"Congratulations, Arkan, you passed the audition with perfect scores. Now, let us begin stage two." Captain Varro’s voice, amplified by the rig’s internal comms, still echoed in the vast technical block. Arkan felt the words, not as a compliment, but as a brand, marking him as their property, their prize. He stood amidst the humming workstations, the sterile air thick with the scent of ozone and synthetic oils, his mind already racing, dissecting the rig’s architecture, searching for an opening.
This wasn't a prison. It was a weapon. And Arkan, Subject Zero, was now standing inside the trigger mechanism.
He watched the PMC guards, their movements precise, their weapons glinting under the harsh fluorescent lights. Everywhere he looked, surveillance drones buzzed, their optical sensors swe
