A Life RewrittenPain. That was the first thing I felt. A deep, splitting pain behind my eyes, as if my brain had been cracked open and left exposed.I gasped, my body jerking against the cold table, every nerve ending on fire. My head throbbed, my vision blurred, and for a moment, I couldn’t tell where I was. Then the flood came.Memories—no, ghosts—rushed through me in rapid succession. A kaleidoscope of past lives, buried truths clawing their way back into my mind. They weren’t just fragments. They were real.I saw a room, dimly lit, lined with steel and secrets. A man stood before me, his eyes sharp with calculation. Julian.“You understand what this means?” he asked.I nodded. “I do.”The words echoed in my mind, the certainty in my own voice making my stomach churn. This wasn’t a trick. This wasn’t a planted memory.I had said those words.I had agreed.The machine buzzed, another wave crashing over me. Blood on my hands—missions carried out with cold precision. Names, faces, or

Riley’s DoubtsRiley hadn’t said a word in over an hour.She sat across from me in the dimly lit warehouse, her arms crossed, foot tapping a slow, restless rhythm against the concrete floor. Her face was unreadable, but I could see the tension in her shoulders and the stiffness in her posture.I knew that silence.It was the kind that built up before a storm."Just say it," I muttered, running a hand through my hair.Nothing.She stared at the wall like I wasn’t even in the room.The others were outside, prepping for our next move, but here, in this space, it was just the two of us. The air was thick with unspoken words, heavy with something I wasn’t sure I wanted to name.Finally, she exhaled, slow and sharp, before turning her gaze on me."You weren’t framed, Nathan." Her voice was calm, but her eyes burned. "You chose this."The words hit like a fist to the gut.I gritted my teeth. "I know."She scoffed. "Do you?""Riley—""You were part of them," she cut in. "You stood beside Juli

Julian’s PropositionI barely slept after my encounter with Julian. His words had taken root, spreading through my mind like a sickness. The past I thought I’d buried wasn’t just alive—it was knocking at my door.By morning, I convinced myself he’d walk away. That he’d said his piece and moved on.I was wrong.Julian finds me first.It’s mid-afternoon when I step out of the bar for some air, the weight in my chest heavier than usual. I don’t see him at first. He’s good at that—blending into the edges, slipping into places unnoticed until he’s ready to be seen. But then I catch the faintest shift of movement in the alley beside the building, and I know.He’s waiting.I consider walking the other way. Ignoring him. But I already know how that plays out. Julian isn’t the kind of man you ignore.So, I step into the alley, and there he is. Arms crossed, leaning casually against the brick wall, looking like he belongs in the shadows.He smirks. “You came faster than I expected.”I stop a fe

A Shadow of His Former SelfThe dim glow of the chandelier flickered against the marble floor as I stepped into the room. Julian sat at the head of the long table, a glass of something dark and expensive in his hand. He looked up when I entered, his expression unreadable, but I caught the faint flicker of amusement in his eyes.“You came,” he said, swirling the liquid in his glass. “I was starting to think you’d rather let the world rot than have a real seat at the table.”I didn’t sit. Not yet. I had spent too many years in this very room, listening to men who thought power made them untouchable. The Oath wasn’t just an organization. It was a machine—one that chewed people up and spit them out as something else.Something less.I leaned against the back of the nearest chair, keeping my movements casual. “Maybe I just wanted to see if you were as full of shit as I remembered.”Julian chuckled, setting his glass down. “Nathan, if you were here to say no, you wouldn’t have come at all.”

The Hard TruthThe transport van rumbled down the dark road, its tires humming against the cracked pavement. The dim overhead light flickered, casting brief flashes over the men seated inside, their faces impassive, their weapons resting against their thighs like extensions of themselves. The air inside was thick with tension, a quiet, unspoken understanding that when the doors opened, blood would be spilled.I sat near the back, my Glock cool in my hands, my grip steady and controlled. My fingers traced the engraved serial number on the side—an old habit, one that kept my mind grounded. Across from me, Lawrence smirked, his dark eyes gleaming with amusement. He had never trusted me, and now that I was back, he was waiting for me to slip, to prove him right."You look like you’ve seen a ghost," he muttered, tilting his head.I didn’t answer.Lawrence leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. "You gonna choke when the time comes?"I met his gaze, my voice level. "You’re