Cold metal restraints locked my wrists in place.
The air reeked of disinfectant—sharp, sterile, and heavy with the solemn finality of an ending carefully prepared.
A man in a white coat adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses and read my charges in a flat, indifferent tone.
"Treason.""Leak of classified information.""Death penalty."
I didn't listen.
My eyes were fixed on the syringe resting in the metal tray behind him.
Clear liquid filled the barrel, reflecting a merciless white glare under the operating lights.
"Jack Kane," he asked calmly, as if checking a box, "do you have any last words?"
I twitched the corner of my mouth but said nothing.
Last words?
Someone else would be speaking them for me soon enough.
He didn't wait for an answer. He didn't care. With a slight nod, he signaled the nurse beside him.
"Proceed."
The needle slid into the vein of my arm.
There was no pain—only a spreading cold that raced through my bloodstream, creeping into every corner of my body.
They called it euthanasia.
Such a gentle word.
In truth, it was a consciousness-stripping agent—a compound designed to erase the human mind completely, leaving behind nothing but a warm, breathing shell.
My eyelids grew heavy.
On the heart monitor, the once-lively waveform weakened… then flattened into a single, endless line.
A sharp, piercing tone filled the room.
"Target's vital signs have ceased. Death confirmed."
I heard someone recording the result.
The world dissolved into darkness.
But I didn't die.
When they believed my consciousness had vanished into nothingness, I had never been more awake.
My name is Jack Kane.
Former operative of the Ghost Special Forces—top tier, even among elites.
I had undergone the most extreme form of training known as Consciousness Bastion.
Total isolation.Mental fortification.Defense against psychological invasion and collapse.
My instructor once said:The human mind is the final battlefield.
That battlefield had just opened.
Deep within my own consciousness, I constructed an unbreakable fortress, sealing the core of who I was inside it.
Control over my body was stripped away. My senses were cut off.
Yet I remained—like a specter—watching everything done to my flesh.
I felt the restraints being released.
My body was lifted, placed onto a cold mobile gurney.
The wheels rolled forward, vibration after vibration.
Muted voices drifted in.
"Vital signs stable. Ready for transfer."
"Hurry. Mr. Wieland doesn't have much time left."
Wieland.
Alex Wieland.
The technological emperor standing at the pinnacle of global wealth.
And the man who had purchased this body—my body—as his vessel.
They pushed me into a brighter, colder chamber.
The stench of antiseptic was overwhelming.
A sterile transfer pod.
I didn't need to see it to know.
They would open my skull, wipe my mind clean like formatting a hard drive, and upload Alex Wieland's consciousness in its place.
A dying billionaire reborn.A younger body.A second life.
And me?
A framed death-row inmate—erased completely.
A flawless plan.
Except for one miscalculation.
This prison was never empty.
Its true owner was already inside, gripping the key, waiting in the dark for his new cellmate.
What they injected into me wasn't death.
It was a ticket.
A first-class ticket—straight into the heart of my enemy.