Project I.g.i. Now

I dive through the emergency exit as the blast collapses the tunnel behind me. Dirt and smoke fill the air. For a moment, silence again.

“Control, this is Jones. Package delivered. Coming home.” Project I.G.I.

The rain stopped three minutes ago. Now, only the rhythmic drip from the rusted watchtower breaks the silence. I check the P226—magazine seated, round chambered. No HUD. No crosshair. No minimap. Just me, the cold, and the hum of high-voltage lines feeding the main bunker. I dive through the emergency exit as the

I reach the ventilation shaft. Cut the grate. Drop inside. silence again. “Control