Font Size:
Wider.
Cleaner.
Prepared.
Sentinel stands at the far end.
Waiting.
Of course he is.
“You removed the variable,” he says calmly.
“Wrong,” I reply.
“We ended it.”
His gaze sharpens.
For the first time—
There’s something else there.
Not control.
Not fully.
Awareness.
“You think this ends with me,” he says.
“It does.”
A pause.
Then—
“Then come prove it.”
He raises his weapon.
So do we.
Everything narrows.
Sound.
Space.
Time.
All of it compresses into one moment.
One shot.
One decision.
One end.
