CHAPTER 27

The Watchers in the Dark

The world is spinning. My skull throbs where I took the hit, but the pain keeps me grounded. Keeps me present.

Footsteps echo in the corridors, methodical, deliberate. They're hunting us.

Riley presses against the cold concrete beside me, her breathing steady, but her fingers are tight around her gun. I can almost feel the calculations running behind her eyes. We don't have long before they find us.

I flex my hands, shaking off the last remnants of disorientation. "How many?"

She glances at me, sharp and precise. "Two, maybe more. Tactical gear, moving like Oath operatives."

That should bother me. The Oath was supposed to be dead.

I grip my weapon tighter, steadying myself. "We need eyes."

Riley nods and moves. She's quick—silent, like a shadow—crossing to a rusted security console against the far wall. It's dead, just like the rest of this place, but Riley doesn't need working systems. She just needs a way in.

I keep watch as she pries open the panel, wires spilling out like exposed veins. Her fingers move with practiced ease, her mind faster than the machine she's working against.

A low beep. Then another.

She exhales. "I'm in."

Static crackles to life. A grainy feed flickers on a small, battered screen. Shadows move on the display—two figures in black, sweeping through the corridor with measured efficiency.

They know we're here.

I tighten my grip on my weapon, adrenaline sharpening my senses.

One of them stops near the entrance, scanning the room. The other moves deeper into the base.

Riley's voice is low. "They're splitting up."

Perfect.

I motion for her to stay low. She doesn't argue.

Then I move.

Silent steps. Control. Precision. The way I was trained.

The first operative is near the entrance, scanning the dark corners. I slip behind him, waiting for the perfect moment.

Then I strike.

My arm wraps around his throat, locking tight before he can react. He thrashes, but I drag him down, cutting off his airflow. No wasted movement.

Seconds later, he's unconscious.

I strip him of his weapons, patting him down for anything useful. My fingers close around a small metal object. A chip.

It's labeled Revenant-2.

A chill settles in my spine.

Behind me, Riley curses. "Damn, it—the second one's moving. Fast."

I shove the unconscious body aside, gripping the chip in my fist. "We're not letting them leave."

We sprint after the second figure. They know we're chasing. They don't hesitate. They cut left, disappearing around a collapsed doorway.

I push harder, feet pounding against the ground. Riley is right beside me, jaw-tight.

The corridor stretches ahead, empty. Too empty.

We slow.

Then—

A flicker of movement.

I pivot, gun raised—

But it's too late.

A flashbang clatters to the floor.

Shit.

I barely get my arm up before the explosion rips through the space, white-hot light searing my vision, sound shattering the air. My ears ring, my balance thrown sideways.

By the time I regain focus, they're gone.

Riley is already moving, eyes scanning for any trace of them. But it's useless.

They escaped.

My jaw clenches, frustration burning in my chest. But I force myself to shove it aside. Not now. Not yet.

I hold up the data chip. "We still have this."

Riley eyes it warily. "That could be bait."

She's not wrong.

But we don't have another option.

We move fast, setting up at a nearby terminal. Riley connects the chip, her fingers flying over the keyboard.

The screen flickers. Scrambled data shifts, rearranging itself in broken pieces. A file emerges. A video.

Riley exhales. "It's encrypted, but I can crack it."

She works, the silence stretching between us.

Then—

The screen stabilizes.

A grainy image appears.

My stomach turns.

Elias.

His face is bruised, blood trailing from his temple. His hands are bound, his shoulders slumped. But his eyes—his eyes are still sharp. Still him.

His voice is raw and hoarse, but the words cut through the static.

"Nathan… if you've made it this far, you know."

I lean in. My pulse is hammering.

"They rewrote you."

Everything in me stops.

I don't breathe. I don't move.

The video glitches. Elias flickers, his expression shifting. Then the feed dies.

Riley's hands tighten on the keyboard. "What the hell does that mean?"

I can't answer.

Because my mind is already spiraling.

They rewrote you.

A part of me wants to dismiss it. But I can't.

Because I've felt it. In the gaps in my memory. The moments that don't align. The feeling that something inside me is just a little off.

I grip the edge of the console, my breath sharp.

Riley's voice is careful. "Nathan."

I meet her gaze.

She studies me, trying to piece something together. Trying to see if the words meant something.

They did.

But before I can say anything—

A voice crackles through our comms.

Low. Distorted.

"You're playing with fire, Nathan."

My blood runs cold.

The line goes dead.

I don't move.

Neither does Riley.

Then, slowly, she pulls out her gun and checks the ammo. "We need to go. Now."

I exhale, steadying myself. But I already know the truth.

We weren't alone in this place.

And now—they know we're coming.