The cold metal floor beneath Nam was unforgiving, its icy touch seeping through his clothes as he lay there in the dim, oppressive darkness. His wrists were sore from the tight shackles that bound them, his head still fuzzy from the tranquilizer. His thoughts were fragmented, racing in different directions, but one thing remained clear: he had to get out of here.
The silence of the underground cell was suffocating, broken only by the sound of distant machinery and the occasional drip of water from somewhere deep within the facility. Nam's mind was sharp, despite the drug still clouding his senses. He knew he couldn't afford to panic—not now, not when everything was at stake.
Suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoed down the corridor, growing louder with each passing second. His heart raced, adrenaline flooding his system as he instinctively pulled against the restraints. It was the woman again. But why hadn't she just left him alone to rot?
The door creaked open, and the woman entered, her silhouette framed by the harsh light from the hallway. She looked down at him with that same emotionless expression, her eyes calculating, as though she were studying him like some kind of puzzle.
"Still alive, I see," she said, her voice cool and detached. "I thought the tranquilizer would keep you down longer. Guess I underestimated your resilience."
Nam's eyes narrowed as he gathered what little strength he had left. "Why are you doing this? What do you want from me?"
The woman smirked, a trace of amusement in her gaze. "You really don't understand, do you? This isn't about you, Nam. This is about power. Control. We have everything we need, but you... you're the missing piece."
Nam didn't respond immediately, his mind working through the cryptic words she had just spoken. Missing piece? What was she talking about? His eyes searched the room, taking in every detail, looking for any weakness, any opportunity to escape.
But before he could think further, the woman reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a small, sleek device—a remote of some sort. She held it up and pressed a button, and suddenly, the chains binding Nam's hands retracted, loosening their grip. His arms fell to his sides, though they still felt weak from the restraints.
"Don't think this is an act of kindness," she said with a laugh. "It's simply because I want to see what you can do when you're not bound like a helpless animal."
Nam immediately moved his hands, flexing his fingers as circulation returned to his limbs. He had to act fast. He knew that even if he couldn't defeat her now, this was his chance to escape. His body may be weak, but his mind was clear.
"You're wasting your time," he said, looking her square in the eyes. "I'll never help you. I won't be your pawn."
She tilted her head slightly, as if she hadn't expected such defiance. "You don't have a choice. You can't escape, not from this place. And as for the people you care about? They're already in our hands. Your fight is over."
The words hit Nam like a punch to the gut. His thoughts immediately turned to those he'd left behind. His allies, his friends, his team—they were all vulnerable now. Kai's betrayal had cut deeper than he had ever imagined, but now, it was clear: he couldn't trust anyone, not even the people he thought he could rely on.
"No," he muttered under his breath, his determination growing stronger. "This isn't over. You don't get to decide when I stop fighting."
For a moment, the woman seemed to consider his words. Then, with a soft chuckle, she turned to leave. "Keep thinking that, Nam. It'll make your eventual failure all the more entertaining."
As she stepped out the door, locking it behind her, Nam was left alone once more. But now, there was a fire in his chest. He wasn't going to sit here waiting for an inevitable death. No, he was going to fight. He was going to find a way out.
The device. It was still there. He had seen it clearly in her hand, and he had seen the way her fingers danced over it with practiced ease. That remote—it could be his ticket out.
His eyes locked on the floor, searching for anything he could use. The cell was sparsely furnished—just a cot, a small table, and a sink. But then, his gaze fell upon a small gap in the wall, barely visible in the shadows. It was small, but big enough for him to slip through if he could just get close enough.
He could feel the blood rushing to his head now, his body responding with more strength. The tranquilizer was wearing off, and his mind was racing with a plan. He had to be patient, to wait for the perfect moment.
But soon, he knew, the moment would come.
Hours passed in a blur. Nam remained still, watching, waiting, calculating his next move. The time was right. He knew the guards would make their rounds soon—he had heard their footsteps earlier. He had only one chance at this.
With a quiet, focused determination, Nam slipped toward the gap in the wall. His hands moved quickly, deftly working to untie the loose knot that kept the cot bolted to the ground. With a quick motion, he yanked the cot away, revealing a narrow opening. He could just make it through.
He glanced at the door one last time before squeezing his body into the gap and crawling forward.
No turning back now.