2025-02-18 19:09:55The warehouse stands ahead, its rusted walls blending into the dark edges of the city. The coordinates led me here. Something in my gut tells me I’ve been here before. But my memory? Blank.
I stop the bike a block away, rolling it into the shadows. Never walk straight into the unknown. Always have an escape plan. The air smells like oil and decay. The windows are broken. The wood is rotting. A perfect hiding place for someone who doesn’t want to be found. Or someone who doesn’t want to remember. I run my hand along the steel doorframe, feeling for anything strange. My fingers catch on a small groove—a tiny mark left by someone who knew this place well. Someone like me. The lock needs a six-digit code. My hands move before I can think. My fingers press the numbers on their own. Beep. The lock clicks open. Inside, the room is empty except for a few mattresses, a stash of weapons, a rusted sink, and a small desk with an old laptop. The second I step in, my chest tightens. Familiar. Not safe, not comfortable—just familiar. Like I’ve been here before. Like my fingerprints are already in this room. But I don’t remember setting this place up. I move fast, checking for hidden cameras, traps, anything out of place. Nothing. If The Oath had found this place, they would’ve left something behind. A warning. A bomb. But it’s clean. For now. I press the power button on the laptop. The screen flickers, filled with static. Then— A voice. Broken. Distorted. But real. "If you're watching this… you don’t remember yet." I freeze. The voice is damaged, but I know it. Familiar. The screen flickers again, showing a man’s blurry face. Older. Sharp eyes. Someone I should know. I lean closer, gripping the desk. "They’re coming. Trust your instincts, Nathan. Not your memories." A shiver runs down my spine. My pulse races. My instincts have kept me alive. My memories have only left me lost. Then—BOOM. The explosion rips through the building. The blast comes from the south side, tearing the wall apart in fire and metal. The force knocks me back, my ears ringing with white noise. Heat burns my skin. The floor tilts under me. The ceiling groans. They found me. Adrenaline hits hard. I roll, dodging falling debris. No time. Move. Boots slam against the floor outside. I reach for the nearest gun—a Glock 19. My hands check the mag out of pure reflex. Fifteen rounds. The first agent steps through the smoke. I fire. The shot is clean. Precise. He drops. Another shadow moves behind him. I pivot, aim, fire. Another body hits the ground. The smoke is thick, the air full of burning metal. My lungs scream for oxygen, but I can’t stop. A third agent rushes in, rifle raised. Too fast. I dive behind the overturned table, bullets tearing through the space where I just stood. My back slams against the desk. My fingers touch the laptop. The message. The man. The warning. No time. I grab the laptop, shove it into a backpack near the weapons stash. Bullets tear through the wooden beams beside me. They aren’t here to capture me. They’re here to erase me. The exit is blocked. The blast destroyed the back wall. That leaves only one way out—the second-floor window. I move. Fast. I vault over the table, sprint toward the metal shelves against the wall. I climb, my wounded side burning. A bullet grazes my shoulder, leaving a trail of fire across my skin. I bite down the pain. No time to feel it. The window is cracked, some glass already broken. I kick through the rest and jump. Cold air slams into me. The ground rushes up fast. I tuck my body, rolling as I hit the pavement. Pain shoots through me, but I push it down. More boots. More shadows. More threats. I can’t fight them all. I run. I disappear into the maze of the city, the laptop secure in my bag, my mind racing with one question. Who was the man in the video? And why do I feel like I already know the answer?
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CHAPTER 220
The Last ThoughtI stare at my reflection, my breath uneven, my eyes hollow. The glass is cracked—thin fractures running like veins across the surface, distorting my face. Fitting.The overhead light flickers, casting brief shadows across the room. It’s cold. Not the kind of cold that bites at your skin, but the kind that settles in your bones, that tells you something is coming. The kind that makes you wonder if it’s always been there, waiting.I press my palms against the sink, fingers curling against the porcelain. The weight in my chest isn’t fear. It isn’t regret. It’s something worse. A question with no answer.Behind me, the door creaks open. A slow, deliberate sound. My hand moves instinctively to my gun, but I already know who it is."That the last time you’re gonna check yourself out, Nathan?" a voice teases, rough with amusement.I smirk, though it feels foreign on my face. "Figured I should see what’s left of me before I walk out that door."Jackson leans against the doorf
CHAPTER 219
The End of the LineThe city is quiet. Too quiet.Not the kind of quiet that comes with peace, but the kind that signals something is about to break. It settles over the skyline, heavy, waiting. The streets are empty, but the ghosts of what I’ve built, of what I’ve destroyed, linger in the alleyways and shadowed corners.I stand at the edge of it all, watching from the rooftop of an old high-rise, the cold wind whipping against my face. Below me, the pieces are moving, each player stepping into position, some thinking they’re the ones holding the strings. They aren’t.They never were.Jackson shifts beside me, his hands buried deep in his pockets. He’s restless. Always is before things go south.“You sure about this?” he asks.I don’t answer right away. Because there’s no easy answer. No right one, either.He sighs, shaking his head. “You always do this. Get in too deep and think you can control every variable. But this—” he gestures to the streets below, to the quiet before the storm
CHAPTER 218
The Final MoveThe city is waiting.It doesn't know it yet, but the tides are shifting. Power doesn’t disappear; it transforms and morphs into something new, something unrecognizable until it’s already taken hold. I’ve seen it happen too many times to count. This time, I’m the one pulling the strings.This time, it ends on my terms.I stand in the shadows of an empty warehouse, the scent of oil and dust thick in the air. The city hums outside, its lights flickering through the gaps in the rusted metal walls. Jackson stands beside me, his body tense, arms crossed. He’s waiting for me to explain, to tell him what comes next.I let the silence stretch before I finally speak.“We’re not burning it down.”Jackson’s head snaps toward me, eyes narrowing. “What?”I meet his stare, my voice steady. “We’re not wiping the board clean. We’re flipping it.”For the first time in a long time, Jackson looks unsure. He shifts his weight, jaw tightening as he processes my words. “You said yourself—this
CHAPTER 217
The Final CrossroadsThe city hums beneath me, restless and alive. From this rooftop, I see everything—the neon glow stretching into the horizon, the winding streets below, the fractured heartbeat of a place that never stops moving. A world of light and shadow, built on secrets, power, and debts that can never truly be repaid.The air is thick with the scent of rain and asphalt, the faintest trace of gasoline lingering in the wind. It’s the smell of something on the verge of combustion, of a city always teetering on the edge of chaos. I tighten my grip on the cigarette between my fingers, watching the ember glow in the dark, a tiny heartbeat against the cold night. I don’t smoke. Not really. I just like the way it feels—holding something that’s burning, something that’s alive for just a little while before it fades into nothing.I should walk away.I should let it all burn.But I don’t.Because no matter how much I tell myself that I don’t care anymore, that none of it matters, the tr
CHAPTER 216
The Last Time He Sees RileyThe air is colder than I expected. Maybe that’s fitting. Maybe that’s how it’s supposed to be.She’s already there when I arrive, standing near the edge of the pier, arms folded tight against the wind. The city sprawls behind her, all light and noise, but out here, it’s just the quiet lapping of the water and the space between us.Riley doesn’t turn when I approach.“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” she says, her voice carrying over the water, calm but unreadable.I stop a few feet away. Close enough to feel the weight of her presence. Far enough to know I shouldn’t get any closer.“Neither was I,” I admit.She exhales a slow, steady breath. “You look the same.”“So do you.”A lie.There’s something different in her now. Something more guarded, more distant. Like she’s finally built the walls she should’ve had when we were younger.Like she’s learned.She turns, finally meeting my gaze, and for a moment, it’s just us. No past, no future. Just this one sliver of t
CHAPTER 215
The Fall of KingsThe thing about power is that it never learns.It moves through different hands, dresses itself in new suits, and speaks in fresh voices. But underneath, it’s always the same: greed, arrogance, and the inevitable mistake of thinking you can control what was never meant to be tamed.Ronan believed he could do it differently.I watch from the shadows as he proves himself wrong.---The city is quieter these days. Not because the storm has passed, but because it’s waiting to break.I see it in the way people move, the way deals are whispered instead of spoken. Ronan’s reign is still fresh, but already, the cracks are showing.And he doesn’t even realize it.Or maybe he does. Maybe he’s just too proud to admit it.I’m standing outside a high-rise downtown, watching from across the street. Up there, behind floor-to-ceiling windows, Ronan is playing king. A meeting’s in progress—his men, his allies, his problems.He thinks he has time. He thinks he’s in control.He doesn’t
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