The kind that carries weight.
“So we increase pressure?” the man suggests.
Sentinel turns slowly.
“No.”
Calm.
Certain.
“If you increase pressure, they reinforce.”
A step closer to the screen.
Measured.
“They just proved that.”
The man shifts, uncertain now. “Then what’s the move?”
Sentinel’s gaze returns to the image.
To Scout.
To the way she stands now—more open than before.
More present.
Still controlled.
But not closed.
That change matters.
It tells him exactly where she is in the process.
Not retreating.
Not yet stable.
Balanced.
That’s where the fault line lives.
“You don’t attack a structure that’s reinforcing,” Sentinel says quietly.
A beat.
“You destabilize the ground beneath it.”
The man stills.
Understanding creeping in.
“Something external,” he says.
Sentinel doesn’t answer.
