The glow from Riley's monitors paints the room in cold blue light, flickering across her face as she types furiously, her fingers moving faster than my eyes can follow. I watch from the edge of the room, arms crossed, pulse still racing from the last hour. The warehouse feels smaller, the air thick with old electricity and unsaid words.
She hasn't spoken since the system rebooted itself, since the warning message crackled through the speakers like a whisper from the grave.
You should've stayed out of this, Nathan.
The voice still lingers in my head, an unwelcome echo. I don't scare easily, but something about it feels too personal. Like someone reaching through the dark, just to remind me I was already in the grave—I just hadn't realized it yet.
Riley exhales sharply, frustration laced through the sound. "Whatever's on this drive, they really don't want us to see it," she mutters, tapping a few more keys. A progress bar crawls across the screen at a painfully slow rate.
I force myself to stay still, but my fingers twitch against my bicep. "Can you break it?"
She scoffs, shooting me a glance. "Please. It's me."
I smirk, but it fades quickly. "Then why do you look worried?"
Her hands still for a fraction of a second. It's subtle, but I catch it. Riley isn't just focused—she's tense. Her shoulders tight, her jaw clenched slightly.
She doesn't answer immediately. Then, finally, she leans back, stretching her arms behind her head, feigning casual. "Nathan, do you even get what you're up against?"
I say nothing.
She sighs. "The Oath doesn't just hunt people. They erase them. No records, no history, no whispers in the dark. It's like you never existed." Her hazel eyes lock onto mine, sharp and unreadable. "They don't just want you dead. They want you forgotten."
Something cold settles in my chest.
I shake my head. "That doesn't make sense. If they wanted to wipe me out completely, why not kill me the first chance they got?"
Riley stares at me like she's trying to decide whether I'm worth the truth. Then, quietly, "Because they think you're still useful."
The words dig under my skin.
Something shifts on the screen, numbers and symbols shifting too fast to process. Riley's lips press into a thin line.
I exhale, running a hand through my hair. "I don't remember what I did. What I saw. And now I'm supposed to believe that the people who trained me, who turned me into this, don't just want me dead—but wiped from existence?"
She keeps typing, but I see it again—that flicker of hesitation in her hands.
Riley knows something.
I step closer. "Riley."
Nothing.
I try again, lower this time. "What aren't you telling me?"
She swallows hard, like the answer is a weight she's carried for too long.
"You didn't just run, Nathan." Her voice is barely above a whisper. "You broke something. Something big."
The screen glitches. A flash of text, a name.
Elias Graves.
My stomach twists.
The image vanishes, replaced by a new file. A video.
Riley glances at me. "Are you sure you want to see this?"
My body is already moving before my brain catches up. "Play it."
She hesitates—just for a second—then clicks.
The screen jumps to life, grainy footage flickering in black and white. A security feed. A room.
My breath catches in my throat.
I know this place.
Dim lighting. A single chair in the center of the room. A man sitting in it, slumped forward, arms tied behind his back. Blood on the floor beneath him. His head jerks up at the sound of a door opening.
Footsteps. Slow, deliberate. Someone walks into the frame.
And then—I see myself.
I stop breathing.
The video plays, but my world narrows to that single moment.
Me.
Standing over the man.
Face blank.
Eyes cold.
I watch as I pull a gun from my jacket. I step closer, lean in. The man speaks, but there's no audio.
Then—I pull the trigger.
The man jerks once, then goes still. Blood pools beneath the chair.
I watch myself holster the gun, then turn and walk out of the frame.
Silence.
The footage stops.
Riley doesn't say anything. I can feel her watching me, waiting for a reaction.
My hands curl into fists at my sides. "What the hell is this?" My voice is hoarse, raw.
Riley leans forward, pressing a few keys. "It's from five months ago."
My pulse hammers against my ribs. "I don't—" I shake my head. "I don't remember this. I don't even know who that man was."
Riley's voice is quiet. "The file was erased. This is all that's left."
My skin burns. I take a shaky step back, my breath uneven.
The Oath didn't just train me.
They used me.
Riley stands, cautious, like she's afraid I might snap. "Nathan—"
The warehouse shakes.
A deep, earth-rattling boom echoes through the space. Lights flicker. The servers around us hum louder, then cut out.
Riley curses. "That was close."
My instincts scream at me. Get out. Now.
I move to the window. In the distance, black SUVs. Four of them.
My stomach drops.
They found us.
Riley is already moving, shoving hard drives into a bag. "We have maybe two minutes before they breach that door."
I grab my gun. Safety off.
A voice comes through the intercom. Low. Smooth. Familiar.
"Nathan."
I freeze.
The sound is like a knife to my ribs.
I know that voice.
I know it too well.
Riley goes pale. She recognizes it too.
A pause. Then—
"It's time to come home."
My grip on the gun tightens.
Elias Graves is here.
The lock on the warehouse door clicks.
The handle turns.
Riley meets my eyes. She doesn't have to say it.
We have two choices.
Fight.
Or run.
I exhale, muscles coiling.
"No more running."
The door bursts open.