2025-03-01 13:00:02The Forgotten Mission
The footage is old and corrupted by time and interference. The colors bleed at the edges and the audio crackles like a dying transmission. But the figures in the video are unmistakable.Julian and me.Riley and I sit in silence, watching the playback. The timestamp confirms it—this is from the night he disappeared. My heart pounds against my ribs as I take in the details.We’re moving through a dimly lit corridor, our bodies low, weapons drawn. The walls are cold metal, industrial, a facility long abandoned but still humming with something unseen.I look strong. Confident. But Julian... he keeps glancing over his shoulder, uneasy. He knows something.Then, the moment that matters.In my hands, I see it. A small metallic case. A data drive.Julian gestures toward it, saying something, but the audio is garbled, reduced to static and fractured syllables. His lips move, his eyes hard, urgent—he
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SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 25
The Fracture PointThe past is a cruel thing. It waits in the dark corners of your mind, patient and still, until the moment you least expect it. Then it strikes—sinking its claws in, dragging you backward, forcing you to relive what you desperately want to forget.I stare at the old military dossier sprawled across Riley’s desk, my pulse hammering like a war drum. Coordinates, declassified reports, and the faded photograph of a place that should’ve been buried under history: an abandoned base, hidden deep in the forest, where The Oath had once carried out their most classified operations.Riley moves beside me, flipping through the papers. Her sharp eyes dart between documents, lips pursed, the weight of the past pressing down on both of us.“We leave at dawn,” she says, but she’s barely looking at me. Her fingers tighten on a report labeled "Incident Report: Julian Cain."Julian.The name sends a cold bolt through my spine. The
SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 26
Following the Ghost’s TrailThe abandoned base rises from the earth like a corpse that never finished decomposing—its bones twisted metal, its skin peeling concrete. Nature has started reclaiming it, vines slithering over rusted gates, trees pressing against crumbling walls. But there’s something else. A presence.This place isn’t as dead as it should be.Riley steps out of the vehicle first, gun drawn, scanning the perimeter with a practiced eye. I follow, instincts humming, every nerve on edge. The air here is thick and stale, carrying the scent of decay and old secrets.The Oath left this place behind years ago and burned everything they could on their way out. But someone—someone—has been here since.We step inside.The silence is oppressive, but silence can lie. It can hide things. Bury them beneath the surface.Dust coats the floor in uneven layers, broken by footsteps. Some fresh, some old. Some leading further in
SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 27
The Watchers in the DarkThe 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.
SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 28
Into the LabyrinthThe door groans open, the ancient locking mechanisms protesting as Riley works her magic. A final click, a low metallic hiss, and the seal breaks. Stale air rushes out, thick with dust, and something deeper—something wrong.I grip my weapon tighter as we step inside.The bunker is cold, the kind that seeps through your skin and settles in your bones. It stretches before us in tight corridors and shadowed alcoves, barely lit by the weak flicker of overhead bulbs.Riley exhales. “This place is still running.”Not fully, but enough.Someone’s been here. Recently.I glance around, scanning the old terminals lining the walls and the rusted desks covered in decayed files and abandoned notes. But among the ruins, something hums—a faint vibration through the floor.I follow it.Riley stays close, her eyes sharp, every step deliberate.The sound leads us deeper, past rooms filled with
SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 29
The Enemy WithinThe bunker explodes into chaos.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.I don’t think. I move.Fire. Pivot. Strike. Reload.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!”We don’t have a second.Another drone pivots toward me, its targeting
SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 30
Julian’s Final MessageThe gunshot cracks through the stale air, a sharp whip of death. My instincts kick in before thought—muscle memory firing faster than logic.Move.I throw myself sideways, colliding with Riley as the bullet shreds through the air where I’d been standing. The metal table behind us takes the hit with a brutal clang, sparks flying as the round ricochets.Riley lands hard against the floor, cursing. "Sniper—three o’clock, rooftop!"I don’t stop moving. Rolling to a crouch, I yank my sidearm free, scanning the bunker’s shattered window. Too exposed. The sniper has a clean vantage point, and if they’re trained, the next shot won’t miss.Riley’s already on it. She slams her fingers against her tablet, hacking into the security feed. "Come on, come on—give me eyes!"Another shot. The glass explodes above us. Shards rain down like jagged stars. I duck behind a rusted console, pulse hammering."How
SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 31
A Chance EncounterThe air in the warehouse was thick with dust, the scent of rust and damp wood hanging in the silence. Every creak of the floorboards beneath my boots sent a fresh wave of tension crawling up my spine. Riley walked beside me, her sharp eyes scanning every darkened corner. Neither of us spoke, but we didn’t need to—we were both waiting for the inevitable.The message had been simple: "Come alone. Trust no one."Well, we weren’t alone. And I sure as hell didn’t trust anyone.I flexed my fingers against the cool grip of my gun, my muscles coiled and ready. The warehouse was cavernous, shadows stretching into the rafters above us, crates stacked like forgotten memories. It felt like a setup. My instincts screamed at me to turn around. But we needed answers.Then, it happened.Figures emerged from the darkness—silent, efficient, well-trained. Guns clicked, safeties off. Riley and I spun, back-to-back, weapons raised. My pulse spiked, but my mind remained cold. These weren
SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 32
The Rogue OperativesThe air was thick with tension as we drove through the backroads in silence, the engine’s low hum the only sound between us. My ribs still ached from the warehouse explosion, but I wasn’t sure if the pain came from the impact or the weight pressing down on my chest. Julian’s voice still echoed in my head."I’ve been watching the entire time."I gritted my teeth, staring out the window. I had spent months running, trying to disappear, but Julian had never really lost sight of me. He had let me run. Let me think I was free. And now, he was tightening the leash.Next to me, Riley tapped her fingers against the dashboard, her restless energy crackling like a live wire. "You good?"I didn’t answer. What was I supposed to say? That every part of me screamed that this was a mistake? That trusting Marcus, trusting anyone, was a risk I wasn’t sure I could afford?She sighed. "Nathan."I exhaled sharply. "I’ll be good when I know what the hell we just walked into."Up front
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CHAPTER 220
The Last ThoughtI stare at my reflection, my breath uneven, my eyes hollow. The glass is cracked—thin fractures running like veins across the surface, distorting my face. Fitting.The overhead light flickers, casting brief shadows across the room. It’s cold. Not the kind of cold that bites at your skin, but the kind that settles in your bones, that tells you something is coming. The kind that makes you wonder if it’s always been there, waiting.I press my palms against the sink, fingers curling against the porcelain. The weight in my chest isn’t fear. It isn’t regret. It’s something worse. A question with no answer.Behind me, the door creaks open. A slow, deliberate sound. My hand moves instinctively to my gun, but I already know who it is."That the last time you’re gonna check yourself out, Nathan?" a voice teases, rough with amusement.I smirk, though it feels foreign on my face. "Figured I should see what’s left of me before I walk out that door."Jackson leans against the doorf
CHAPTER 219
The End of the LineThe city is quiet. Too quiet.Not the kind of quiet that comes with peace, but the kind that signals something is about to break. It settles over the skyline, heavy, waiting. The streets are empty, but the ghosts of what I’ve built, of what I’ve destroyed, linger in the alleyways and shadowed corners.I stand at the edge of it all, watching from the rooftop of an old high-rise, the cold wind whipping against my face. Below me, the pieces are moving, each player stepping into position, some thinking they’re the ones holding the strings. They aren’t.They never were.Jackson shifts beside me, his hands buried deep in his pockets. He’s restless. Always is before things go south.“You sure about this?” he asks.I don’t answer right away. Because there’s no easy answer. No right one, either.He sighs, shaking his head. “You always do this. Get in too deep and think you can control every variable. But this—” he gestures to the streets below, to the quiet before the storm
CHAPTER 218
The Final MoveThe city is waiting.It doesn't know it yet, but the tides are shifting. Power doesn’t disappear; it transforms and morphs into something new, something unrecognizable until it’s already taken hold. I’ve seen it happen too many times to count. This time, I’m the one pulling the strings.This time, it ends on my terms.I stand in the shadows of an empty warehouse, the scent of oil and dust thick in the air. The city hums outside, its lights flickering through the gaps in the rusted metal walls. Jackson stands beside me, his body tense, arms crossed. He’s waiting for me to explain, to tell him what comes next.I let the silence stretch before I finally speak.“We’re not burning it down.”Jackson’s head snaps toward me, eyes narrowing. “What?”I meet his stare, my voice steady. “We’re not wiping the board clean. We’re flipping it.”For the first time in a long time, Jackson looks unsure. He shifts his weight, jaw tightening as he processes my words. “You said yourself—this
CHAPTER 217
The Final CrossroadsThe city hums beneath me, restless and alive. From this rooftop, I see everything—the neon glow stretching into the horizon, the winding streets below, the fractured heartbeat of a place that never stops moving. A world of light and shadow, built on secrets, power, and debts that can never truly be repaid.The air is thick with the scent of rain and asphalt, the faintest trace of gasoline lingering in the wind. It’s the smell of something on the verge of combustion, of a city always teetering on the edge of chaos. I tighten my grip on the cigarette between my fingers, watching the ember glow in the dark, a tiny heartbeat against the cold night. I don’t smoke. Not really. I just like the way it feels—holding something that’s burning, something that’s alive for just a little while before it fades into nothing.I should walk away.I should let it all burn.But I don’t.Because no matter how much I tell myself that I don’t care anymore, that none of it matters, the tr
CHAPTER 216
The Last Time He Sees RileyThe air is colder than I expected. Maybe that’s fitting. Maybe that’s how it’s supposed to be.She’s already there when I arrive, standing near the edge of the pier, arms folded tight against the wind. The city sprawls behind her, all light and noise, but out here, it’s just the quiet lapping of the water and the space between us.Riley doesn’t turn when I approach.“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” she says, her voice carrying over the water, calm but unreadable.I stop a few feet away. Close enough to feel the weight of her presence. Far enough to know I shouldn’t get any closer.“Neither was I,” I admit.She exhales a slow, steady breath. “You look the same.”“So do you.”A lie.There’s something different in her now. Something more guarded, more distant. Like she’s finally built the walls she should’ve had when we were younger.Like she’s learned.She turns, finally meeting my gaze, and for a moment, it’s just us. No past, no future. Just this one sliver of t
CHAPTER 215
The Fall of KingsThe thing about power is that it never learns.It moves through different hands, dresses itself in new suits, and speaks in fresh voices. But underneath, it’s always the same: greed, arrogance, and the inevitable mistake of thinking you can control what was never meant to be tamed.Ronan believed he could do it differently.I watch from the shadows as he proves himself wrong.---The city is quieter these days. Not because the storm has passed, but because it’s waiting to break.I see it in the way people move, the way deals are whispered instead of spoken. Ronan’s reign is still fresh, but already, the cracks are showing.And he doesn’t even realize it.Or maybe he does. Maybe he’s just too proud to admit it.I’m standing outside a high-rise downtown, watching from across the street. Up there, behind floor-to-ceiling windows, Ronan is playing king. A meeting’s in progress—his men, his allies, his problems.He thinks he has time. He thinks he’s in control.He doesn’t
CHAPTER 214
The Last WarningThe city breathes differently when men like Ronan step into power.It’s a slow shift, subtle. The same streets, the same lights flickering over cracked pavement, the same late-night murmurs of business and betrayal. But there’s a tension now, a new weight pressing down like the first signs of a storm.I know it because I’ve felt it before. I did it before.Which is why I know exactly how this ends.---I picked the place. Neutral ground. A quiet, high-end bar tucked away in the heart of the city, the kind where power plays out in whispered deals and expensive whiskey. A place where men like Ronan feel at home.I sit in a booth at the far end, back to the wall, watching the entrance. He’s late. Not long enough to be disrespectful, just enough to establish control. Classic move.When he finally steps inside, he moves like he owns the place.Not in the way Cormac did, with brute force and intimidation. No, Ronan is more refined. His presence doesn’t demand attention—it i
CHAPTER 213
The New ProtégéThe city doesn’t rest, and neither do the people hungry for its power.Cormac is gone. Locked away, his empire dismantled, his influence reduced to nothing but whispers in the dark. And yet, before the dust has even settled, another one steps forward. It always happens this way.A cycle. A curse.I watch from the rooftop as the meeting below unfolds. A dozen figures sit around a long table in a high-rise suite, their silhouettes blurred by tinted windows. But it’s the one at the head of the table that has my full attention.Young. Too young.Sharp suit, sharper eyes. He moves like he owns the room—because he does. The way they lean in when he speaks, the way they nod, hesitant but obedient. He’s already in control.He reminds me of someone.Me.I exhale slowly, pressing my earpiece. "Evelyn, you getting this?"Her voice crackles through. "Loud and clear. Looks like we found our new kingpin."I don’t respond right away, just watch as he steeples his fingers, listening i
CHAPTER 212
The War That Never EndsThe Oath had fallen, but the world didn’t change. Not really.Power is a living thing—it doesn’t disappear; it mutates. It slithers, molds itself into new hands, new faces, new kings and queens who claim they’ll do better. I watch from the shadows as history repeats itself, over and over, like a bad song stuck on a loop.I blend into the dimly lit alleyway, my coat pulled tight against the cold bite of the city. Rain drips from the rusted gutters, forming puddles at my feet, but I barely notice. Across the street, men shake hands under the glow of a flickering street lamp, sealing deals in the same way their predecessors did—with quiet, well-dressed ruthlessness. Different players, same game.I should walk away.I promised myself I would.But ghosts don’t rest easy, and the ones I carry are especially loud.A gust of wind blows through the alley, ruffling my hair as I step back into the shadows. My ribs still ache from my last fight, and my knuckles are a canva
