In the nightmare, I saw Jason in a school room. Neat rows of desks spread out before him, but the walls were empty. There were no pictures, no life, no evidence of individual expression or personal flourishes. It was all very cold, very inhuman.

A large man sat at one of the small desks, his body tied to the chair. The man’s expensive slate-grey pinstriped suit was wrinkled and stained with sweat and blood, and his felt hat had slid askew, revealing a nearly hairless, slathered wet head below.

“Are you going to k-kill me?” he spluttered.

Jason’s eyes phased darker, and the man’s face twisted into a deformity of pure terror. He began pulling against his restraints—then winced as they cut into his skin.

“I have questions,” Jason said.

“Ohhh, don’t kill me,” the man whined. “Please.” The man’s voice was a soft whimper, all his energy funneled into his kicking feet. They slid uselessly against the floor. “Please.” He didn’t budge. He was tied too tightly to his chair. “I can pay you. Just don’t kill me.”

“No amount of money could compensate for the heinous acts you’ve committed,” Jason said.

“I have a family! Children!” He began to struggle against the ropes again, twisting uselessly, trying to reach for something. “My pocket. Look inside my pocket!”

“Stop.” Jason brushed the tip of his knife against the man’s cheek.

His prisoner sobbed something that vaguely resembled, “Pocket.”

“What will I find there that could possibly wash away your crimes?”

“A picture of my family. Please, have mercy! I will tell you everything. Just let me go!”

Jason’s face was indifferent, almost bored. “Obviously, you haven’t heard of me. If you had, you wouldn’t even entertain the thought that such a plea would interest me.”

“Oh, no! There is not anyone who hasn’t heard of the great Jason Chanz.”

“Flattery will serve you no better. I’m interested only in truths. Tell me what I wish to know, and I’ll consider not sending your corpse to your family.” His copper eyes pulsed another shade darker. “In a thousand packaged pieces.” They were nearly black now. “Along with information on exactly what you have been doing to children here,” he added, which drew a gasp from his prisoner. Jason nodded. “I thought as much. They know nothing of your crimes, do they?”

“No,” he croaked.

Jason gave him a dark smile. “How many schools have the witches created to brainwash mages?”

The man was a witch. As soon as Jason said it, I knew it was true.

“I don’t know.” The witch looked ready to pass out.

Jason brandished his knife again.

“Ok, wait!” the witch pleaded. “We’re not told about the other installations, but there is someone who knows. She visits us all regularly to check on our progress.”

“Who?”

His lip quivered. “Nemesis.”

A savage smile cut across Jason’s hard face. Most mages had only one power. Some had a main power and a secondary ability. Triads like Nemesis had full control over three magical classes. She was a one-woman wrecking ball. And she hated me. Because of me, she’d spent a few hours stuck in the Galactic Transportation Authority, the galaxy’s crown jewel of bureaucracy.

“Wait, aren’t you going to let me go?” the witch called out desperately as Jason turned to leave.

Jason didn’t say a thing. He just looked at the ropes binding the witch. They burst open and spilled to the floor in broken coils. As soon as he was free, the witch sprang up and bolted for the door, a cloud of nervous energy popping all around him. After a fumbled battle with the knob, he jumped forward—then he jumped back again. His screams echoed off the walls. The room before him was full of bodies. Dozens upon dozens of dead bodies, all piled up into neat stacks.

“Feel free to join your friends,” Jason said.

Those were the last words he spoke to the witch. As his body levitated, the screaming man screamed louder, a last cry before the eternal silence. He shot across the room and hit the wall with a crunch.

Jason’s gaze shifted to the torches that lined the circular chamber. Rivers of crackling flames licked out like fiery whips, snapping against the corpses, setting them ablaze.

And as I woke up screaming, batting away flames that weren’t there, I realized the dream wasn’t a dream at all. It was real, and it was happening now. Somewhere out there in the galaxy, Jason had just killed a room full of people.

I froze, a weird feeling tugging at my senses. Phantom magic. A Phantom was in my apartment.