Page 35 of Dark Shaman: The Lost Treasure
"Then let us proceed," Kian said. "Magnus, Tim, you may begin."
Tim shed the top of his tracksuit, revealing a t-shirt that proclaimed 'I'm Not Anti-Social, I'm Anti-Stupid.' Evidently, he couldn't resist making a statement, or maybe he just didn't have any plain t-shirts.
"Remember what we practiced," Magnus said.
"I do," Tim said.
"You've got this," Magnus encouraged. "Ready?"
Tim nodded, raising his hands in an approximation of a fighting stance that would have made any Guardian in training wince. Magnus circled him slowly, giving him time to adjust.
"Any time now," Tim said, nervous energy making him bold. "Unless you're waiting for me to die of old age first."
Magnus smiled. "There's the Tim I was expecting. Come on then. Attack me."
Tim lunged forward with all the grace of a tranquilized bear. Magnus caught him easily, using his momentum to spin him around. For a moment, Tim actually managed to stay on his feet.
"That was good," Magnus said. "Again."
Kian didn't know whether Magnus was dragging this out because he hadn't managed to produce venom yet or to give Tim the illusion of actually putting up a fight.
They repeated the process several times, with Magnus gradually increasing the speed and force. Tim was sweating profusely now, his breathing labored, but he kept coming.
"He's got guts," one of the watching Guardians murmured.
The next exchange was faster. Tim threw a genuinely decent punch that Magnus deflected before sweeping Tim's legs. Tim hit the mat face first, or rather stomach first, but immediately started fighting against Magnus's hold, bucking and twisting, his face red with effort.
Magnus's fangs descended, his body somehow responding to the pitiful struggle.
"You weigh as much as a damn car!" Tim hissed.
Magnus shifted his hold, applying more pressure. Tim's struggles became more desperate, less calculated. The scent of aggression filled the air—sweat and adrenaline and the primal response to combat.
"Almost there," Vivian said, but Kian didn't know who she was trying to encourage, Tim or Magnus.
Magnus's eyes were glowing now, his fangs fully extended. He lowered his head toward Tim's neck, and Tim actually whimpered.
"It's okay," Magnus said, his voice rough with the effort of control.
The bite, when it came, was precise. Magnus's fangs pierced the skin cleanly, delivering venom for exactly thirty seconds before he pulled back. Tim's entire body went rigid, then limp.
"Is he okay?" Andrew asked.
"He will be," Julian said.
Tim's eyes had rolled back, showing only whites, and Magnus carefully turned him onto his back. "I hope I gave him enough."
That was why the induction was tricky. Too much could kill, and too little didn't do the job.
"He's fine," Julian announced after checking Tim's pulse.
"I'll take him to the clinic." Magnus lifted Tim's unconscious form.
"I'll come with you," Vivian offered.
Usually, the Dormant would go home and be cared for by his mother, if he was still a teenager, or by his partner, if he was older. However, since Tim had neither, it was decided to take him to the clinic and monitor him there. It wasn't fair to ask Thomas or even Andrew to do that.
"I hope he'll change after his transition," Andrew said as Magnus left the gym with Tim, Vivian, Julian, and Ella.
