Dominic's heart pounded in his chest as he moved silently through the darkened cargo hold, dragging the unconscious form of Captain Silas Graves into a secluded storage room. The ship was now in motion, its engines humming beneath him as it made its way toward the unknown location. But for Dominic, the location didn't matter. What mattered was the man he'd captured, and the information locked behind his eyes.
The room was small, lit by a single dim light flickering overhead. Boxes of supplies were stacked haphazardly along the walls, creating a maze of shadows. Dominic secured the door behind him and turned back to Graves. The sedative had done its job; the officer was out cold, his breathing slow and steady.
Dominic pulled a small, handheld diagnostic device from his belt, running it over Graves' body. His eyes flicked between the readout on the screen and the man in front of him. The device showed no vital threats—no sign of anything that would cause immediate concern. The officer was just unconscious, nothing more.
But Dominic knew that information could be extracted in a way that didn't require force. His experience with mechs had taught him a lot about the fragility of the mind and the strength of the body when forced to endure extreme conditions. And just as he could fix broken machines, he could fix people, or at least extract the parts of them that were valuable.
The first step was simple—get inside Graves' head.
Dominic knelt beside the officer, his fingers brushing over a small, silver implant embedded in the back of the man's neck. This was no ordinary piece of tech—it was an advanced neural interface, the kind that allowed people to interface directly with data systems, and it was likely how Graves had been able to coordinate his illicit operations. The device was linked to a secure CMC network, no doubt containing valuable information about the officer's dealings and the larger conspiracy Dominic had been hoping to expose.
He connected the device to his own neural interface and felt the familiar hum of his own implant syncing with the officer's tech. The two systems interfaced, a low-level buzz in his skull as the link was established. It was like opening a door into someone else's mind—tentative, invasive, but necessary.
A flood of information began to pour through, snippets of conversations, orders, encrypted files… but nothing concrete yet. Dominic was searching for something specific: a key, a lead, a weakness in the CMC's operations. He sifted through the data, his mind sifting through endless streams of nonsense until—
There it was.
A file, deeply encrypted, labeled "Project Dread." Dominic's pulse quickened. The name alone sent a chill down his spine. He'd heard rumors of a top-secret CMC project, something more dangerous than anything else they had done, but this was the first concrete lead he'd found.
He dug deeper, bypassing several layers of security protocols, carefully navigating the system, until he unlocked the file. The text appeared in his vision, but it was like trying to read through fog—encrypted, fragmented, incomplete.
It didn't matter. He had the key now. He could break it open at the right time.
The next step was simple: wake Graves up and make him talk. The officer wouldn't be able to resist the pressure once he realized what Dominic had just unlocked. He'd spill everything, or Dominic would make sure he did.
Dominic's hand hovered over the small stimulator in his pocket—a device that would send a sharp shock through Graves' system, rousing him from his unconscious state. But before he could activate it, he heard a faint sound outside the room—a footstep, a voice.
He froze.
His mind raced as he slipped into the shadows, pulling Graves' limp body with him. The footsteps grew louder, closer. Someone was coming. Whoever it was couldn't see him, couldn't know he was here. If they did, the mission would be compromised, and everything Dominic had planned would fall apart.
He pressed his back to the wall, breath steady, eyes narrowing as he assessed the situation. There was a panel on the wall near the ceiling—an air vent that could give him a way out. The footsteps were almost on him now. Without another thought, he yanked open the vent cover, lifting Graves into it with a speed born of years of experience. The officer's body barely fit, but Dominic managed to pull him up just in time. He crawled in after him, the small space offering no room for comfort, but just enough to escape.
He heard the door to the storage room open. His heart was a drumbeat in his chest as he held his breath, staying as still as possible in the cramped space. A figure moved into the room below him, speaking quietly into a communicator.
The voice was calm, but the tone carried a cold, controlled authority. "He's not responding. You're sure the captain is in there?"
Dominic's pulse quickened, but he didn't make a sound. He was hidden. He had to stay hidden.
The figure cursed softly. "Check the ventilation shafts. They must have taken him."
Dominic gritted his teeth. He had no time. The officer had been taken from the room. The only thing left to do was get out.
With quiet efficiency, he moved through the ventilation shafts, dragging Graves along with him. He knew the layout of the ship well enough to avoid detection, but time was running out. The ship was heading into CMC-controlled territory, and soon it would be too late to escape unnoticed.
Dominic's thoughts were already working ahead, processing the best way to break the encryption on Graves' data and get to the heart of Project Dread. He had what he needed—just a little more time, and the pieces would fall into place.
The quiet hum of the ship was his only companion as he continued to crawl through the narrow tunnels, Graves' body dragging behind him.
But Dominic was resolute. There was no turning back now.
He was going to destroy the CMC—piece by piece.