What he didn’t realize—
Was that Scout Fallon had just taught me how to corner him?
And I was done playing defense.
8
Scout
They didn’t hurt me.
That was the test.
They changed the room instead.
When the lights came back on, the white was gone—replaced by gray concrete, unfinished walls, and a ceiling low enough to feel intentional. The air was cooler. Drier. No hum now. No background rhythm.
Disorientation without violence.
I adjusted my breathing immediately.
Sentinel was watching to see if I noticed.
The door opened.
Two guards this time. Different men. Different posture. Both alert.
Sentinel followed.
“You forced a relocation,” he said calmly, as if commenting on the weather. “That was… inefficient of you.”
I looked around slowly. Took in the seams. The new acoustics. The absence of medical-grade lighting.
“You wanted me unsettled,” I said. “Instead, you downgraded your facility.”
His gaze sharpened.
“You assume that matters.”
“It does if you’re trying to impress me,” I replied evenly.
He studied me for a long moment.
Then he gestured toward the far wall.
A screen flickered to life.
Logan.
Not live.
Recorded.
But recent.
He was moving through a staging area, issuing orders with quiet authority. His posture is tight. His eyes locked forward.
I had only met him once, so I knew who he was. I didn’t react.
