Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 80431 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80431 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Zorion didn’t conceal his scowl.
“Everything will be explained to you in due course.”
His glare must’ve seared her because she suddenly looked guilty and her eyes filled with tears.
“Zorion. I know the actions taken by the director were wrong, immoral, and most of all illegal.”
He cocked his head to the side.
“But you heard what happened when we tried to refute him or threatened to go to the authorities.”
Zorion remembered hearing arguments, a lone gunshot, and cries of fear.
“I have a family,” she whimpered. “I had no choice but to comply. But I swear on my daughters’ lives I did the best I could. I made you both stronger, more acute, aware, and gave you more unique abilities than all the Ravens.”
“Ravens?” Zorion croaked. “Both?”
Her eyes widened. “I’ve already said too much. But if you trust nothing else, trust that you will be treated better than good. You’ll be given the utmost respect, and your well-being will remain my team’s top priority. You were chosen because of your strength. Trust in yourself.”
He was the only person he’d trust for the rest of his days.
“You will not just be a weapon, Zorion. You’re going to be a man of great importance and honor one day, something I believe you’ve strived toward all your life.”
She was almost out of the door when she turned and added, “I ask for your forgiveness, Zorion, and I hope one day you’ll give it.” Her tears fell. “I vow to make amends before he considers me too much of a liability and takes my life.”
And with that final statement, she left.
Chief Aiken Oakley
Valor
Valor kept the green hood low over his face, the fabric hiding his eyes as he moved with measured steps down the dark corridor.
His footsteps were silent, his breath quiet and measured. He was cataloging every inch of the space he had access to.
Armed guards were stationed at various points, eyes fixed straight ahead. As he approached and passed, they didn’t look left or right.
There were no exit signs, which meant he wouldn’t be allowed access to any door leading outside. The walls were fortified and flawless, impossible to destroy without demolition equipment.
Every entrance required a key card, every floor accessible only by a controlled elevator system. Each level required a different clearance swipe of his key card for him to move semi-freely.
Next on his tour was the gym, a wonder of modern technology. It wasn’t a mere gym. It was a superhuman training ground.
A speed lane surrounded combat rings that awaited duels he saw coming. Heavy bags hung from steel beams while racks of combat tools and firearms were locked inside plexiglass cabinets.
Through another door was an Olympic-sized pool. He knelt and dipped his hand into the warm water, and it felt nice…but he’d pass.
Valor liked the entertainment room. It was an odd contrast to the rest of the facility with its plush recliners, big wall-mounted flat screens, and a vast library of films and books. He spent a couple of hours watching one world news station after another. Each disaster and terrorist attack worse than the last.
What is happening in the world?
It wasn’t until his stomach rumbled that he searched for the aforementioned cafeteria.
It took twenty minutes but he found the dining hall simply labeled Greens Dining Hall.
He used his key card and went through the double doors.
Valor almost laughed at yet another indoor garden. It wasn’t a huge hall, but it was big enough for three tables nestled within live plants and herbs climbing high trellises. He shook his head in disbelief as he walked the cobblestone path that led to the patio.
“Your dinner is almost ready, sir,” a soft-spoken lady said from behind him.
He’d known she was there but had also known she wasn’t a threat.
“Will you be dining outside?”
He sighed. “Yes.”
Valor closed his eyes and took a deep inhale of fresh air. It was nice, but he wasn’t fooled by this over-the-top display of opulence.
They wanted him to believe they’d done him a favor by taking him from whatever life he’d had—he didn’t care if he’d shaken his ass for cash every Friday night if that had been his choice—and gave him all of this.
They could fucking keep it. He wanted out of there.
Chief Styles Sawyer
Zorion
Zorion gaped at the layout of the bathroom.
To the left was a deep marble tub partially surrounded by a stone wall. It was partially sunken into the floor with lush ferns and exotic plants lining the perimeter, and bathed in natural sunlight from the glass ceiling. He couldn’t resist stripping down and stepping beneath the rainfall shower right then. Eyeing the keypad, he saw the water could be adjusted to mimic cooling mist or jungle rain.
Zorion stared at the water running down the defined ridges of his chest and abdomen. His muscles stood out in stark definition. He didn’t think he’d been this ripped before the serums. He traced the washrag over his forearms, noting the protruding cords and strength pulsing under his skin.