Page 162 of Broken Sentinel

"Wait for rotation," I instruct Lily. "Then we move."

The minutes crawl by with excruciating slowness. Through the wall, I can hear the remaining attendant moving around the chamber, adjusting equipment with mechanical precision. Finally, a comm unit chimes.

"Rotation commencing," a voice announces. "Proceed to Checkpoint Alpha for handoff."

"Acknowledged," the attendant responds. "Subject stable. Proceeding to handoff."

Footsteps approach the door, pause, then fade as the attendant exits. The chamber falls silent except for the equipment's steady hum.

"Now," I whisper.

We slip from the supply closet into the processing chamber—a room I recognize from my own captivity at Unity's research facility. Clinical white surfaces, monitoring equipment, and at the center, a medical platform where a figure lies motionless.

Trent.

My heart constricts at the sight of him. Restraints secure his limbs to the platform, medical sensors attached to his bare chest and temples. An IV line feeds something blue-tinged into his arm, the fluid pulsing with subtle luminescence.

I rush to his side, Lily right behind me scanning for additional threats.

"Clear," she confirms. "But guard rotation complete in three minutes."

I focus on Trent, examining him for signs of Unity's modifications. His skin appears normal, though perhaps paler than usual. No visible changes like Vex's predator adaptations or Lily's silver eyes. Whatever they've done remains internal, hidden beneath the surface.

"Trent," I say softly, disconnecting monitoring sensors. "Can you hear me?"

No response. His breathing remains steady, face relaxed in artificial sleep. I remove the restraints, careful not to trigger alarms, then gently extract the IV line from his arm.

"We need to wake him," I tell Lily. "We can't carry him through the extraction route."

She reaches into her pack, producing a small vial. "Counter-sedative. Neutralizes Unity's compounds."

I take it, carefully administering the dose as Lily continues scanning our surroundings. The effect is almost immediate—Trent's breathing changes rhythm, eyelids fluttering as consciousness returns.

"Trent," I say again, relief flooding through me as his eyes begin to open. "It's me. Zara."

His eyes focus slowly, blinking away sedation's remnants. For a moment, he simply stares at me, expression blank. Then recognition dawns.

"Zara?" His voice sounds rougher than I remember, with a strange resonance beneath the familiar tone.

"Yes. We're getting you out of here." I help him sit up,noting how he moves with unusual caution, as if relearning his body's capabilities. "Can you walk?"

He nods, swinging his legs over the edge of the platform. "How did you—" He stops, wincing slightly as if in pain.

"Are you hurt?" I ask, steadying him as he stands.

"Processing effects," he manages. "They've been...making changes."

"We know. Lily can see them." I glance at her for confirmation.

Her silver eyes widen suddenly, alarm replacing concentration. "Something's wrong. His pattern is accelerating."

"What does that mean?" I demand, but Trent is already pulling away from me, moving to the room's center with mechanical precision.

"You shouldn't have come," he says, voice shifting to something colder, more controlled.

"Trent, we don't have time for this. Unity forces are everywhere. We have an extraction route, but our window is closing."

He shakes his head, a strange smile touching his lips. "You don't understand, Zara. I can't leave."

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