“Jesus Christ…”
Mason shines another light farther down the corridor.
The beam catches something painted on the wall.
A symbol.
Black circle.
Three vertical lines through the center.
Gabriel goes completely still.
“What is that?” Clay asks.
Gabriel’s jaw tightens hard.
“Original Sentinel.”
The words echo coldly through the tunnel.
“Before Wu.”
That gets everyone’s attention.
Russ lowers his rifle slightly.
“There were people before him?”
Gabriel nods once slowly.
“Wu inherited the program.”
Ice floods my veins.
No.
No no no.
Because that means Sentinel wasn’t created by one monster.
It survived multiple generations.
Institutionalized evil.
Built carefully over decades.
My breathing starts accelerating again.
Overlap pressure slams into me hard—
and suddenly the tunnel disappears.
Flash—
I’m small again.
Maybe eight.
