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Chapter 12 — The Shadow Raised to Hunt

  Chapter 12 — The Shadow Raised to Hunt

  Teva Tech Underground Prison

  Static electricity hissed along the metal walls.

  The corridor sank deep beneath the earth, level after level, until the light from above barely existed anymore—just a dull memory clinging to steel.

  Iron Shade soldiers stood guard every five meters.

  None of them spoke.

  None of them made eye contact.

  Because they all knew—

  In a few seconds, the devil of this place would arrive.

  Heavy boots echoed down the stairs.

  Thud.

  Thud.

  Thud.

  A tall figure emerged from the darkness, clad in black-and-red armor.

  The overhead lights caught the edge of his spear—its blade gleaming like fresh blood.

  Marcus.

  He didn’t look at the soldiers.

  He didn’t say a word.

  Yet every man along the corridor unconsciously held their breath as he passed.

  Three reinforced steel doors stood in a row.

  Dr. Amporn.

  Tatt.

  Ray.

  Each cell sealed with thick lead plating—designed to suppress every known form of mineral-based power.

  Marcus stopped.

  His gaze lifted, moving from door to door, deliberate and unhurried.

  Then he spoke—low, precise.

  Marcus:

  “Let’s begin… with the one who dared to challenge me first.”

  The lights flickered violently.

  And he shoved open the first door.

  ?

  Interrogation Room: Dr. Amporn

  A single bulb illuminated the room.

  A steel table sat beneath it, cold enough for condensation to form along its surface.

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  Dr. Amporn sat upright, wrists bound—yet his expression showed not a trace of surrender.

  Marcus stepped inside.

  He placed his spear onto the table.

  Clang.

  The sound was sharp. Final.

  Like metal slicing through bone.

  Marcus:

  “No need to pretend, Amporn.”

  “I’ve seen it. The Hope Cheetar suit.”

  He didn’t answer.

  Instead, Dr. Amporn met Marcus’ gaze head-on, refusing to let even a fragment of fear slip through.

  Marcus leaned closer, his shadow swallowing him whole.

  Marcus:

  “The high-grade mineral that disappeared…”

  “…it’s inside the child now, isn’t it?”

  The words struck like a hammer against the heart.

  Marcus began to circle him slowly.

  A predator pacing its prey.

  Marcus:

  “I’ll ask only once.”

  “How far have you trained him?”

  Dr. Amporn answered immediately—steady, unwavering.

  Dr. Amporn:

  “Far enough…”

  “…to stop you—on the day you grow careless.”

  Marcus’ lips curved upward.

  Not a smile.

  A baring of fangs.

  Marcus:

  “Good.”

  “Then I won’t let him grow slowly anymore.”

  He lifted the spear from the table and aimed it at Dr. Amporn’s throat.

  The blade stopped less than a centimeter from his skin.

  Marcus:

  “His father chose him to be Perfect.”

  “This was never chance.”

  Marcus turned and walked out.

  The door slammed shut.

  BOOM.

  Leaving Dr. Amporn alone in the dark.

  ?

  Interrogation Room: Tatt

  This room was colder.

  Tatt sat trembling, his breathing uneven.

  The pale pink of his abrasions hadn’t fully dried.

  Marcus entered without a word.

  He dragged a chair across the floor and sat directly across from him.

  His eyes pierced the darkness effortlessly.

  Marcus:

  “You’re good.”

  Tatt stiffened.

  Marcus leaned back slightly, studying him with open interest now—not irritation.

  Marcus:

  “Good enough to hack my system.”

  “And good enough to pull Three out of a simulated world—”

  Marcus’ eyes narrowed, amused.

  Marcus:

  “—using Zero’s voice box.”

  Tatt’s breath caught.

  Silence stretched.

  Marcus smiled thinly.

  Marcus:

  “The Americans did something right for once.”

  “That Zero kid… not bad at all.”

  He tilted his head.

  Marcus:

  “An American and a Thai.”

  “First-generation Perfects.”

  “Bonded early… trained together… trusted each other enough to break my system.”

  Tatt clenched his fists.

  He didn’t deny it.

  Marcus chuckled softly.

  Not mocking.

  Interested.

  Marcus:

  “You know what that tells me, Tatt?”

  He leaned forward.

  Marcus:

  “You don’t just follow orders.”

  “You think.”

  “And you act.”

  Tatt swallowed hard.

  Marcus:

  “That makes you dangerous.”

  A pause.

  Then—

  Marcus:

  “And useful.”

  Marcus stood and turned slightly, as if the decision had already been made.

  Marcus:

  “I don’t care who you’re loyal to.”

  “Zero.”

  “America.”

  “Or that boy you helped escape.”

  He looked back over his shoulder.

  Marcus:

  “What matters is this—”

  “When I decide to use you again…”

  “…you’ll be ready.”

  He pressed a button.

  Iron Shade soldiers rushed in and seized Tatt.

  As they dragged him away, Marcus spoke one last time—calm, deliberate.

  Marcus:

  “Don’t die yet, Tatt.”

  “I’d hate to lose talent like yours before we work together.”

  Bang.

  ?

  Interrogation Room: Ray

  This room was different.

  No chains.

  No spotlight.

  No restraints.

  It looked more like a meeting room than a prison cell.

  Ray—a high-ranking Perfect—sat calmly.

  No fear.

  No tension.

  As if he had already accepted the role he was meant to play.

  The door opened.

  Marcus entered.

  Their eyes locked instantly.

  No threats.

  No interrogation.

  Their relationship existed above such things.

  Marcus sat down, leaned his spear against the wall, and spoke like a man who already knew every answer.

  Marcus:

  “Ray.”

  “Who did Theer escape with?”

  Ray exhaled lightly before answering.

  Ray:

  “How would I know?”

  “Iron Shade grabbed me with the others.”

  “Theer jumped into the river and vanished.”

  A brief pause.

  His gaze was clear—unreadable.

  Marcus studied him for a long moment.

  Then smiled.

  The smile of a man rearranging the board.

  Marcus:

  “Good.”

  “I want you not knowing.”

  Ray raised an eyebrow—but didn’t question it.

  Marcus leaned in, voice low and commanding.

  Marcus:

  “There’s only one person who knows where that boy went.”

  Ray:

  “…Dr. Amporn?”

  Marcus smiled like a wolf catching scent.

  Marcus:

  “Exactly.”

  “And if we want Theer…”

  “We’ll have Amporn lead you straight to him.”

  Understanding flashed instantly in Ray’s eyes.

  A faint grin touched the corner of his mouth.

  Ray:

  “You want me to break out…”

  “Right in front of them?”

  Marcus stood, lifting his spear onto his shoulder.

  Marcus:

  “Yes.”

  “A prison break Iron Shade can’t keep up with.”

  “Run. Lead them away. Find the truth for me.”

  He stepped to the door and closed it gently.

  Click.

  No lock.

  No bolts.

  No security seal.

  As if it had been left open on purpose—for the one man he trusted to do this dirty work.

  Ray stared at the door.

  Then looked to the corner of the room.

  His equipment case.

  Untouched.

  Complete.

  Carefully arranged.

  A gift.

  Ray smiled.

  The smile of an actor stepping onto the grandest stage of his career.

  Ray:

  “Understood… sir.”

  He rose slowly, unfastened restraints that had been left unlocked, and equipped his gear piece by piece.

  Marcus’ voice drifted through the sealed door—final, deliberate.

  Marcus (from beyond):

  “Go bait the prey for me, Ray.”

  “We’re going to find him.”

  Ray lifted his gaze.

  His breathing steadied—like a killer preparing himself.

  Then he opened the unlocked door—

  and set into motion a fake prison break

  that would shatter the balance of the game.

  ?

  Fade out.

  ?

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