Page 28 of Broken Sentinel

"Are you afraid?" Eden asks suddenly.

The question catches me off guard. Am I afraid? Of what I might be becoming? Of what it means for my identity as a Sentinel? Of Unity's response if they discover the truth?

"Yes," I admit, the honest answer surprising me. Of everything. "But I'm also curious."

Eden smiles slightly. "That's good. Fear keeps you safe, but curiosity makes you free."

It sounds like something she's been taught, a Splinter philosophy perhaps. Yet there's wisdom in it that resonates with me.

For the rest of my shift, I care for Eden while processing everything I've learned. When Lyra returns to relieve me, I exit the chamber with reluctance, strangely protective of this child who has inadvertently confirmed my worst fears and ignited my deepest questions.

I find Trent waiting for me in our cramped quarters, his expression revealing nothing until the door slides shut and the privacy field activates.

"You're unharmed," he says, the slight relaxation in his shoulders betraying his concern.

"I'm fine. The man—the one who grabbed your arm—he knew what to look for. He was checking for a Sentinel chip."

Trent nods. "I noticed. Military trained, possibly former Security Division."

"Eden confirmed it. She can see our chips somehow, says they 'glow.'" I sink onto the sleeping platform, suddenly exhausted. "She also said my genetic changes were deliberate,not random. That they've been 'sleeping' and are only now 'waking up.'"

Trent processes this in silence, his analytical mind no doubt calculating possibilities and implications.

"What does that make me, Trent?" I ask quietly. "If I'm not what Unity says I am—a pure human—then what am I?"

He moves to sit beside me, close enough that I can feel his warmth but not quite touching. "You're Zara Thorne," he says simply. "That’s all that matters.”

But who is Zara Thorne?

The unexpected response brings a lump to my throat. "It matters when it could get me processed as a Splinter infiltrator."

"Not while I'm here." The certainty in his voice is absolute.

I look at him, this man who represents everything Unity stands for—discipline, control, perfection—yet who just promised to protect me from that very system.

"Why?" I ask, echoing Eden's question from earlier. "Why would you risk everything to protect me if I'm becoming what we've been trained to hunt?"

Trent meets my gaze, and for once, he doesn't hide behind Sentinel control or professional distance. What I see in his eyes makes my breath catch—determination, certainty, and something deeper.

Perhaps something I want to see.

"Because that's what people should do," he says, repeating his words to Eden. "Protect each other. Even when they're different." He pauses, then adds quietly, "Especially when it's you."

The admission hangs between us, not quite a declaration but more than we've ever acknowledged before. I don't know who moves first, but suddenly his hand covers mine on the sleeping platform, warm and solid and real.

"Whatever happens," he says, "whatever you're becoming, we'll face it together."

In this moment, in our cramped maintenance quarters with the hum of Lower Arcology machinery surrounding us, I believe him. Despite Unity, despite our mission, despite the uncertain changes transforming me from within, I believe him.

And for the first time since my enhancements began failing, I'm not afraid of what I might become.

Because I won't face it alone.

CHAPTER 7

My legs burnwith lactic acid, lungs pumping as I sprint through the simulated urban landscape. The training course is designed to test a Sentinel's peak performance—reflex enhancement, sensory proccessing, and decision-making under pressure. Usually I'd navigate this obstacle course with fluid precision, every movement calculated and efficient.

Today, I'm barely keeping up.

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