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It was a great Monday, a wonderful Monday in fact. The sun was sort of shining through the general haze of fog on the island, there was no sign of any rampaging fog phoenixes or dragons destroying homes, and noone was suffering.









Correction: noone was suffering yet.

Having been discharged from the infirmary not too long ago, Jake was still tired and exhausted, not to mention confused as hell at the dream he had during his self-induced coma. What did it even mean?

He didn't have time to ponder it further as he felt his phone vibrate, and pulled it out to see... a text from Caelius. Oh s**t, did he do something-

His eyes froze on the word "promotion", and he took a moment to scan over the entire text.
... Senior hunter assessment? So, there were going to be others present? Not that it really mattered, but...

Promotion, huh? Time on the island seemed to pass by so fast, and he barely remembered filing a request for promotion. It was probably when he had to drop off a s**t ton of mission reports from having neglected them, but... even now, his memory was foggy.

Whatever, no use dwelling on it now. He already screwed up once in front of the death lead, and he wasn't planning on doing it again.
At least... not if he could help it.

Putting on his hunter coat, he stepped out of his room, locking it.
He winced slightly, a hand placed on his chest.
Damn, that wound from Ofelia still hurt like hell. Hopefully after this, he'd be able to fight her on somewhat more level ground. But first...

----------------------

Arriving at Caelius' door 5 minutes before 11, he looked over his equipment. The hand torch was fit snug into his belt, along with a roll of runic bandages, something he would have never touched, but after his last incident, Chester had been more than adamant about it being a permanent item in his arsenal.

He checked to make sure he had a pendant on him, and... he supposed bringing the runic dagger was kind of useless, but, well, he was kinda attached to it, and didn't feel like leaving it behind.

Satisfied, he pushed the door open, only to see that someone else had arrived, someone he never saw before. One of the senior hunters, he supposed? Though... the kid barely looked any older than him. It was almost like seeing another Gale... in a way. Same height too.

Turning his attention towards Caelius, he dipped his head slightly.
"...Sir."

Wilson had still been sleeping when he received the text. Bleary eyes skimmed through the text, but it was simple and brief enough. He vaguely wondered if anyone else was going to be there. The thought distracted him to the point that he fell off his bed. Groaning, Wilson picked himself up and pocketed his phone before getting readying.

He fought a yawn when he arrived to Caelius’ office, already occupied by a few familiar faces. A friendly nod to all three of them while he blinked the sleep out of his eyes, his weapon jabbering as usual in the back of his mind.

Wow. There were a lot more higher ups than Otto anticipated. Two more, in fact. One of which he rather despised thanks to his last run in with her. He gritted his teeth and held his tongue.

Surprisingly, despite being his bitter and threatening self, Otto felt this might have been on of Caelius's nicer speeches. Even so, there was an enormous amount of pressure to prove himself, to go above an beyond. And he had no idea how to go about it. He did work better solo, so the fact it would be more of an individual level assignment suited him well.

As usual, Otto had no questions. He was never the inquisitive type, hated to pry and had no interest in anything that wasn't simply right in front of him to assess. Caelius had told them all he felt they needed to know, and for now it would do. Hopefully, his recently just healed ankle wouldn't give him any problems on this endeavor. He'd hate to end up in a cast again, after all. Or demoted. Ugh...

His gaze flicked to the only female again. Who the Hell was she texting? And why did she seem so smug abou---

.....that b***h.

Hearing footsteps behind him, Jake turned and- oh. Speak of the devil.
Gale's smirk was greeted with a frown as the death hunter walked in, and then when Wilson arrived, Jake just glared, giving the older hunter a look that seemed to say What-the-hell-happened-to-you and We-need-to-have-a-nice-long-"chat"-after-the-hell-you-put-me-through. At most, it'd just look like Jake was glaring at him... as he did with the other hunters... as usual.

Hearing someone clear their throat, Jake turned around to see that, well, they weren't exactly alone. At least, besides the death lead and the "senior" hunters. Having never met Mark (formally), the death assistant was also given a frown, and the short female hunter another glare. This room was beginning to feel quite cramped.

When Caelius spoke though, Jake turned, full attention on the death lead.
An eyebrow quirked up as he pulled a file with a lot of red scribbles, and Jake squinted at the words.
... Probation? Secondary Probation?
... Testing probation?
Surely... this wasn't his file... right? He screwed up, but not THAT badly...
Not to mention it wasn't even a mission.

At the mention of non-trainee hunters, Jake cringed slightly.
Damn. So he really was the lowest-ranking hunter out of everyone here. Well, that was swell.
... Oh hell, MORE MISSION REPORTS. Joy.
Well, at least the one good news was that if he screwed up, it wasn't possible for him to get demoted... unless that meant being stuck back in the pods. Not really reassuring.

Jake only watched quietly as yellow slips were pulled out, and seeing an extra green one pulled out from his own file, Jake couldn't help but eye it with morbid curiosity. The suspense was killing him.

At the mention of individual assessments, Jake relaxed slightly. He had always preferred to work solo. At least, this way, he only had himself to blame if he screwed up, and didn't need to glare daggers at someone else for messing things up for him.

When Wilson spoke up, Jake turned to look at him, blatantly ignoring the woman's phone. Maybe he chose to ignore it, or maybe he didn't notice.
Who knew. Maybe he really was just that oblivious.

"Your ******** assessment is based on your goddamned observation skills, if you cannot comprehend what that evens means, then consider yourself permanently invalid during this test." With such a stellar, encouraging attitude like Caelius's, it was a wonder why people did not ask more questions. Truly.

After those inspirational words, the Death lead, without saying even the simplest courtesy like "Follow me", or maybe even "If it isn't too much trouble, please come this way", or maybe even "Come at your convenience; if inconvenient, come all the same" or something at least simply headed towards the Lighthouse portal as if he was the only one headed somewhere partially important. Having a little more experience in the ways of the impatient and volatile, Mark quickly picked up pace, grabbing as much equipment as he was allotted in those few precious seconds before running out as well, followed by Sam, still deftly texting away.

They arrived at a fairly neutral place on the other side, neutral as in nothing was on fire or exploding and there weren't any zombies threatening to rise from their graves or man-eating plants as reminiscent of the first few missions with His Truly (or even training ones, which were technically just missions, for the zombies and man-eating plants).

In fact, the cavern was literally just the expedition of them, and a conveniently placed table that seemed to have been set up exactly for the mission, containing the usual provisions, which Mark immediately ran over to assist with. Everyone was handed a headset, an emergency flare, for rescue situations ("It doesn't hurt to have it", Mark insisted), rope, because clearly, this was an Indiana Jones pursuit, a Fear scanner, and their choice of available Runic Weapons. After everyone was 'suited up', they might have had time to take a look at said room. It was just one room, small and nondescript, extremely dark and narrow, damp almost and two both sides, open caverns, one on the left, one on the right.

The Death lead went ahead and set up the timer on the table, pulling out from god knows what sort of pocket dimensional space more mission reports to look at, analyze, and possibly sleep with during those cold long evenings alone, considering how often he was seen with them. "You have exactly one hour to return here with a complete, detailed mission report. I will also expect a complete detailed map of the vicinity with Fear and Insanity markers as appropriate."

And that was that.

[Going Left]

Well there went Caelius. And Mark. And Mega b***h. Otto followed, only because it seemed like he needed to be at the portals, anyway. Lo and behold, there was the portal to the place they needed to be. He stocked up on standard gear, and his runic hand torch. You know… just in case. Most missions ended with a mass rumble and tumble. The rope was taken too.

While there was no immediate threat, one thing about the place they would take their test alarmed him; it was extremely dark. If there was one thing that crippled Otto more than anything, it was the dark. It was the best and worst test to give him. If he could over power his intense fear of dark places, he would not only prove to higher ups what he was capable of, but to himself. This fear was something he was never able to get over. He wasn't sure if today would be any different. But if he couldn't pull off is duties here, despite the dark, he'd look a fool in front of his peers and superiors. Three of his superiors. Plus Gale.

s**t.

He fought as hard as he could to hide how much his body tried to hyperventilate, his mouth pressed into a tight, thin line. He fought to keep his breathing low and unheard, as shaky as it was. He felt himself start to sweat, his heart rate quicken, feeling as f any moment he'd black out from the intense amount of panic welling deep in his psyche.

He concentrated on Caelius's words, each syllable ringing in his burning ears like sharply ringing bells. He managed to log the basics. Detailed Report. Make a map. He could use his scanner, maybe. He wasn't sure how. Not knowing exactly what to do made the panic worse, a static noise buzzing in his brain.

But he had to press forward. Standing here would show how useless he was, how much of a waste of space he might just be.

So he veered left, not wanting to be near anyone if he did have a full on panic attack. Each step felt like he was that much further away from the point of no return. His clammy had gripped the wall as he made each step, his eyes focused on the scanner. Just the scanner. If he let himself acknowledge the darkness, he'd never take one more step. Each dark chamber gave his visions of clawed hands reaching for him, threatening to drag him to Hell. The same terrible nightmares he'd had since childhood. It was why he could never let his ankles hang over the edge of the bed.

After what felt like forever, the scanner had no readings at all. Had he chosen the wrong path? But as he took another step, his hand grazed something odd. There was a faint glowing, enough that he could see something used to be engraved there. It was too decayed to identify, but it was noted in his cell phone's log. He kept going, slower as he happened upon some non functioning runes. Now this was interesting. There was still no Fear indicated on the scanner. But this seemed like it used to be used, might have been important. It too was noted of.

The cavern, from what little he could see or touch, was falling apart slowly. He really hoped nothing would trigger it to fall any time soon. He did not want to die here. But as he turned, he lifted his eyes from his scanner and cell, the faint movement of a shadow catching his eye.

He nearly had a heart attack right there. His throat felt like it swelled up and stopped his breathing, his ears rang. Was he truly not alone here? Maybe it was one of the others. Maybe it wasn't…

He held back the urge to curl into a ball, and pray this was just a nightmare.

He hated the dark.

He was terrified of what he didn't know. What he couldn't see or understand or control. Scared something could grab him in the pitch darkness.

He fell to his knees as a wave of nausea hit him. He clamped a hand over his mouth, trying not to gag from the sheer amount of panic and stress distressing his body and mind. The ground felt moist, littered with scattered rocks and stones, some squishy as if leafy, or mouldy. He could faintly hear running water. Perhaps that was his next destination in this tour from his nightmares.

Looking up as he stayed down to gather his wits, he noted the stalagmites, the shadowy blackness in between that also spooked him to his core. His fear scanner showed nothing though. Not a thing. This.. this was all in his head. He had nothing to fear but his own, twisted imagination.

Shakily, he got to his feet again. His hand braced the wall as he regained his strength. A faint breeze he could feel. Likely the same direction as where the water was? Otto decided to follow the etchings, holding his hand along them as he continued to walk.

[ Going left ]


Not for the first time since entering the Death Division did Gale wonder why he was here in the first place, and why he was still putting up with Sir PMS's A Lot.

<< Why do I feel like this is going to end badly? >>

Because it's probably going to end badly.

His division-oriented mind was already storing away the necessary information. They were going into what looked to be straight blackness, and they were making a map. And they had no flashlights.

Gale resisted the urge to turn right back around and leave, but since that was not an option whatsoever, he merely gripped the barrier dagger a bit tighter in his hand before slipping it into his belt and moving forward.

The dark was extremely unpleasant. In fact, it was suffocating, a thick blackness that coiled around them like a snake. It pressed down on him like a physical weight, and Gale pressed his lips together in an effort to continue forward the way he was supposed to.

It's just another mission.

The lack of a flashlight made everything that much worse. Gale took several minute steps forward, hedging slowly towards the tunnel on the left. He would have grabbed onto the wall, but since his left hand was still having irritating spasms and was all but useless, and his right hand held the FEAR scanner, he would have to settle for merely keeping as close to the wall as possible to stay on track. Going down the middle was not exactly the best option.

It took some time - and a lot of encouragement from Jinhai - before he saw a dim light ahead. Gale squinted through the dark, trying to distinguish what exactly it was, stepping into a room that looked as though it had fallen apart at the seams. There was something glowing on the wall - a rune, perhaps? - with several more -

- his foot hit a rock, and he stumbled, staggering forward a few steps unintentionally. Swearing softly, Gale righted himself and frowned down at the scanner and the little number 1 the metre was currently pointing to.

<< What a charming place this is. >>

If by 'charming' you mean 'freaky.'

He felt a light breeze against his face. Tilting his head a little, Gale moved closer to the wall and the runes, trying to discern which direction the wind was coming from.