The Mark: Redemption May 2026

As the hum of black-clad mercenaries’ drones grew louder, Chad didn't run. He knew Turk would never stop. The redemption he sought wouldn't be found in a hidden bunker or a flight to another continent. It would be found in a stand—protecting the technology from those who would use it to enslave the survivors, and perhaps, in the process, finally listening to the echoes of the faith he had left behind.

In the sweltering heat of Bangkok, the world had fractured. Above, the sky was a bruised purple, scarred by the sudden disappearance of millions during the Rapture. On the ground, Chad Turner—an ex-special forces agent—felt the steady, rhythmic pulse in his forearm where the "Mark" had been forcibly implanted. The Mark: Redemption

"They're coming," Dao whispered, her voice barely audible over the distant sirens and the crackle of fires left untended. As the hum of black-clad mercenaries’ drones grew