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“He’s repositioning.”
We move.
Fast.
Through the corridor.
Tighter space.
Limited visibility.
Dangerous.
Exactly how he wants it.
And then—
A figure steps out ahead.
Gun raised.
Not Sentinel.
Keller.
My body locks for half a second.
Not hesitation—
Recognition.
He looks different.
Not broken.
Not whole.
Something in between.
“Don’t,” he says.
His voice isn’t steady.
But it’s not gone either.
“Keller,” Logan says, controlled. “Move.”
Keller’s grip tightens.
“I can’t.”
A beat.
“They said—”
“They lied,” I cut in.
His eyes flick to me.
