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We move across the broken terrain in perfect synchronized silence, the resonance connection allowing wordless coordination.

Lily guides our path, sensing patrol movements before they become visible.

Sara maintains our masking field, adjusting its frequency to counter Unity's scanning systems. I keep my senses extended outward, hunting for any trace of Trent or Vex's distinctive signatures.

The maintenance tunnel entrance appears exactly where intelligence indicated—a narrow opening barely visible amid collapsed debris. Jo moves forward first, checking for security measures before signaling us forward.

"Clear," she whispers. "Proceed in established order."

We enter the darkness in single file, resonance connection our only guide as we navigate the cramped passage. My enhanced vision adapts gradually, revealing details others would miss—ancient maintenance markings, service junctions, the occasional evidence of animal passage.

Time stretches strangely in the confining darkness. It could be minutes or hours before we finally reach a junction marked with Haven symbols—our entry point to Resonance's lower levels.

"Security scan," Jo warns as we approach the sealed access panel.

Sara steps forward, placing her palm against the scanner. Through our connection, I feel her modifications adapting, replicating the authorization patterns needed to bypass security. The panel shifts from red to green with a soft click.

"Access granted," she confirms. "Sixty-second window before system reset."

We slip through the opening one by one, emerging into what was once Resonance's maintenance level.

The transformation is immediate and jarring—Haven's warm, organic design replaced by Unity's clinical efficiency.

Temporary barriers erected, security checkpoints established, the entire settlement repurposed into a processing facility.

"Prisoner locations?" I ask Lily quietly.

Her silver eyes unfocus slightly as she extends her perception through the structure. "Multiple signals. Lower detention level holds most prisoners." A pause. "Vex is there. Alive but weakened."

Relief floods through me. Alive. Not well, perhaps, but alive.

"And Trent?" I press, dreading the answer.

Her expression turns troubled. "Upper level. Central processing chamber. His pattern is... changing." She looks at me directly. "They're accelerating modifications. Not like yours or mine. Something else."

Project Duality. Unity's twisted version of controlled evolution.

"Two objectives," Jo decides. "Team One extracts general prisoners including the Splinter. Team Two retrieves the Sentinel."

I nod, already knowing where I need to be. "I'll take Team Two. Lily with me—her perception will help locate Trent precisely."

"I'll lead Team One," Sara offers, surprising me. "My adaptive capabilities should help with security systems."

Jo considers briefly, then nods. "Agreed. Communication through resonance connection only. Rendezvous at extraction point in forty minutes."

As we prepare to separate, Sara catches my arm. "If the Sentinel has been significantly modified..." She leaves the sentence unfinished, but her meaning is clear.

"I'll handle it," I say with more confidence than I feel.

We part ways at the next junction, the resonance connection stretching but holding as our teams move in opposite directions. Lily leads me upward through service passages, avoiding main corridors where Unity personnel would be concentrated.

"Guard patterns have changed," she whispers as we reach the level below our target. "More modified operators than intelligence indicated."

"Can we bypass?"

She nods. "Ventilation shaft. Narrow but passable."

The shaft is indeed narrow—barely wide enough for shoulders, requiring us to wriggle through like maintenance snakes. The irony of escaping Unity through ventilation again isn't lost on me. Some patterns repeat, it seems.

We emerge into a utility closet one level below the processing chamber. Through the ceiling, I can hear the distinctive hum of Unity medical equipment—the sound that haunted my captivity at the research facility.

"Trent is directly above us," Lily confirms, her silver eyes tracking something invisible to normal sight. "Two guards at the chamber entrance. Modified."

I check my weapons—non-lethal stunners designed to work even against enhanced physiology. "Approach through main corridor or find alternate route?"

Lily's head tilts slightly as she scans. "Maintenance access behind west wall panel. Bypasses main entrance."

"Perfect."

The access panel is well-concealed, exactly as Lily described. It slides open silently under her touch, revealing a narrow vertical shaft with service rungs. We climb carefully, emerging into what must be a supply closet connected to the processing chamber.

Through the thin wall, I can hear voices—clinical, detached, discussing their subject as if he were a specimen rather than a person.

"Accelerated integration continues at optimal rate," one reports. "Subject shows remarkable compatibility with modified sequences."

"Expected, given his Sentinel enhancements," another responds. "Though the neural integration remains unstable. Cognitive restructuring at seventy percent."

My blood runs cold. Cognitive restructuring. They're not just modifying his body—they're altering his damn mind.

"Prepare for final phase," the first voice instructs. "Director Mercer wants the subject ready for transfer by 0600."

Footsteps recede, a door hisses closed. The chamber falls silent except for the steady beep of monitoring equipment.

"Two personnel departed," Lily whispers. "One remains with the subject."

I check the time—0350. Less than ten minutes until the guard rotation Jo mentioned during our planning session. If we time this correctly, we can extract Trent during the brief window between shifts.

"Wait for rotation," I instruct Lily. "Then we move."

The minutes crawl by with excruciating slowness. Through the wall, I can hear the remaining attendant moving around the chamber, adjusting equipment with mechanical precision. Finally, a comm unit chimes.

"Rotation commencing," a voice announces. "Proceed to Checkpoint Alpha for handoff."

"Acknowledged," the attendant responds. "Subject stable. Proceeding to handoff."

Footsteps approach the door, pause, then fade as the attendant exits. The chamber falls silent except for the equipment's steady hum.

"Now," I whisper.

We slip from the supply closet into the processing chamber—a room I recognize from my own captivity at Unity's research facility. Clinical white surfaces, monitoring equipment, and at the center, a medical platform where a figure lies motionless .

Trent.

My heart constricts at the sight of him. Restraints secure his limbs to the platform, medical sensors attached to his bare chest and temples. An IV line feeds something blue-tinged into his arm, the fluid pulsing with subtle luminescence.

I rush to his side, Lily right behind me scanning for additional threats.

"Clear," she confirms. "But guard rotation complete in three minutes."

I focus on Trent, examining him for signs of Unity's modifications. His skin appears normal, though perhaps paler than usual. No visible changes like Vex's predator adaptations or Lily's silver eyes. Whatever they've done remains internal, hidden beneath the surface.

"Trent," I say softly, disconnecting monitoring sensors. "Can you hear me?"

No response. His breathing remains steady, face relaxed in artificial sleep. I remove the restraints, careful not to trigger alarms, then gently extract the IV line from his arm.

"We need to wake him," I tell Lily. "We can't carry him through the extraction route."

She reaches into her pack, producing a small vial. "Counter-sedative. Neutralizes Unity's compounds."

I take it, carefully administering the dose as Lily continues scanning our surroundings. The effect is almost immediate—Trent's breathing changes rhythm, eyelids fluttering as consciousness returns.

"Trent," I say again, relief flooding through me as his eyes begin to open. "It's me. Zara."

His eyes focus slowly, blinking away sedation's remnants. For a moment, he simply stares at me, expression blank. Then recognition dawns.

"Zara?" His voice sounds rougher than I remember, with a strange resonance beneath the familiar tone.

"Yes. We're getting you out of here." I help him sit up, noting how he moves with unusual caution, as if relearning his body's capabilities. "Can you walk?"

He nods, swinging his legs over the edge of the platform. "How did you—" He stops, wincing slightly as if in pain.

"Are you hurt?" I ask, steadying him as he stands.

"Processing effects," he manages. "They've been...making changes."

"We know. Lily can see them." I glance at her for confirmation.

Her silver eyes widen suddenly, alarm replacing concentration. "Something's wrong. His pattern is accelerating."

"What does that mean?" I demand, but Trent is already pulling away from me, moving to the room's center with mechanical precision.

"You shouldn't have come," he says, voice shifting to something colder, more controlled.

"Trent, we don't have time for this. Unity forces are everywhere. We have an extraction route, but our window is closing."

He shakes his head, a strange smile touching his lips. "You don't understand, Zara. I can't leave."

"They've modified you," I tell him, as if he doesn't already know. "Whatever they've done, whatever they told you—we can fix it. But we have to go now ."

"Fix it?" He laughs, the sound all wrong coming from his mouth. "There's nothing to fix. Project Duality isn't what you think."

I frown, a strange feeling creeping up my spine, while Lily tugs urgently at my sleeve. "Zara, his patterns are destabilizing. The modifications are affecting his neural pathways."

I take a step toward him. "Trent, listen to me. This isn't you talking. It's Unity's processing, their control. The real Trent would never?—"