"During full spectrum synchronization, you will experiencesignificantly more sensory sharing than in previous sessions," she explains. "This means you may temporarily perceive through your partner's senses rather than your own. Some disorientation is normal."
What she doesn't mention is that full spectrum sync also allows access to deeper emotional states and memory fragments. In essence, we'll be closer to actually being in each other's heads than ever before.
My palms are suddenly damp with nervous sweat.
Oh god, please don’t let him know how I actually feel about him. I would die of embarrassment.
"The final stage of preparation requires direct neural pathway alignment," Ellis says, attaching the secondary interfaces to our temples. "Please establish physical connection."
This is the part of synchronization I simultaneously dread and look forward to the most. For the neural pathways to properly align, we need skin-to-skin contact. Specifically, hand-to-hand connection in a way that aligns the major nerve pathways of the arms.
Trent extends his hands toward me, palms up. I reach out, placing my hands in his. His fingers are warm, slightly calloused from years of weapons training, and they curve around mine with gentle pressure.
"Maintain contact throughout the initialization sequence," Ellis instructs, retreating to the monitoring station at the edge of the chamber. "Synchronization beginning in three, two, one..."
The first wave of connection feels like a cool tide washing through my mind as Trent's consciousness touches mine, tentative and controlled. I close my eyes, focusing on the techniques we've practiced for years, imagining our separate neural patterns as streams merging into a single river.
"Initial synchronization established," Ellis announces. "Proceeding to level two."
The second wave is stronger, breaking through thecarefully constructed barriers we've maintained in previous sessions. Suddenly I can feel the sync chair beneath Trent's body as clearly as my own, the slight tension in his shoulders, the controlled rhythm of his breathing. It’s absolutely disorienting.
"Level two synchronization stable," Ellis notes. "Cognitive patterns aligning at 87% compatibility. Exceptional response. Proceeding to level three."
The third wave hits like a lightning strike, electricity crackling along my neural pathways. My eyes fly open to find Trent staring at me, his pupils dilated, breath coming slightly faster. In this moment, I don't just sense his physical state, I feel the edges of his emotions, like shadows glimpsed through fog.
Surprise. Concern. Curiosity. And beneath it all, something warmer that makes my heart rate spike.
"Remarkable," Ellis murmurs, studying the monitoring displays. "Your neural patterns are achieving spontaneous harmonization beyond standard parameters. Level three synchronization achieved in record time."
I barely hear her. I'm too busy drowning in the strange double-awareness of being both myself and slightly Trent at the same time. I can feel the tension in his jaw as if it were my own, taste the standard-issue hydration supplement he consumed earlier, catch the faint scent of my own skin through his enhanced senses.
It's exhilarating and terrifying all at once.
"Proceeding to level four," Ellis announces.
Wait, four? Most Sentinel pairs never go beyond level three!
"Supervisor, perhaps we should stabilize at level three before—" Trent begins.
"Command's orders are clear, Sentinel Vanguard," Ellis cuts him off. "Your team is to attempt all synchronization levels you can successfully achieve."
The fourth wave doesn't wash over us—it smashes through us, breaking down walls I didn't even know I'd built. Suddenly I'm not just sensing Trent's physical state or skimming the surface of his emotions—I'm falling into his mind, glimpsing fragments of memories that aren't mine.
A child standing at a vast transparency panel, watching simulated rain fall against the arcology walls while real devastation rages outside...
A younger Trent receiving his first Sentinel assignment, pride and trepidation warring inside him...
The first time we met, but from his perspective: me, looking younger and fiercer than I remember, determination blazing in my eyes as I completed the combat assessment that would pair us together...
And beneath it all, a current of something focused entirely on me—an awareness so intense it makes my breath catch.
"Level four synchronization achieved," Ellis says, her voice betraying actual emotion for the first time. "Neural compatibility at 96%. This is unprecedented for non-sibling pairs."
Trent's hands tighten almost imperceptibly around mine. Through our connection, I feel his sudden wariness—not of the synchronization, but of Ellis's reaction to it.
"Proceeding to final level," she continues.
"Wait—" Both Trent and I speak at the same time, our voices harmonizing perfectly.