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I don’t feel like I’m standing on edge.
I feel… anchored.
But even as that settles—
That awareness doesn’t leave.
It sharpens.
Because now—
Now I have something to protect.
“He’s still coming,” I say quietly.
Logan doesn’t move away.
“No,” he says. “We’re going to him.”
I meet his eyes.
No hesitation.
No doubt.
“Together.”
His grip tightens slightly at my waist.
“Always.”
And this time—
It means more.
Because now it’s not just strategy.
It’s personal.
47
Sentinel
They’ve crossed the line.
Sentinel studies the feed in silence.
Not the operation.
Not the perimeter.
Them.
The shift is subtle to anyone else.
Microscopic.
But not to him.
