The world blurred past as the Sentinel dragged me through the city's unseen veins—through alleyways too narrow to be monitored, through service corridors where the walls hummed with unseen power.

I didn't fight him. Not now. Not when I could still feel the weight of the approaching Sentinel behind us.

Then, without warning, we stopped. The air around us shifted.

The lights above flickered. The city's perfect hum hiccupped, like a breath caught mid-inhale. The walls at the edges of my vision rippled, glitching in and out of place.

I stumbled back, gripping my head as static buzzed through my skull.

"Where—"

"We are inside a Glitch." His voice was calm, but something in his stance had changed. His posture, always unnervingly precise, now looked… uncertain. His cybernetic eye flickered, scanning the air around us. "This location is unsynchronized with The Master's grid."

I blinked. "Unsynchronized?"

"The system does not acknowledge this place. It will remain intact until it is found." His fingers twitched slightly, adjusting. "The Sentinel cannot see us."

I exhaled, my legs almost giving out beneath me.

I think I am safe. For now.

I looked at my surroundings. The space felt unfinished, like a half-rendered memory. The walls didn't quite hold their shape, the sky above flickered between day and night, and the air cracked with an unstable charge. I could still hear the city beyond it, still sense the world continuing without us.

But we were like ghosts.

I turned my attention back to the Sentinel, who was still scanning our surroundings.

Matte black, reinforced plating subtly lined his shoulders and arms, segmented down his chest like the exoskeleton of something inhuman. The fabric beneath shifted as he moved—seamless yet unyielding, designed for efficiency, for control.

He is definitely a Sentinel.

I swallowed hard, the weight of my situation settling in my chest. I was in the Upperworld. I was trapped with a Sentinel—one that should have turned me in, but for some reason hadn't.

My fingers twitched toward the knife hidden in my jacket. "Why did you help me?"

His expression remained unreadable. "It was the most efficient course of action."

A cold knot twisted in my stomach.

Efficient course?

"Efficient for who?" I pressed, stepping forward despite every nerve in my body warning me not to. "For you? For The Master?"

His cybernetic eye flickered again, as if recalibrating. "For the immediate situation."

That wasn't an answer either.

Frustration burned in my throat. I had no idea what he wanted, no idea why he hadn't dragged me to The Master like every other Sentinel would have.

I gritted my teeth. "So what now?"

The Sentinel didn't answer immediately. He studied me, his gaze cool, clinical, as if assessing an unfamiliar variable.

"The Sentinel unit that detected your presence is still active. We remain here until it reconfigures its search pattern."

I exhaled sharply, barely containing the anger rising in my chest.

"So I'm supposed to just sit here and trust you?"

His head tilted again, ever so slightly. "Trust is irrelevant."

Something in me snapped. "Irrelevant?" I spat, taking a step closer. "I just threw myself into the Upperworld—into enemy territory—because I thought I could find Ron! I don't have a way back, I don't have a plan, and I sure as hell don't have time to be stuck here with a machine who thinks trust is 'irrelevant'!"

The Sentinel blinked. "You are distressed."

I let out a bitter laugh. "No kidding."

He studied me, unblinking, unshaken. "This reaction was predictable."

My nails dug into my palms. "Oh, I'm sorry. Am I not reacting in the most 'efficient' way possible for you?"

The Sentinel remained unmoved. "Your frustration is not productive."

I almost screamed. "I don't care if it's productive! I care that I have no idea what the hell I'm doing here!"

The words echoed between us, the weight of them settling in the flickering silence.

The Sentinel regarded me for a moment longer before speaking. "That was apparent from the beginning."

The cold, detached way he said it made something sharp twist in my chest. I had followed Ron here on nothing more than impulse. I had spent years surviving, fighting, and strategizing every move just to avoid The Master's gaze. And now, I had thrown myself straight into his domain without a second thought.

Stupid. Reckless.

And the Sentinel knew it.

I clenched my jaw, trying to ignore the burning frustration behind my ribs. "Well, congratulations, Sentinel. You figured it out. I don't have a plan. Happy?"

He didn't blink. "Happiness is not relevant."

I exhaled harshly, shoving my hands into my hair. "You are the most infuriating—"

The walls around us flickered again, the edges of the Glitch shifting like ripples in water. Temporary. That's what he said. Meaning soon, this place would collapse, and I'd be out of time.

I needed to figure out what he really wanted before that happened.

I forced the thought down before it could spiral. I needed clarity, not panic. I needed control. But as I looked at the Sentinel, as I tried to unravel the enigma of his presence, all I felt was the crushing realization of how little control I had left.

I needed a way out of this, and fast.

A new thought clawed its way to the surface—one that made my stomach twist with dread. Maybe I had no choice.

Maybe the only way to see Ron again… was to let the Sentinel take me to The Master.

I swallowed hard and forced myself to meet his gaze. "Take me to The Master."

For the first time, something in the Sentinel's expression wavered—an almost imperceptible flicker of hesitation, like a program encountering an error it couldn't process.

His lips parted slightly, but no answer came. His cybernetic eye dimmed for a fraction of a second, and his posture stiffened, like he was fighting against an internal command.

And then, just as quickly, the flicker was gone.

"No."

I blinked. "What?"

His jaw tensed. "Request denied."

I took a step closer, my frustration mounting. "Why? That's your job, isn't it? To capture humans and take them to him?"

Silence. A strange, almost heavy silence.

His gaze locked onto mine, unreadable. Then, I saw it again.

Conflict.