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Nathan has spent the last five years trying to leave his past behind. Once an elite operative of The Oath, a secret organization controlling world events from the shadows, he walked away, seeking peace. But one night, he wakes up in a bloodstained room with no memory of the last 48 hours—only to find himself branded as a terrorist and the target of a nationwide manhunt.

On the run and unsure if he truly committed the crime, Nathan turns to Riley, a skilled underground hacker, for help. As they dig deeper, they uncover a terrifying truth—his memories have been altered. Clues left behind by Elias Graves reveal that Nathan once broke his unbreakable oath to the organization, but someone wiped his mind to keep him from remembering why. The conspiracy leads to Julian, Nathan’s former best friend, who is orchestrating a global web of deception built on manufactured threats and lies.

Determined to uncover the truth, Nathan infiltrates The Oath’s headquarters for a final confrontation with Julian. But the shocking revelation leaves him shattered—Nathan wasn’t framed. He willingly took part in the crime but later chose to erase his own memory to escape the unbearable guilt. A recorded message from his past self forces him to face a critical decision:

Expose Julian and bring down The Oath, risking global chaos.

Take control of The Oath and become the very thing he once fought against.


No matter what he chooses, the cost is high. If he exposes The Oath, the world is thrown into instability, and he is forever hunted. If he takes over, he sacrifices his own ideals, embracing the power he once rejected.

In the end, as Nathan looks at his reflection, he sees Julian staring back—proof that the cycle never truly ends.

Final Line:
"Every man thinks he's the hero of his own story… until he becomes the villain in someone else’s."

SHADOWS OF THE OAT

Red warning lights strobe, cutting jagged shadows across the walls. The air thickens with the stench of scorched metal as security drones swarm the corridor. Their mechanical limbs hiss, guns clicking into place, each movement calculated, efficient, lethal.

A drone lunges. I sidestep, bringing my elbow down hard against its core. Metal groans beneath the impact, but it recalibrates fast. I jam my pistol against its optics and pull the trigger. The shot rips through its head, sending it crashing into a mess of sparking wires.

Behind me, Riley moves with practiced speed, her fingers dancing over her tablet as she fights to disrupt their systems. Disrupt. Disable. Destroy.

"I'm overriding their targeting," she shouts. "Give me a second!"

Another drone pivots toward me, its targeting sensors locking on. I grab a fallen pipe, swinging it hard. The impact sends the machine skidding across the floor, but it doesn't stay down. It rises, recalibrates, and charges again.

I fire two rounds—one in the knee joint, one in the chest cavity. The drone jerks violently before collapsing, its systems frying.

Riley curses. "They're adapting. They're linked. If I can't break their connection—"

She yanks a cable from her device, slamming it into a nearby console. The system flickers. The drones glitch.

For a second, just a second, they freeze.

Pushing forward, I drive through the chaos. My muscles burn, but I don't stop. Every step forward is a war. I rip, tear, and shoot my way through, clearing a path until—

A sharp, electric pain detonates behind my eyes. My knees buckle. The gun slips from my grip. My vision fractures.

"Nathan?" Riley's voice cuts through the haze, sharp with concern.

I try to respond, but my throat locks.

I'm strapped down. Cold metal bites into my wrists. Restraints coil around my chest like a vice. My breath is ragged, my heart hammering like a war drum.

He leans in, his expression clinical, his voice smooth, surgical.

"You won't remember any of this," he murmurs. "But you will obey."

I thrash against the restraints. "No—"

Pain erupts behind my eyes. A searing, white-hot agony that burns through my skull, drilling into something deeper.

And when I wake up, I'm standing in the bunker again, gasping, my body drenched in sweat.

Riley crouches beside me, gripping my arm. "Nathan."

I look at her, my hands still shaking.

She sees it—the fear, the doubt, the horror clawing its way through me.

My voice is raw, fractured. "I was programmed."

The words taste like rust. Like betrayal.

"It wasn't a choice," I whisper. "It was designed."

Riley doesn't flinch. Doesn't recoil. She just watches, sharp-eyed, calculating.

Because if this is true—if they rewrote me—then where do I end and where do they begin?

"What if I'm still compromised?" I murmur. "What if I'm still theirs?"

"Then we burn the ones who did this to you."

The way she says it—cold, certain—it's not a promise. It's a fact.

For the first time since this nightmare started, I feel something like solid ground beneath me.

I nod once. "Then we start with Voss."

She hauls me to my feet. "Damn right, we do."

The bunker hums around us, the remnants of the battle fading. The air is thick with scorched circuits, broken metal, and the faint sting of blood.

A new transmission cuts through our comms.

The voice is distorted but undeniable.

"Nathan," he says, his voice sharp, urgent. "You don't have much time."

And just like that, the ground shifts beneath us again.

CHAPTER 29