Vincent Kade's name carried weight in Blackreach—the kind that made people disappear when they asked too many questions. His corporation, Kade Industries, was known for developing cutting-edge security tech, but Nightblade now knew it was also funding the criminal underworld.
Standing atop a high-rise across from Kade Tower, he analyzed the towering fortress of glass and steel. Floodlights and armed guards patrolled the perimeter, and the building's security system was state-of-the-art. A direct approach was suicide.
Nightblade smirked. Good thing he didn't do direct.
He activated his grappling line and shot across the street, landing on a balcony two floors below the executive suite. Blending into the shadows, he bypassed the security cameras and picked the lock with surgical precision. Within seconds, he was inside.
The office was immaculate—minimalist furniture, expensive artwork, and a sleek desk that screamed power. But Nightblade wasn't here for decor. He moved to the computer and inserted a data spike. Oracle's voice crackled in his earpiece.
"You've got thirty seconds before their system flags the intrusion."
"Plenty of time," he muttered, scanning files.
Blueprints, bank transactions, weapons shipments—evidence tying Kade to every major crime syndicate in the city. Then he found something else: a file labeled Project Revenant.
Before he could open it, an alarm blared.
"And there's the security fail-safe. Time to move!" Oracle shouted.
Nightblade ejected the spike and turned—just as the door burst open. Three armed guards stormed in, weapons raised. Without hesitation, he flicked his wrist, and twin daggers of solid shadow formed in his hands.
The fight was over in seconds. Nightblade ducked under gunfire, slicing through the first guard's weapon before dropping him with a strike to the throat. The second lunged, but a sweep kick sent him crashing into the desk. The third tried to retreat, but Nightblade hurled a shadow dagger, pinning his arm to the wall.
More footsteps thundered down the hall. Reinforcements.
"Oracle, exit route?"
"North window, fire escape—if you don't mind a fifty-foot drop."
He sprinted to the window and smashed through just as bullets riddled the walls behind him. Free-falling through the night air, he twisted midair and shot his grapple, swinging onto a nearby rooftop.
As he vanished into the city's darkness, he smirked.
He had what he needed.
But Project Revenant had just made things personal.