Heavy.
Anticipatory.
Because this isn’t a test anymore.
This is execution.
“When?” the man asks.
Sentinel’s eyes narrow slightly.
“They’re already moving,” he says.
A beat.
“And they don’t even know it.”
He reaches forward.
Shuts the feed off.
Darkness.
Final.
“Prepare for contact.”
48
Scout
Something shifts.
It’s small.
So small most people wouldn’t notice it.
The air feels the same.
The perimeter hasn’t changed.
The team is moving exactly how they should.
Everything is right.
Which means—
Something isn’t.
I feel it low in my chest, a slow, tightening pull that doesn’t spike into alarm. It doesn’t shout.
Itwaits.
That’s what makes it dangerous.
I step just outside the doorway, scanning the tree line again. The same shadows. The same angles. The same quiet.
Too quiet.
