Page 62 of Broken Sentinel

"I was Unity's most efficient Sentinel," I remind him, raising my chin. "You sure about this?"

"That was before awakening." His smile widens to something almost predatory. "Now you have to relearn your body's capabilities."

Fine. If he wants a demonstration, I'll give him one. I launch forward with a standard Sentinel strike, fast and precise?—

And he's not there.

I stumble slightly, thrown off by my own enhanced speed and the unexpected absence of my target. Vex has moved aside with impossible quickness, his expression amused.

"Too predictable. Unity fighting styles prioritize efficiency over adaptability." He shifts his weight, beckoning me forward. "Again. But this time, don't think like a Sentinel. Feel your new capabilities."

I reset, taking a breath. This time, instead of executing a textbook move, I let my enhanced senses guide me—tracking his subtle weight shifts, the minute changes in his breathing that telegraph his likely response.

When I move, it's with a speed that startles even me. My fist comes within centimeters of his jaw before he twists away, surprise flickering across his face.

"Better," he says, circling again. "Much better."

We continue like this, an elaborate dance of attack and evasion. Each time I come closer to landing a hit, my body learning its new capabilities through action rather than analysis. It's nothing like Unity training, with its precise protocols and measured evaluations. This is instinctive, almost primal.

And I'm enjoying it far more than I should.

Twenty minutes in, I'm moving with a fluid grace that feels natural despite being entirely new. My enhanced reflexes anticipate Vex's movements, my body responding faster than conscious thought.

"You're holding back," I accuse after a particularly close exchange.

"Of course." His eyes gleam with amusement. "I've had years to master my modifications. You've had hours."

"So show me. Full capability."

His expression shifts to something more serious. "You sure about that?"

"Afraid I'll win anyway?"

The taunt works. Vex's posture changes subtly, the controlled restraint giving way to something wilder. "Your funeral, Sentinel."

What happens next is almost too fast to track, even withenhanced perception. He moves like liquid shadow, feinting left before appearing almost instantaneously at my right. I barely manage to block the strike, the impact jarring up my arm despite my enhanced strength.

"Shit," I breathe, genuinely impressed.

"Predator package," he explains, not even winded. "Enhanced speed, strength, and reflexes optimized for hunting. Plus infrared vision and enhanced scent tracking."

"Sounds handy."

"In the wasteland?" His smile turns grim. "It's survival."

We continue sparring, but now he's showing me the full range of his abilities, pushing me to adapt and respond. My body learns quickly, enhanced muscles and nerves working together in ways that would have been impossible yesterday.

I'm so focused on our training that I almost miss the distant sound, a high, thin whistle cutting through the air.

Vex hears it too, freezing mid-movement. “Shit. Perimeter alarm."

In an instant, the training session ends. Vex is all business, pulling a compact communications device from his pocket. "Report," he barks into it.

A crackling voice responds: "Vehicle approaching from the northwest. Unity markings."

My blood runs cold. "A patrol?"

"Or worse." Vex's expression hardens. "Stay here."

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