My First Pet Is a Nightmare God

Chapter 8: The First Bond

The small outer dorm room felt even smaller once the door clicked shut behind me. I stood in the center of the space for a long moment, the faint hum of the academy’s distant activity filtering through the thin walls like background static. My body still thrummed with the aftershocks of last night’s transformation every breath, every subtle shift of muscle carrying a new, electric awareness. The shadows in the corners of the room seemed to lean toward me, responsive in a way they had never been before.

I sat on the edge of the narrow bed and closed my eyes, reaching inward with a tentative mental probe. The presence of Nyxar responded immediately, wrapping around my thoughts like cool, possessive silk.

“You called?” His voice carried a note of dark amusement, as though he had been waiting for this exact moment.

I kept my own tone even. “You spoke of a bond. Show me how it works. Not in fragments. Fully.”

A low chuckle vibrated through my mind, rich with centuries of arrogance and hunger. “Bold. Most vessels beg or bargain at this stage. You simply demand. Very well, contractor. The first bond is already forming, but it requires your conscious acceptance. Open yourself. Let me in completely. Feel what I offer.”

I hesitated for only a heartbeat. Then I relaxed the mental barriers I had unconsciously raised and allowed the darkness to flow deeper.

Power surged through me in a controlled wave  not the violent torrent of the hatching, but something more deliberate. My senses expanded outward. I could feel the faint pulse of life in the mouse nesting behind the wall panel three rooms away. The nervous energy of a first-year student hurrying past in the corridor outside. Even the distant, rhythmic breathing of sleeping tamers in the upper dorms.

More than that, I felt the shadows themselves.

They were no longer mere absence of light. They had weight, texture, intent. Thin tendrils rose from the floor at my silent command, coiling around my wrists like living smoke. They tightened gently, not restraining but anchoring, as if reminding me that I was no longer alone.

“Impressive for a first attempt,” Nyxar murmured, his tone almost approving. “Most new vessels can barely summon a flicker. You adapt quickly. That hunger of yours is proving useful.”

I watched the shadows dance across my palms, forming brief shapes  a claw, a wing, the faint outline of a horn  before dissolving back into formless darkness. A cold thrill ran through me. This was real. Not a dream or a hallucination born of desperation. Power I could touch. Power that answered me.

“What are the limits?” I asked aloud, my voice low. “How far can this go?”

Nyxar’s presence shifted, becoming more intimate, almost seductive in its possessiveness. “Limits are for beasts and their tamers. I am no beast, Lucien. The more you feed me through battle, through fear, through the raw energy of conflict the stronger the bond grows. In time, you will wield shadows that can swallow light itself. Strength that shatters stone. Senses that pierce lies and intentions. And eventually… evolution. Not the petty rank-ups your academy offers. True evolution. My essence will reshape you. Body, Mind and Soul.”

I felt a flicker of unease at the word “reshape,” but it was quickly drowned out by the memory of the hatching the addictive rush that had rewritten my nerves and sharpened my senses. Losing pieces of my old self in exchange for this felt less like sacrifice and more like necessary evolution.

“And the cost?” I pressed, needing to hear it clearly.

Nyxar’s chuckle returned, darker this time. “The cost is you, little contractor. The more you draw on me, the more I become part of you. Your emotions may dull. Your humanity may fray. Some nights you will dream of endless voids and forgotten screams. But in return, you will never be weak again. Never laughed at. Never cast aside. They will fear you. And I… I will savor every moment of it.”

I opened my eyes and looked at my reflection in the cracked mirror. The black flecks in my irises swirled slowly, responding to Nyxar’s words. For the first time since the ceremony, I did not feel like a failure. I felt like the beginning of something inevitable.

A sharp knock sounded at the door, jolting me from the moment.

I dispersed the shadows with a thought and crossed the room. When I opened the door, a junior staff member stood there holding a small crate of cleaning supplies  mops, rags, and bottles of industrial cleaner.

“Drax. Your first assignment. The lower training hall three needs scrubbing before tomorrow’s sessions. Blood and scorch marks from yesterday’s drills. Get it done by midnight.”

The man’s eyes flicked over me briefly, then away. He shoved the crate into my arms and turned to leave without waiting for a response.

I stood there for a moment, the weight of the supplies heavy in my hands. Humiliating work meant for those with no future. Yesterday, it would have burned with shame. Today, it felt like camouflage.

Nyxar’s voice slid through my mind, laced with dark promise. “Accept it. Play the part. While they laugh at the janitor, we will grow. Every shadow in those halls will remember your touch. Every drop of spilled blood will feed us. And when the time comes to reveal ourselves… they will never see it coming.”

I carried the crate down the corridor toward the lower training halls, the academy’s rune-lit passages stretching out before me. Students passed in small groups, their bonded beasts trailing proudly beside them. A few glanced my way, their expressions shifting from curiosity to mockery when they recognized the F-rank failure now reduced to cleaning duty.

I kept my head down, but inside, a cold calculation took shape. I noted every face, every dismissive laugh, every beast that instinctively shied away as I passed.

By the time I reached the training hall, the large space was empty and dimly lit, the floor still stained with dried blood and scorch marks from the previous day’s combat drills. The air smelled of sweat, ozone, and residual magic.

I set the crate down and picked up a mop, but instead of starting immediately, I let my awareness expand. The shadows in the corners of the room responded to my silent call, slithering across the floor like living things. They gathered the dried blood and charred debris, pulling it toward me in neat piles.

A faint smile touched my lips.

This was only the beginning.

The bond was sealed.

And with every passing hour, the line between Lucien Drax and the nightmare he carried grew thinner.

Nyxar’s satisfied chuckle echoed in my mind. “You will do, contractor. You will do very well indeed.”