up the call.

"Good morning," he said, already sure who was calling.

"Have you seen the news this morning?" Kate asked.

He nodded and then answered, "I have it on now."

"Well, that's your assignment," she stated.

He snorted. "What have you got?"

“Based on our team’s findings, the local subway system was, frankly, overdue for a derailment. Given current maintenance standards and budget constraints, these kinds of mechanical failures are less an anomaly and more a matter of time. However, what truly drew our attention wasn’t the derailment itself. It was the pattern surrounding it. Police reports indicate a marked increase in missing-person cases linked to this location and the surrounding blocks. Authorities have been quietly investigating, suspecting either a serial offender or organized criminal activity in the area. But the deeper we looked, the stranger the pattern became. Many of those who vanished fall into two categories: transients and drug users. Some later found beheaded across the city and, more disturbingly, working professionals who inexplicably liquidated their assets, maxed out credit cards, and disappeared completely. Our current hypothesis is that a cult, or some kind of coordinated ideological group, may be responsible for both the disappearances and the derailment itself,” she explained.

"Send me the files and the address," he said, pushing the rest of his breakfast away.

Grabbing his jacket, he headed out the door. The files arrived, and he accessed the address. It was nearby.

The rain poured down, pattering onto the umbrella. He closed his eyes and let the sound soothe him for a moment. Indulging for long wasn't an option. The walk light had turned green, and he crossed the street. Splashing through the puddles, he moved along the sidewalk towards his assignment.

He took the stairs down into the subway, ducking beneath the yellow tape. At the bottom, the scene unfolded. The train lay on its side, front end crumpled against the concrete wall. Twisted metal, shattered glass. Flickering lights.

Jared stared. Emergency services had come and gone, survivors gathered up. But the stories lingered. A creature on the train, some said. A grey man, tentacles writhing from his face. Others whispered of people snatched away before help arrived. Officially, just delirium. But he felt it. A tingling in his bones. Dark had been here.

He stepped into the debris, glass crunching beneath his boots. Blood smeared the floor, marking where people had fought. He climbed onto the train, lowering himself through the gaping door. Inside, darkness pressed in, broken only by the flicker of platform lights.

Looking down the length of the train, he let a tendril of Dark uncoil and waft through the train. As it moved, he picked up snatches of emotion and glimpses of vision. Fear. Screaming. The screeching metal. A pulse of something beneath it. Old. Hungry. Tentacles reaching out of the shadows. A large figure carrying people away.

His fingertips trailed along the roof as he moved. Glass, ground to dust, sparkled underfoot. Blood smeared a torn seat. He ducked beneath a bar, noting oily handprints on the metal. A purse, discarded. A crumpled hat. An umbrella.

"You should mind your business," a deep voice growled at him.

He closed his eyes and severed the line of Dark that was unspooling from him. He turned around to face the speaker. There was no one in the train with him.

"We don't care for the likes of you," the voice grated.

"And what am I?" He asked.

He pulled himself up through a broken window. Ragged glass bit into his palms. Blood ran down his forearms.

"Department Dog," it spat.

Jared could see the speaker now. It was an ogre, standing in the center of the platform, looking up at him.

He watched the ogre as he moved to the edge and dropped down. It towered over him, twice his height. Not unusual. He was only 4'10". But this one loomed, belly button at his eye level. Muscles bunched beneath grey skin. It gripped a metal staff and a shield. If that staff hit him, bones would shatter.

"And what do you have against the Department?" he asked, already aware of a long list of reasons for the Shadow Kind to hate him.

It snarled, swinging the staff as it lunged. Jared dove, sliding through debris, pistols drawn. The staff slammed into empty space, a clang ringing in his ears. He fired, bullets thudding into the ogre's chest. It only grew angrier.

Jared lurched up, running across the platform, leaping debris. Heavy footfalls thundered behind him. He resisted the urge to look. At the edge, he jumped, landing hard, sliding to a stop. He turned, guns raised, and fired twice. Both shots landed.

The ogre roared, teeth bared. Jared, out of reach, took aim. Two more shots. Missed. The staff whipped through the air, slamming into his side. Ribs cracked. He hit the ground, breath gone. He hadn't seen the ogre call on the Dark, but he must have. Scrambling back, he dodged another blow. His hand found the edge of the platform. The staff came again. He let himself fall.

He hit the ground hard, air knocked from his lungs. The ogre laughed above him. Jared didn't wait. He scrambled up, fired twice more. The ogre roared, leaping down. Jared ran, trying to keep distance. But the ogre was there, staff swinging. Another blow. Ribs breaking on the other side. He staggered, but stayed upright.

Jared yelled, pain burning through him. He let it fuel him, opening to the Dark. Two quick steps back, guns holstered. The ogre appeared at his side. This time, he was ready. He spun, slamming his palms into its chest.

"Flame!" He screamed.

The Dark surged out, flooding through his hands. Fire blossomed, swallowing the ogre. Heat washed over him. The abyss opened in his mind, music whispering, calling him into the place of all creation. He stared into it, knowing it would devour him, crush everything he was. Still, he yearned to step forward. To let go.

He cried out, eyes squeezed shut, as if that could block the visions. He called the Dark back, fighting to stem the torrent. Pulling himself from the edge, holding on for another day. He sat, staring at the charred corpse.

Jared dug the nanobot injector from his pack. Flipped off the cover. Pressed it to his thigh. A sharp stab, then warmth spreading through his blood.