Chapter 1
Before the execution, I asked for a glass of water.
The officer handed it over impatiently. I made a show of drinking slowly, taking a sip after a sip.
On the fourth sip, I deliberately lifted the tip of my tongue, exposing the tattoo I'd kept hidden for fifteen years.
It was the identification code my captain had personally etched onto me all those years ago.
Just as I expected, the officer's face twisted in shock.
"Stop the execution!" he shouted, his voice booming through the execution chamber.
For fifteen years, I lived undercover as a drug dealer, forced to watch helplessly as my comrades died one after another.
In my final moments, someone finally saw who I really was.
I smiled, but the tears kept streaming down my face.
*****
Before the execution, I asked for a glass of water.
The officer handed it over impatiently.
I made a show of drinking slowly, taking a sip after a sip.
On the fourth sip, I deliberately lifted the tip of my tongue, exposing the tattoo I'd kept hidden for fifteen years.
It was a tiny sword, its blade dripping with blood.
On the blade, two numbers were engraved: 07.
That was the identification code my captain himself marked me with all those years ago.
Blade-07. It was my codename and the name carved on my grave.
Just as I expected, the officer's face twisted in shock.
His pupils shrank, eyes wide with shock.
His hand gripping the gun shook uncontrollably.
He wasn't just impatient.
He was tense. He was nervous to the core.
He was recognizing it.
The moment he saw the tattoo, his breath stopped.
His face was left with nothing but shock and disbelief.
"Stop the execution!" His voice exploded through the empty execution chamber, sharp and cracked with panic.
Everyone stood frozen in shock.
The executioner frowned, about to snap at him.
But the young guard had already rushed over to me in a flash.
He locked his gaze on the tip of my tongue, his lips trembling as if he were uttering a sacred name. "Blade..."
"07," I spoke the rest for him.
My voice rasped like sandpaper.
For fifteen years.
I lived under the name "Karson", a drug dealer.
I watched as my handler was silenced.
I watched my contact get dismembered.
I watched my best friend, codename Blade-03, burn alive in a car to protect me.
I could only watch it all unfold, powerless to stop any of it.
There was nothing I could do because, in their eyes, I was just a drug dealer, a monster everyone wanted to see dead.
I couldn't even let myself cry for them.
Branded as a villain by everyone, I clawed my way through the darkness for whole 15 years.
My records were wiped clean.
They acted like I never existed.
I became the phantom, disguised as a drug dealer, waiting for my final judgment.
At last, in the very final moments of my life when a bullet was about to put an end to this madness, someone finally saw who I really was.
A smile tugged at my lips.
The tears streamed down my face, unstoppable.
The last mouthful of water mixed with my tears tasted nothing but a salty sting.
The young guard's eyes were rimmed with tears.
He snapped to attention, then saluted me with flawless precision, even though I was just a condemned prisoner in shackles.
His voice trembled, but it echoed through the chamber.
"This is Ryan Lawrence from the Blade Special Task Force!"
"Salute, sir!"
Silence blanketed the execution chamber.
Everyone was left speechless, utterly floored by the surreal scene unfolding before them.
I looked at him.
Ryan Lawrence...
It all came back to me.
Fifteen years ago, he was just a fresh-faced rookie straight out of the academy.
He used to trail behind the captain, Jack Carter, eyes full of admiration and innocence.
I never thought he'd still be alive, and he still remembered me.
He remembered the squad that had been struck from the books, buried and forgotten by everyone.
He remembered the Blade identification code.
It was worth it.
I closed my eyes, feeling all the strength drain out of me.
Fifteen years of pretending, of holding myself together came crashing down in that moment.
I heard Ryan shouting, his voice full of urgency.
The room exploded with frantic footsteps and shouted orders all around me.
My execution was halted.
I was yanked back from the brink of death.
But not a shred of joy reached me.
There was only the bone-deep exhaustion and a cold emptiness that swallowed everything else.
Captain Carter, my fellow brothers, did you see that?
Someone out there still remembered us.
I was hurried out of the execution chamber.
My old handcuffs and shackles were swapped for high-tech electronic restraints.
A black hood was pulled over my head.
I was shoved into a sealed armored van.
The armored van hurtled forward.
I had no idea where they were taking me.
But one thing was certain—my execution had been postponed.
And a storm that had been locked away for fifteen years was about to erupt once more.
I was Kevin Knight, my codename Blade-07.
I couldn't die yet because my fallen brothers were still waiting for me to give them an answer.
The traitor who betrayed us and sent us into hell was still out there, waiting for me to drag him out.