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They exchange a look I can't quite interpret.

"We'll be professional," Trent assures me.

"Absolutely," Vex agrees with mock seriousness. "I'm always professional."

I roll my eyes. "Right. I'm going to prepare my gear. I suggest you both do the same."

As I turn to leave, Reid hurries up, tablet in hand. "Zara, before you go—we've identified something concerning in the intel Ellis provided."

"Oh god, what now?" I ask, weariness seeping into my voice.

"Unity isn't just tracking you. They've identified a specific genetic marker sequence they believe is the core of your adaptive capability. They're calling it the 'Thorne Signature.'"

"Named after my mother? How flattering."

Reid's expression remains grave. "They're developing a targeted suppression compound designed to deactivate it."

The implications hit me immediately. I blink. "They want to reverse my modifications?"

"Or control them," Trent says quietly. "If they can suppress the adaptive capability at will, they could weaponize it."

Jesus.

A chill runs through me. "Turn me into exactly what Unity always feared—a weapon they can't control."

"Unless they succeed in developing this suppression method," Vex points out. "Then you'd be a weapon they could control."

"Either way, something to avoid," I say, trying for lightness and failing. "Good to know what we're up against."

As Reid heads off to continue preparations, I'm left with Trent and Vex again—both watching me with concern they express in entirely different ways. Vex's is open, straightforward in its intensity. Trent's is more controlled, buried beneath layers of Sentinel training but no less real.

"I need some air," I mutter, heading for the exit.

To my surprise, neither follows. Maybe they realize I need space to process all this, or maybe they're just saving their energy for tomorrow's mission. Either way, I'm grateful for the solitude as I make my way to the settlement's eastern edge.

The butterfly clearing is empty when I arrive, no blue-winged creatures dancing among the flowers today. I sit on the same sun-warmed rock where Vex taught me to balance my senses, closing my eyes and extending my awareness outward.

The world expands around me—birds calling in the distance, small creatures moving through underbrush, the subtle shift of air currents through leaves. I focus on these natural rhythms, letting them steady me as I consider what lies ahead.

Unity is hunting me specifically. They want to control the very thing that makes me unique—my ability to adapt, to change, to evolve. The cruel irony isn't lost on me. I spent years as a Sentinel, enforcing Unity's genetic purity laws, never knowing I was exactly what they feared most.

And now I'm running again, using my modifications to protect others like me. Maybe that's what my mother intended all along—not just a bridge between worlds, but a defender of those caught between them.

I don't know how long I sit there before I sense someone approaching. The familiar footfalls and scent identify Trent before he comes into view.

"Thought I might find you here," he says, stopping at a respectful distance.

"Checking up on me?"

"Making sure you're alright," he corrects gently. "This is a lot.”

I open my eyes, studying him. Despite everything, there's still comfort in his familiar presence—the way he stands, the careful neutrality of his expression that can't quite hide his concern.

"I'm fine," I say automatically. Then, more honestly: "Actually, that's a lie. I'm terrified. Unity is hunting me, preparing some kind of suppression weapon, and now I'm about to lead two men who can barely tolerate each other on a dangerous mission."

Trent's lips quirk upward slightly. "When you put it that way, it does sound challenging."

"You think?" I pat the rock beside me, an invitation he accepts after a moment's hesitation. "Why did you volunteer for this? You could have stayed here, helped with the settlement's defenses."