Page 132 of Broken Sentinel

"Lead the way," I tell Sara. "But know this—we move as a unit. All of us."

She studies Vex and Trent with open curiosity. "A Splinter security chief and a former Sentinel. Interesting companions for a Haven child."

"They're with me," I say simply, brooking no argument.

A slight smile touches her lips. "Then they're welcome. The Sanctuary accepts all who choose adaptation freely."

As she turns to lead us through the storm, I notice something I missed initially—a small butterfly tattoo at the base of her neck, blue wings spread in flight. The same symbol marked the map in my mother's recording.

Haven's mark. Confirmation, if I needed it, that we've found what we've been searching for.

Or rather, they've found us.

CHAPTER 26

The Northern Settlementsaren't what I expected.

I'd pictured ramshackle structures cobbled together from salvaged materials, desperate survivors clinging to existence in the wasteland. Instead, we approach a community that appears not just functional but thriving, with buildings integrated with the natural landscape, solar panels gleaming despite the lingering storm clouds, gardens terraced into hillsides in clever arrangements.

"Welcome to Resonance," Sara says as we crest the final ridge. "Our primary Haven sanctuary."

The settlement occupies a sheltered valley, natural mountain formations providing protection from the worst weather patterns. A small river winds through its center, its flow harnessed by what appears to be a hydroelectric system. People move purposefully between structures, many showing visible modifications.

"How many?" Trent asks, Sentinel assessment automatic even now.

"Three hundred and seventeen residents," Sara answers. "Sixty-four Haven descendants, the rest a mixture of Splinter refugees and sympathizers who chose to join us."

"Haven descendants?" I question. "Not children?"

Sara’s beguiling eyes turn to me. "The original twelve Haven children have grown up, Zara. Many have families of their own now. The network expands through bloodlines."

The concept hits me harder than I expected. While I've been living my carefully controlled Sentinel existence, other Haven children have been building lives, creating families, extending the project's legacy through natural means.

I’m almost…jealous.

"Except you and Lily," she continues, reading my expression. "The last to awaken. We've been searching for you both for years."

We descend into the valley along a well-maintained path. As we draw closer to the settlement, I notice subtle security measures hidden among the natural elements, observation posts disguised as rock formations, what appear to be defensive systems integrated with the hydroelectric dam, communication arrays camouflaged as trees.

"Impressive setup," Vex comments, his amber eyes cataloging the same details I've noticed. "Well-defended without appearing militarized."

Sara nods. "Necessary balance. We avoid drawing attention while maintaining readiness for Unity incursions."

I feel Trent's hand brush mine briefly, whether reassurance or seeking it, I'm not entirely sure. Since leaving the mountain cave, we've had little opportunity for private conversation, the journey to Resonance consuming all our focus.

The storm has finally passed, leaving behind a landscape washed clean, colors more vibrant in the aftermath. Sunlight breaks through scattered clouds, highlighting the settlement in golden patches that shift with wind-driven shadows.

As we enter the community proper, residents pause in their activities to observe our arrival. Their curiosity feels different from Haven's Edge, less clinical assessment, moregenuine welcome. Many nod in greeting, a few offering smiles or casual waves.

"They've been expecting you," Sara explains. "News travels quickly through the resonance network."

"The what now?" I ask.

"You'll see soon enough. The Haven council is waiting to meet you both."

We're led to what appears to be the settlement's central building, a circular structure with living plants incorporated into its walls, solar collection devices forming much of its roof. Unlike Unity's sterile white architecture or even Haven's Edge's utilitarian design, this building seems almost organic, as if grown rather than constructed.

Inside, natural light filters through cleverly positioned skylights, illuminating an open space where ten people wait in a loose semicircle. They vary in age from perhaps thirty to well over sixty, all bearing subtle signs of modification—unusual eye colors, textured skin patterns, hands with too many joints or not quite the right proportions. There’s beauty in the variety.

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