Shadow’POV:

I left blood on the restraints as I freed myself. One final glance at the sterile white room where they’d planned to extract my DNA, then dispose of me like trash. Ironic that they thought mere sedatives and chains could hold me—me, the person they’d trained to escape from any containment.

I moved silently through the corridor, dispatching guards with methodical precision. Snapped neck. Severed carotid. Crushed windpipe. I varied my killing methods out of professional habit. Some died without even realizing I was there, their bodies slumping noiselessly to the floor.

I could hear the panic spreading through the facility’s communication system.

“Shadow is gone!” A technician’s voice cracked with fear. “How the fuck is that possible? She was sedated with enough drugs to kill an elephant!”

I allowed myself a small, cold smile. They never understood what they’d created in me. Thirteen years of their most brutal training had taught me to metabolize toxins, ignore pain, and function at peak capacity under impossible conditions.

The security chief’s voice came next: “All units, priority one alert! Subject Shadow has escaped containment. Find her immediately!”

I slipped into the ventilation system, moving toward the lower levels. My plan was already in motion. They wanted to destroy me? Fine. But I’d make sure I took the entire island—and all evidence of their experiments—with me.

From my hidden position, I listened to the facility director giving orders.

“Activate all island security protocols. Prepare the directed demolition system. Nothing—and I mean nothing—can leave this island.”

Nothing will leave this island, I silently agreed. Including you.

I dropped down into the utility level, quickly disabling the guards stationed there. They never even had time to radio for help. Moving to the backup generator room, I methodically broke the safety locks on the diesel storage tanks. The rich, acrid smell of fuel filled the air as it began pooling across the floor, flowing through drainage channels to the lower levels.

Next stop: the research wing. I wanted Dr. Sanders. The man who had strapped me down, who had spoken so casually about harvesting my genetic material before “terminating the source material”—as if I were nothing more than a lab specimen.

I found him trying to destroy research files. He didn’t hear me enter.

“Hello, Doctor,” I whispered against his ear.

His scream was brief.

I made my way toward the monitoring room, Dr. Sanders’ head gripped by the hair in my left hand. Blood dripped down my arm, but I didn’t care. I wanted them to see him. I wanted them to know what was coming.

A precisely placed explosive charge—one I’d assembled from materials in the security office—blew the reinforced door off its hinges. Through the smoke and debris, I walked calmly into the room where the facility’s leadership had gathered.

I saw the horror on their faces as I entered. The research head clutched a hard drive—my genetic data, no doubt. The director reached slowly for the black remote detonator I knew he carried.

“You can’t escape, Shadow,” he said, his voice steadier than his trembling fingers. “This entire facility is rigged with directed explosives. One push, and this all ends.”

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