“Immediately. Strip the environment. No tools. No screens. No systems.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And bring me the man from Cell Four.”
The color drained from the technician’s face. “The— the failed subject?”
“The reminder,” Sentinel corrected.
He cut the line and turned back to the data one last time.
Logan Carter.
Sentinel could feel him now—like pressure against glass.
Scout Fallon hadn’t whispered this time.
She’d shouted.
And Carter had heard her.
That meant the game had changed.
Sentinel stopped in front of the glass overlooking the corridor where Scout was being escorted out—hands cuffed now, posture still straight, eyes alert even as guards flanked her.
She looked up.
Not at him.
At the ceiling.
Tracking. Listening.
Still fighting.
His lips thinned.
“Very well,” he said softly.
He pressed another command.
Across the facility, locks disengaged.
Cells opened.
A scream echoed—cut short almost immediately.
Scout’s head snapped up.
There it was.
Fear.
Not for herself.
For others.
Sentinel smiled.
