Alistair and Nightshade come into the industrial warehouse of the Blockhouse, they are clutching glasses of exquisite brandy. They appear to have been talking something deep as I say hi.

Nightshade steps forward, a coil of heavy, black chains held loosely in her hand. There's a new light in her eyes – not just judgment, but the hungry curiosity of a new student eager to apply a lesson. Alistair watches from a safe distance, his expression unreadable. This is no longer his test; it's Nightshade's practical exam.

​"Alistair thought it might be worth watching magic in action." she says, her voice a low purr as she begins to bind me. "I believe in pressure. The kind that leaves no room for thought. The kind that makes systems irrelevant."

​Her movements are brutally efficient. She is not just chaining me; she's weaving a web of restraint designed to create maximum physical stress. The chains are cold, but I can feel a faint, chaotic energy humming within them, a wild, unpredictable magic that feels like static against my skin. It's her power, raw and untamed, infused into the metal.

​She secures me to the bottom plate of a monstrous machine. The Crusher. It's a brutalist nightmare of hydraulics and reinforced steel—two thick, massive plates set in a greasy industrial frame. It is a machine with only one, simple purpose.

​Nightshade finishes her work and steps back to stand beside Alistair. She gives the machine a proprietary pat. "There are no locks to pick, Hanavari," she says, a triumphant smirk on her face. "No motors to short-circuit. Just pure, irresistible force. A lesson from Chaos."

​With a deep, groaning shudder, the top plate begins its slow, inexorable descent.

Nightshade is owned by @Nightshade-QOV