The elevator doors opened with a mechanical hiss, revealing a corridor lined with empty containment cells.
Kane's heart hammered as the guards dragged him toward an open cell door, the suppression field already humming to life.
"Cell seven-alpha," one guard muttered into his radio. "Package delivery."
Kane tested his restraints one more time, feeling the resonance bindings pulse against his wrists.
Professional grade, designed to disrupt spirit energy and prevent shapeshifting.
But they'd made one crucial mistake.
His fingers found the small BSA standard-issue resonance disruptor—every field agent carried one, disguised as a shirt button or collar stay.
Kane had palmed it during the initial capture, muscle memory kicking in even through his panic.
"In you go, fox," the first guard grunted, shoving Kane toward the cell.
Kane activated the disruptor.
