Page 54 of Broken Sentinel

Before either man can escalate their obvious dislike of each other, another wave of pain crashes through me. This one's worse, white-hot agony that radiates from my spine outward. I barely register my own scream as my back arches off the bed.

"Neural spike!" Reid shouts, reaching for something.

Through the haze of pain, I feel something else—a different kind of awareness blossoming behind my eyes, unfamiliar yet somehow right. Suddenly I can see the room differently—heat signatures, electromagnetic currents, the subtle glow of modified genetics in Vex's body.

"Her eyes," Vex says quietly. "Full adaptation."

"Pulse rate climbing," Reid reports. "Body temperature elevating."

Someone grabs my hand. Trent. His palm is cool against my burning skin, his grip firm and steady. "Focus on my voice, Zara. You can ride this out."

Another man might have offered empty reassurances, promises that everything would be fine. Trent knows better. He gives me something to anchor to instead, the sound of his voice, the pressure of his hand.

"Heart rate critical," Reid warns. "We need to sedate her."

"No," Vex counters sharply. "Suppressing the process now could cause permanent damage. She needs to push through it."

"She'll die if we don't intervene," Trent snaps.

The argument fades as another wave hits, this one so intense that reality fractures around me. I'm no longer fully in the present—memories surge forward, so vivid I can't distinguish them from reality.

A laboratory, gleaming equipment. A woman with my eyes adjusting something on a monitor. "The sequence is stable," shesays. "The modifications will remain dormant until the trigger conditions are met."

A man's voice, concerned: "And if Unity discovers her before then?"

"They won't know what to look for. To them, she'll just be another orphaned child. By the time the changes begin, she'll be in position to make a difference."

The memory shifts, fragments.

Fire alarms. Shouting. The woman—my mother—lifting me into strong arms. "Keep her safe, Daniel. She's the only one with the complete sequence."

"What about you?" Reid's voice, younger but recognizable.

"I need to destroy the remaining samples. Can't risk Unity finding them."

The sensation of being carried, a child's confusion and fear. My small voice: "Mama?"

"Be brave, little one. Remember who you are."

The memory dissolves in another wave of pain, and I'm back in the medical facility, every nerve ending on fire. Someone's holding me down, or rather, multiple someones. My vision strobes between normal and enhanced perception, the world a kaleidoscope of sensory input I can't process.

"Temperature hitting 104," Reid reports. "We have to cool her down."

"Cold packs," Trent orders. "And get me a neural suppressor."

"No suppressors," Vex argues. "Let her process naturally."

"Look at her!" Trent shouts. "She's not processing, she's drowning!"

Another memory surges, this one newer.

Trent's voice, quiet in our maintenance quarters: "I've been protecting you for longer than you realize, Zara."

The fury I've been nursing reignites, giving me something to focus on beyond the pain. He knew. He always knew.While I was terrified of what was happening to me, he had answers he chose to withhold.

"Zara." Trent's face swims into view. "Stay with us. Focus on my voice."

I turn away from him, seeking someone else. My eyes find Vex, who's watching me with an intensity that cuts through the chaos.

---