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Too late.
This—
This isn’t the trap.
This is just the first layer.
The gunfire stops.
Just as suddenly as it started.
Silence drops back in.
Heavy.
Wrong.
And then—
A voice.
Not close.
Not far.
Controlled.
Broadcast.
“You adapted well.”
My blood runs cold.
Not fear.
Recognition.
Sentinel. That bastard!
“You moved as a unit,” the voice continues.
A pause.
“But even units… can be redirected.”
I lock my gaze on Logan.
He’s already looking at me.
Still there.
Still with me.
Even now.
Good.
Because we’re going to need that.
