I never thought that this day would come. 1 year at the academy, 1 year training, 3 more patrolling, and I finally did it. This was the first thing I saw as soon as I clocked in at work today and checked my email. It wasn’t spam, it wasn’t chain mail – it was my approval. My hard work is finally being acknowledged and rewarded.

 

“Reyes.” That voice. I turned around, and it was my supervisor, Sgt. Jack O’Malley. There were also 2 others beside him; the first was the watch commander, Lt. Maria Rodriguez. But the second, I was unfamiliar with.

 

They started walking to my location, and I shot up from behind the computer, straightened out my uniform, and happily greeted them. “Sergeant. Lieutenant.” I smiled and nodded, shaking their hands. Then came the third handshake. “And you are?”

 

“I see you opened the email. Congratulations on your promotion.” He looked behind me, glancing at my mail opened on the desktop, then he formally introduced himself, hand extended. “Reyes, I am Captain Ron Sullivan, K9 commander. From now on, I will be guiding your training as a K9 handler. Happy hunting.”

 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Captain.” I extended my hand and shook his hand. It was rugged but firm, probably all those years of training and leashing K9’s.

 

“Good hand there, Reyes, you’ll definitely need a good grip when we introduce you to a partner later. “A partner, I haven’t had a partner since my training days, and that was my training officer.

 

“Alex, we have some paperwork you’ll need to fill out before you head out with Capt. Sullivan.” My sergeant added to the conversation.

 

Great, I usually hate paperwork, but for this, this’ll be the only time I’ll ever love it. “Alright, we can get that over with right now.”

 

“I’ll see you in a bit then.” Capt. Sullivan said his goodbyes, and I started on the paperwork.

 

That “little bit” was a lot longer than I expected it to be. It took almost 2 hours. 2 damn hours’ worth of paperwork. God, the sergeant should’ve given me a heads-up before just throwing a stack of papers on my desk; no wonder he had that stupid grin on his face. While I really hated that, I knew it was all worth it now as I grabbed all my things and started driving all the way to O’Hare.

 

I don’t typically make my way all the way out here, usually for concerts near Rosemont, but today was different. The training facility was behind the airport, and that’s the only destination I am looking forward to as I drive on the highway.

 

The traffic wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be, and before long, I was standing in front of the facility with a box full of my gear. I took a deep breath, a real one, letting it settle in my chest. This was finally happening. My hard work was in motion.

 

The building itself wasn’t anything flashy. A long, low structure of tan brick and steel, tucked behind the airport like the city forgot to finish it. But the place had space — real space. Wide training fields stretched out behind tall fencing, patches of worn grass marked by obstacle rigs, scent lanes, and bite‑work stations. No sirens, no crowds, no stacked precinct noise. Just open air and the distant rumble of planes taking off. Then, there was the construction site across. No one is working today as all the equipment was parked neatly. Nothing really noteworthy.

 

Inside, the lobby was simple yet clean. Concrete floors, scuffed by years of paws and boots. A faint scent of disinfectant mingled with dog fur — not the worst thing I’ve smelled. Hallways branched toward kennels, classrooms, and training bays. Everything seemed like it had purpose. No wasted space. No wasted time.

 

And right at the reception desk, waving me over like we were old friends, stood Captain Sullivan. “Alex, you’re here.”

 

I closed the distance between us quickly. I placed my stuff on the reception desk and greeted properly, hand extended. “Captain, nice to see you again.”

 

Firm handshake like before. “Let’s finally get you prepared.”

 

Before I could get settled with the captain, coming from behind me, there was barking. And it was loud and aggressive. We turned to look at the front door, only to see another handler bringing in another dog. It was a German Shepard. Loud, constantly moving around as the handler struggled to restrain it with the leash, not listening at all. “Dammit, sit still, boy!”

 

“Is that the new one? The one that had a put-down order on?” The captain muttered.

 

Put-down? I wonder what it’s done to have that be placed on it.

 

“Yeah, this is the one the drug dealers had. Feisty guy for sure, I heard it took down 3 of our guys –  non-lethal bites, thank god – like it was nothing,” the other handler gritted his teeth, still struggling with holding down the dog.

 

I can see the name on its tag – Sol. “Sientate.” I yelled out loudly in my Spanish voice, without thinking. Oh-oh.

 

And that was it, it stopped. Sat down, no bark, no pulling its own leash, just pure, calm, sitting while its tail wagged. It looked at me, and I looked back at him. It wasn’t disobedient on purpose; he just didn’t understand it. And he found me, who understood him.

 

Both the captain and the handler both look surprised. The captain even took his hat off. “Well, I’ll be damned, that’s the first he’s ever listened to anyone.”

 

The handler suddenly gave me his leash. “Say something else.”

 

I was put on the spot. I looked at the dog sitting in front of me. I cleared my throat before I finally found the words I was looking for. “A mi lado.”

 

His ears perked up instantly. No aggression, no barking. A simple command, and that’s exactly what he did as he came to my side and sat right next to me. His panting on my leg, that’s all I felt in that moment from him. Like he’s been waiting for this moment – and his next command.

 

The captain let out a long exhale. “Looks like I don’t have to bring out one of the dogs from the back,” he shook his head, smiling. “Seems like he’s already picked you, Alex.”

 

I looked at him once more. He looked right back at me, and a small whimper came from him. Is he expecting something? A treat perhaps? Then I remembered I had leftover beef jerky in my box of equipment. I grabbed it and gave him a small portion. “Here.”

 

I winced a bit, closing my eyes as he grabbed the treat from my hand. To my surprise, he gently took it, leaving only saliva on the tip of my fingers. I knelt, placing my right hand on his head as I began to pet him. “Good boy.” The fur between my hand, it was warm. Familiar.

 

It was the same feeling, the same warmth. “Good boy,” I whispered under my breath. Everything had shifted back to where I was, the moment my hand was placed right on the hellhound.

 

“Good boy?” I forgot he could talk.

 

“Forget what I just said,” I remarked.

 

The hellhound perked one ear up, almost like he had raised an eyebrow. “Very well then, are you ready to commence?”

 

I can feel it – his mana colliding with mine at the tip of my fingers. The air around us started to shift, and the clouds above darkened. Like a storm brewing around us, reacting to our contract.

 

I took a deep breath. “I’m ready.”

 

“Our mana will collide,” he started to explain. “Release yours as I release mine; the contract bind is dictated by who the winner is. If mine wins, there is no contract, and if yours wins, then we’ll be bound together.”

 

I started to concentrate, so did he. The rain started: we started.

 

The surge in our mana pools, the clouds twisting, darkening – the thunder above us. It was a clash, and one I can’t afford to lose. The rain poured harder, his mana climbing, but so was mine. Thunder struck near us as our mana struck each other, at the same time mirroring each of our actions. The environment is alive because of us.

 

“Your mana is magnificent, Alex.” The hellhound’s voice rumbled through the storm; I felt a small tug of a smile form on my lips. “Now show me your resolve.”

 

I held nothing back. And neither did he.

 

The wind around us picked up, continuing to mirror what happened next. My mana didn’t consume his, no, it was different. His mana started to mix with mine, like yin and yang, finding the balance and harmony within both our magic. Balance where there shouldn’t be, harmony where destruction should be.

 

Thunder struck, this time right on us. An explosion, a surge – the last collision and push needed. And like that – the contract was done.

 

I lay on the floor, and he did too as the rain poured on us. I looked up to see him, but an image of something else was in front of me – a lifeless Sol. I blinked hard, but reality was back to how it was; it was the hellhound staring at me. I quickly got up and started to dust myself. “Why…” I muttered under my breath.

 

“It is done, Alex, you and I have formed the contract.” The hellhound shook its entire body as it took off the layer of mud and water on its fur.

 

“That was intense.” I rolled my arms around, making sure everything in and out of my body was still functioning. I did just get struck by a thunderbolt, and normally, that would kill someone, but I guess I’m not someone.

 

The rain continued; I figured it’d be gone by now. “There is conflict within you, isn’t there?” The hellhound now stood up, approaching me.

 

“You can tell?” I sighed. There was that flashback. And just now, that awful image. I guess I couldn’t have hidden it better.

 

The hellhound glanced at the sky. “That’s why it’s raining still, you haven’t fully accepted me yet.”

 

I could say what was on my mind, but I didn’t. “Oh, it’s just that I haven’t gotten to know you better yet. I’m sure once we start exploring, I’ll get used to your presence.” I lied straight out of my teeth.

 

He looked at me sideways, then began to walk in front of me. “Perhaps giving me a name would bring us closer?”

 

A name. Shit, I was so busy not thinking about it earlier, now I have to think of one. I scratched my cheek. “Uh, let’s hold that thought for a second. I want to know you better before I can decide on a name. Sound good?”

 

“Sounds reasonable.” He agreed.

 

We made our way past the courtyard and now, right in front of the old, beaten mansion. The hellhound was right in front of me as he stood at the top of the porch. He was excited for sure, as he wagged his tail constantly.

 

“Shall I break the door down?” He offered.

 

I took the keys out of my pocket. “You don’t have to do that.” I looked for the one labeled front. And with that good guess, the door unlocked.

 

I grabbed the handle, and I opened it.