The faint murmur of voices sounded through the trees, becoming louder as Adrian hiked down the forest path. His heart sank as he saw people milling about through the leaves; as he'd headed for the meeting site, Adrian had harbored a wild hope that he'd gotten the meeting spot or date wrong, or that he'd imagined the whole encounter, and he'd arrive at an empty clearing and not have to join a murderous cult.

But here he was, and here was everybody else. People crazy enough, vengeful enough, to join a shady cult at odds with the law. Adrian's pace slowed as the thought occurred to him. Everyone was dangerous. The initiates. The cultists. He was doomed for sure.

Gritting his teeth, Adrian reminded himself that he'd promised to do this, and forced himself to keep walking. He struggled not to slip as he descended the muddy hill, reluctantly releasing his death grip on his umbrella to hold out a hand in case he fell.

He reached the bottom of the hill and lingered at the edge of the crowd. Nobody seemed to notice his presence. There was about forty people in the clearing, and three or four people overlooked the crowd, perched on large rocks resting on the hillside. Adrian's stomach lurched as he recognized their black and silver uniforms--the uniforms of the people who had attacked him, Brook, and Delta. I'm definitely in the right place.

He'd arrived ten minutes early, and they waited for another twenty, during which about twelve more people showed up. One of the administrators let out a call, at which the crowd fell silent and the other cultists descended from their posts to stand in front of the crowd.

"Thank you for coming today," announced the lead administrator. "We will be conducting a short test to make sure you all are suitable to join our cause. No worries--you will not be tested on your aptitude or strength, as we believe everyone who is willing to join our cause can contribute in some way, regardless of ability. Rather, you will be tested on your loyalty and truthfulness. We don't want any traitors in our midst, after all."

Adrian swallowed nervously.

"Everyone who passes this test shall be taken to the regional base, where an initiation speech will be delivered. If, at that point, you decide our organization isn't for you, you are still allowed to leave, as long as you promise not to leak any information. Anyone who remains after that point will be officially inducted into the organization. Of course, we hope you all make it to that point." The administrator smiled, the grin of a predator.

"Now, for testing." The administrator scanned over the crowd, counting under her breath. "If you'd get into...five lines, all about equal in length. We'll test you one-by-one. The head of each line will be one of our officers."

The crowd obligingly sorted into lines, ushered and guided by the cultists. One cultist stood at the head of each line, and the remaining cultists and the administrator watched on, hands resting on the weapons fixed at their hip.

Adrian found himself in the middle of the fifth line, watching as each person was led a few feet away to be tested. With their backs facing him, he couldn't see what transpired, only heightening the tension. For a while, the testing proceeded smoothly, each tested person sent to the other end of the clearing to wait for everyone to finish.

Then an angry shout echoed across the clearing, and Adrian turned to see a cultist grabbing the wrist of the person he was testing. The person was shouting, and he vainly attempted to escape the cultist's grasp.

"What gives?! Let me go!"

The cultist, unfazed by the man's cries, glanced at the administrator. "We've got a liar."

The administrator was similarly nonchalant. She gestured at the forest. "Oh well. Knock him out and take him away."

The cultist reached to his belt, but the man reacted faster.

"You aren't doing anything to me!" he shouted, yanking his wrist from the cultist's group. He took off running, heading straight to the forest. A few of the cultists took off after him, but the unconcerned administrator stayed put, instead reaching into her pocket.

She pulled out a small, spherical object and clutched it in her hand, closing her eyes in concentration. The man, racing up the hill, slowed, swayed, then collapsed into the mud. The cultists pursuing him kneeled by the man, looking up to the administrator for orders.

"Take him to the ridge. He won't wake up until we're long gone."

The cultists nodded and lifted up the man, disappearing into the gloomy forest.

For a moment, a brief, nervous silence fell over the clearing.

"Well? Get back to it!" snapped the administrator.

Everyone flinched nervously, and the testing gradually resumed. The cultists fell into a rhythm once again, and they made steady process through the lines. By the time it was Adrian's turn, his heart was in his throat and he could barely hear the murmur of the crowd over the pounding in his ears.

The cultist in charge of his line sent the person he was testing to join the growing crowd lingering at the other end of the clearing, then gestured to Adrian to come over. Adrian took a deep breath and walked to the cultist.

"Okay," said the cultist flatly, clearly disinterested after testing so many initiates. "Take this." He dropped a small, clear crystal in Adrian's palm. "I'm gonna ask you a few questions."

Adrian flinched as heat seared through his palm. He stared at the crystal in shock, but it remained unremarkable, dull and cloudy, no signs of the immense heat it was radiating.

The cultist frowned, irritated. "Something wrong?"

"Wh-what does this do?"

The cultist rolled his eyes. "Just answer the questions, okay?"

"But--"

"This is part of the test. Shut up."

Adrian nodded reluctantly, struggling to not let his pain show. Another burning started at his side, at the pockets were the enchanted beads were. Are the beads and the crystal reacting? The crystal must be enchanted, then, but for what? He remembered the other cultist calmly telling the administrator, "We've got a liar." So is it some sort of lie detector?

"Do you truly wish to join our organization?" asked the cultist.

"Y-yes." The beads and the crystal burned fiercely.

"Do you promise to dedicate yourself wholly to our cause?"
"Yes."

"Do you have any intentions to harm the organization?"

"No."

"Are you affiliated with any other organizations that might intend to harm us?"

"No." The crystal's burning reached a new high, so hot Adrian thought it might burn through his palm. Was this part of the test? He struggled to keep an even expression, something that usually natural when he wasn't being interrogated.

"Do you intend to leak any information without permission?"
"No."

"If, for some reason, you leave the organization, do you promise to never leak any information under any circumstance?"

"Yes."

The cultist nodded. "Okay. Good job. You passed. Go stand with the others." He jerked his thumb toward the growing crowd at the edge of the clearing. He reached out and grabbed the crystal from his palm. Even though it had still been burning Adrian's skin, the cultist seemed unaffected by the heat.

"So...what does that do?"

The cultist scowled. "Get moving."

Adrian, not willing to risk his luck, nodded and joined the crowd at the edge of the clearing. Though the rain had subsided to a light mist, he still clung to his umbrella, earning him a few odd looks from the others.

It didn't take long for the cultists to get through the rest of the lines. There was only one more incident; though he couldn't hear what was said, Adrian could see the crystal light up in the palm of an initiate as he spoke. This one went out peacefully, sighing in resignation as the administrator took out her magical orb and knocked him out.

Once everyone had been tested, the administrator loomed over the crowd, perched on a rock, scrutinizing the initiates that had made it through testing.

"Not the most impressive lot," she mumbled, "but, who knows? Maybe some of you will have some power." A bit louder, she announced, "Congratulations on passing. Follow us." She set off at a brisk pace, the other cultists falling back to form a loose ring around the crowd of initiates.

Even though it was midday, the forest was dark, the sky stuffed full of dark, heavy clouds. Shadows lurked under every leaf, gently swaying as a brisk breeze swept through the forest. Every inch of foliage was sodden with heavy raindrops, weighing them down; they seemed to loom over the group, wooden fingers stretching out to brush their skin with an icy touch.. The tunnel felt as if it grew smaller and smaller as they went along, constricting the group and trapping them as the faint light at the end was snuffed out.

Adrian tightened his grip on his umbrella.

They walked and walked and walked, some of the group members lagging behind as they struggled to keep up to the brisk pace. The cultists didn't seem to care, only widening the circle so nobody fell behind them.

Eventually they fell on a beaten footpath--or least, that what it would've been, but the rain had turned it into a long channel of mud. The cultists marched down it, unfazed, appearing unconcerned as the initiates struggled to keep up, sloshing through the mud.

After what seemed to be an eternity, they finally emerged into a wide clearing. A grand mansion stood in the middle, surrounded by a tall wooden fence that hid the grounds around the mansion. Almost all the windows were blocked by curtains on the inside, but a warm light shone out through the gaps.

It was a lonely building, dark and quiet against the shadowy forest, looming over the lands below it. A heavy silence stifled the clearing as the group approached a gate in the fence. Adrian, near the back, peered over the heads of the group to see the administrator rap on the door and say, "It's Madira, here with the new group of initiates."

A slot on the gate opened, then shut. The gates swung open to reveal the grounds surrounding the mansion--they were plain and unassuming. A handful of cultists lingered around--guarding the gate, the doors to the mansion, and patrolling the yard. All of them wore the same black and gray uniform, lined with silver thread, and they all looked thoroughly unhappy to be outside in such dreary weather.

They nodded in acknowledgement to the administrator as the group walked by, critical gaze sweeping over the initiates. Two guards hurried to pull open heavy, double wooden doors as the group climbed onto the porch. Slowly, they filed through the entrance. Adrian's heart skipped a beat as he stepped through the threshold.

I'm here. This is it.

The inside was warm and dry; Adrian reluctantly closed his umbrella. Warm, yellow-orange light shone on a dark red carpet and paneled wooden walls. They were in some sort of entrance hall, almost entirely undecorated, the wall broken only by doors.

The administrator took a harsh right into another hallway, her brisk pace not faltering. The group left muddy footprints of the carpet as they were lead through the halls until they reached a set of double doors. Beyond them was an enormous room, the ceiling two floors above them. Three enormous windows stretching up to the ceiling interrupted the right wall; red curtains were drawn across each of them. The wonderfully polished wooden floor was immediately ruined as dozens of muddy feet trampled all over it.

A stage took up the far end of the room; two people stood on it, chatting with each other. As the group entered, the people turned to watch them--the man had eager eyes, but the woman gazed at them more critically.

A few cultists were already lingering in the room, drifting to the edges to make room as the initiates poured into the room. Adrian lingered at the back of the room, putting some distance between himself between him and the other initiates. A curious chatter rose up as they waited; most eyes fell upon the man and woman up on stage.

The administrator shoved her way to the front of the crowd, climbing onto the stage and saying something to the people up there. The man nodded, and he gestured at the crowd. The woman and the administrator took a few steps back, positioning themselves of either side of the man.

The man strode to the front of the stage and straightened his posture, gazing at the crowd until they noticed and fell silent. His hair was light brown and ruffled, almost falling into his bright blue eyes. A wide smile split his face--for some reason, it seemed familiar.

Adrian frown and stared harder--and it hit him. For a moment, he was back in the streets, struggling to make it home as a storm raged around him. The ghost of thunder rumbled in his ears, and he shivered as the memory of bone-deep cold crept through him. It was the man he'd met on the street, the man who had asked him if he'd seen any couples. Assumably, the same man who'd asked Delta the same thing.

A chill shot down Adrian's spine as he realized how close he'd been to danger.

Even though the weather had been so awful, the circumstances so suspicious, the man hadn't been menacing. His face was the friendliest Adrian had ever seen, and he'd been so polite, even if the entire encounter was eerie. But yet, his seemingly innocent question had been him searching for the location of his next victim.

Wearing a warm, genuine smile, the man began to speak. "Hello. I'd like to thank you all for coming here today. We're always glad to have new initiates willing to join our cause. My name is Jax Mocroft, and I'm in charge of this branch of the organization. Unfortunately, our leader, Master Dark, is unable to be here today, but he will be visiting in a few weeks to welcome you all.

"I assume you're all here because you have been wronged in some way. Not by a specific person, but by something far more vast--destiny, fate, chance. Just because you drew the short stick, you have to suffer, and forever carry bitterness and resentment because you cannot release your burden. Fate, after all, is something intangible and distant, a mere concept, not anything you can get revenge on. So you must swallow that resentment, unfulfilled, and move on with your life.

"However, sometimes, it is impossible to let go and move on. Perhaps this is your case?" He gazed at the crowd expectantly, smiling slightly as many nodded. "You may have already heard the truth. The fact that you don't have to live with your resentment any longer. The fact that the cause of your suffering is not an unlucky twist of fate, but rather the purposeful actions of a physical being. All human suffering is caused by the sinister plotting of a cruel people--angels."

He let the last word, spoken calmly and evenly, hang in the air for a few moments. More than a few initiates wore expressions of intense doubt, but a surprising amount had latched onto Jax's words, leaning forward, eyes glittering with excitement to hear what he said next. Adrian recalled the dismal state of the area he'd found the cultist preaching in. Perhaps many of the people here are already desperate.

Jax smiled slightly, then continued. "I understand, to many of you, that seems ridiculous. Angels, something we've been taught from birth as being impossibly distant and untouchable. But they are real, imperfect and flawed, just like you and me." He turned to the woman at his right. "If you would."

She nodded and drifted backstage, then reappeared with something clutched in her hand: an enormous, white, feathered wing. Brown blood stains speckled the edge where it would have been attached to a body.

Adrian's stomach turned as he stared at it. He'd only ever seen Astin's black wings up close, but he'd glimpsed the citizens of the city from the palace windows, watched them fly over the city on wings just like the one the woman held. The wing, once attached to a living, breathing angel, now clenched in someone's hand.

The crowd murmured as they examined the wing, some staring in excitement and others in skepticism. A handful made their way to the door, closely followed by cultists looking to lead them out. Jax watched them go, seeing unconcerned. He nodded to the woman, and she disappeared backstage again, then came out empty-handed.

"That is all we have at the moment for proof," he said, "but hopefully it is enough to convince you of their mortality. As you can see, they can be harmed, they can be hurt, and they can die. You can finally utilize your resentment--to help us fight against the angels' blind cruelty. They want nothing more than for humans to suffer, and revel in watching our pain.

"Unfortunately, the path is not a pretty one, littered with strife and bloodshed." Jax's calm tone finally began to break as he picked up in intensity, eyes shining with passion. "But we strive for so much more than simple revenge. If we can end the angels' tyranny, we can put a stop to all human suffering. We strive for a world where nobody has to be wronged because of circumstances outside their control, a world where everybody can be happy, a world where nobody has to live in fear of the angels."

Jax spoke more and more fervently, leaning forward, his face lighting up with genuine excitement. "A future without angels is a future without misery, without pain, without suffering. If we can stop their mindless cruelty, we can save the lives of countless humans, prevent thousands of tragedies from ever happening, create a world where everyone is happy. It's a future that most can only dream about, but if you step up and join us, we can make it happen!"

He finished his speech, staring over the crowd, breathless, a wide, hopeful smile still of his face. A soft clap sounded from the crowd, and it spread like wildfire; soon every person in the room was applauding. Adrian joined to blend in, clapping even as his mind raced to process Jax's speech.

Those words certainly didn't seem to be the words that would come out of the mouth of a member of a crazy, murderous cult. It was almost sickeningly idealistic, yet appealing all the same, to a image a future Jax had painted. Adrian could see how the initiates would be taken in, though--if one truly pictured the angels as the cruel, pain-loving villains Jax painted them as, perhaps it was, in a twisted way, possible to think that eliminating them would end suffering.

It was bizarre--terrifying, even--to hear indiscriminate murder justified in such a noble way. Once again, unease and uncertainty seized Adrian, their grip tight and unyielding. He was actually getting involved with the crazy people. I'm doomed. I'm doomed for sure.

Jax smiled as the crowd's applause died down, and nodded slightly. "Thank you. I'd like to ask anyone who feels they cannot handle joining our cause to leave now. There is no cost; we simply ask you to not reveal any information. It is fine if you wish to leave--we will strive to protect your happiness all the same."

Nobody stirred; anybody not wanting to join had left long ago. Adrian was tempted to march out there and then, but he cursed his promise and stayed put.

"Then are you all committed to our cause? I warn you, leaving the organization after you've joined is much more difficult." The menacing words, delivered in such a calm, unthreatening voice, were almost entirely overlooked by the crowd. "Then, I thank you all for joining. We appreciate any and all help in our quest for happiness."

He took a step back, gesturing to the two women on either side of him. "Before we conclude this meeting, I'd like to introduce my sub-elites you all. They are my second-in-command, and you should treat them with as much respect as you do to me." He glanced at them expectantly.

The unfamiliar woman stepped forward, her smile somewhat smug. She was tall, with short black hair and gray eyes that scanned the crowd. "I'm Gale Soysa, sub-elite of this base. It's a delight to have you all join us."

She stepped back, and the administrator stepped forward, glaring down at the crowd with dark eyes. "Madira Shrier."

With that, she stepped back and glanced at Jax.

Jax smoothly picked up again. "That concludes our meeting. If you'd follow our officials, we'll get you all initiated into our organization."

Adrian followed the crowd out, hardly daring to breathe. Step one was done. He'd successfully infiltrated the organization.