During his rapid approach toward the towering walls of the New York State Prison, Nathan smoothly shifted his breathing pattern, entering a state of silent infiltration. His entire presence faded into the night air. Even the sound of wind slicing past his body vanished, muffled by his advanced stealth technique.
Gliding like a ghost, he landed silently atop the guard passage that ran along the outer wall.
As expected of a maximum-security prison, the defenses here were brutal. Searchlights crisscrossed the yard, while watchtowers stood at regular intervals—each manned by heavily armed guards. Below, patrol teams roamed the prison grounds. Their job was not only to stop escape attempts—but also to prevent infiltrators like him.
Just as Nathan landed, a massive searchlight swung in his direction.
"Too many lights," he muttered under his breath, quickly raising his arm.
Whoosh! A web shot out, anchoring to the top of the closest tower.
With surgical precision, Nathan launched himself over the light beam, landing silently behind the structure.
The searchlight swept across the front of the tower but caught nothing.
Below, two guards stood chatting.
"Thought I saw something just now," one muttered, squinting toward where Nathan had been.
His partner shook his head. "You're jumpy. This is the New York State Prison. Who's dumb enough to try sneaking in here?"
"Keep your eyes open. These inmates aren't a joke," the first said. "We lose our jobs, whatever. But our lives? That's a different matter."
Unbeknownst to them, Nathan hung just above their heads, climbing stealthily across the tip of the tower.
From this vantage, he observed the prison below: low gray buildings, flat red roofs, long rows of staff dormitories, guard stations, and fenced exercise yards.
Nothing looked like a laboratory.
Kurt's intel had only confirmed its presence deep inside—but not the exact location.
He'd have to find someone who knew.
Not the active guards—they reported frequently in groups. Too risky. He needed someone resting, unaware, and alone.
Nathan committed the entire layout of the prison to memory, carefully watching the rhythm of the searchlights, patrol intervals, and guard patterns.
With every pass of the sweeping beams, he logged new data—entry points, dark zones, and blind spots.
Soon, an exact replica of the prison formed in his mind. He calculated multiple possible routes.
Then, from one of the calculated blind spots, Nathan dropped silently onto the ground.
He moved quickly.
Among the low-rise buildings, two appeared slightly more refined. These had cleaner facades, slightly better lighting—clearly staff dormitories.
Nathan scaled a nearby wall and peered inside.
Each room was occupied by just one person, with guard uniforms hung neatly. These were clearly living quarters for prison staff.
Perfect.
He waited for a hallway camera to rotate away, then dashed forward.
From his suit, he pulled a USB device—a custom creation. It could hack and loop local surveillance footage, while also gaining access to the prison's internal network.
The light blinked red as he plugged it into a hallway camera.
Moments later—green.
Nathan checked his custom phone.
He now had access to the prison's entire surveillance system.
Inside the hallway, shoes were lined neatly by each door.
Patrol guards' shoes were more worn—scuffed and stained by outdoor mud. That told him exactly which rooms to check.
He selected one.
Quietly picking the lock, he entered.
A middle-aged guard lay sprawled across the bed, snoring like a thunderstorm.
Nathan drew his pistol and pressed the cold muzzle to the man's forehead.
Nothing.
He nudged the man.
Still asleep.
Then came the mumbling, "Mm… the one with big boobs… mmm…"
Nathan's face went blank.
SMACK.
The slap echoed. The guard jerked awake.
His eyes opened—and stared down the barrel of a gun.
"Answer quietly," Nathan said coldly. "Scream and you die."
The man nodded frantically.
"Where's the prison lab?"
The guard shook his head. "No lab! Just the gym, yard, workshop—nothing else, I swear!"
"Any hidden areas?" Nathan pressed.
The man replied quickly, "Not in my zone. I patrol the outer perimeter. The core zone is handled by another team."
"Who exactly?"
"Dorm 123, across the corridor."
Nathan nodded and knocked the man unconscious.
He crept down the hall, bypassed two doors, and picked the lock on Dorm 123.
Inside was a younger guard.
Same method. Gun. Questions.
This time, jackpot.
"There is one strange area," the man admitted nervously. "The warden's residence."
"It's off-limits. No patrols allowed. It's guarded, but… no one's supposed to go near it."
Nathan's eyes gleamed.
He got the address, knocked the man out, and exited swiftly.
Before long, he stood in front of a three-story villa, isolated from the rest of the compound.
This was no ordinary housing unit.
Cameras covered every angle. Armed soldiers—not guards—stood watch. They wore military uniforms and carried automatic rifles.
"These aren't prison staff… they're trained military. This must be it," Nathan whispered.
He noticed patrols only covered the ground floor.
That meant the lab was likely underground or on the ground floor.
Nathan tapped his phone.
Surveillance systems in this zone: disabled.
But the warden's building ran on a separate internal network. Remote access was impossible.
He sprinted across open space, dodging between lights and soldiers.
Once inside, he located the control center.
He plugged in another USB device.
Now he had local access.
Dozens of camera feeds blinked on his screen.
He found it.
A sprawling lab underground—bright, sterile, with multiple chambers. Monitors, glass tubes, surgical tools. One bored-looking scientist was on duty.
Nathan noted something interesting: a person in civilian clothes entered a nearby storage room. Minutes later, he reappeared inside the lab—now wearing a lab coat.
"The entrance is in the storage room," Nathan realized.
He quickly exited the control room and slipped into the storage area.
A minute later—
DING.
A hidden elevator door opened.
A woman stepped out, humming.
Nathan jumped onto the roof of the elevator before the doors shut.
He hit the basement button and lay flat as the elevator descended.
When it returned upstairs seconds later, the on-duty worker glanced up, expecting the woman had returned for a forgotten item.
No one there.
He shrugged and looked back at his phone.
He didn't notice the figure sliding out from the elevator roof and landing silently behind him.
A gust of wind touched his neck.
He turned—
Only to see a black-suited man with a mask and a gun pointed at his forehead.
He reached for the alarm, but a web shot out, sticking his hand to the table.
"Make a sound and I pull the trigger," Nathan said coldly.
"The Super Soldier Program—was this where a prisoner named Carl got powers?"
The man nodded quickly, terror in his eyes.
Nathan smiled.
Finally, he had found the source.
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