33. Hannah
Hannah
No.
The word keeps echoing inside my head long after Avery’s hand falls still.
No.
No no no—
This can’t be happening.
Not after I finally remembered her.
Not after she found me again.
I stare at Avery’s face while tunnel lights flicker red overhead.
Blood still coats my hands.
Warm.
Real.
And all I can think is—
I promised her.
Somewhere deep inside those broken memories—
I promised her I’d come back.
And I didn’t.
A sound escapes me.
Small.
Broken.
Clay kneels beside me instantly, one hand settling carefully against my back.
Not pushing.
Not controlling.
Just there.
Grounding me before I completely shatter.
“I’m sorry,” he says quietly.
The softness in his voice almost destroys me more than Avery’s death did.
Because Wu never sounded like that.
Not once.
Not ever.
Wu watches Avery’s body without emotion.
No grief.
No regret.
Nothing.
Like she was already gone long before tonight.
And suddenly—
something inside me turns cold.
Not fear.
Clarity.
I rise slowly to my feet.
Blood drips from my fingertips onto the tunnel floor.
Wu studies me carefully.
“Hannah.”
I look directly at him.
And for the first time since meeting him tonight—
I’m not afraid.
“You killed her.”
Wu’s expression remains calm.
“Subject Seven became operationally unstable after extraction failure.”
Not Avery.
Subject Seven.
My vision blurs red instantly.
“She had a name!”
The tunnel echoes with the force of my scream.
And behind Wu—
one of the Sentinel operatives flinches.
Tiny movement.
Barely noticeable.
But I see it.
So does Russ.
Interesting.
Wu notices too.
His voice sharpens immediately.
“Maintain discipline.”
The operative goes still again.
Too still.
Like instinct got crushed back down by training.
A strange ache twists through my chest.
Because suddenly I recognize it.
Not the operative.
The reaction.
Conditioning.
Fear.
Obedience drilled so deeply into someone that their body reacts before their mind can.
Oh God.
Not all of them are willing.
Some of them are survivors too.
Gabriel sees it at the exact same time I do.
And his entire face hardens.
“There it is,” he mutters darkly.
Wu ignores him.
But I don’t.
Because something about Gabriel suddenly feels wrong.
Not dangerous.
Familiar.
The way he watches Wu.
The way Wu speaks to him.
The way Gabriel looked at me earlier—
like he already knew me, before I took that survival class.
My pulse stumbles
Then another memory slams into me.
A teenage boy slipping me extra bandages after punishment drills.
A deep voice whispering:
“Keep your head down, Hannah.”
A hand covering my ears during screaming tests.
Brown eyes.
Protective eyes.
Oh my God.
I stare at Gabriel.
“You…”
Gabriel freezes.
The tunnel goes silent again.
Wu’s gaze sharpens instantly.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
My breathing turns uneven.
“I know you.”
Gabriel doesn’t answer.
That’s answer enough.
“You were there.”
Clay looks between us immediately.
“Hannah?”
Memory crashes harder now.
Older than Avery.
A boy sitting beside me in the dark during storms.
Giving me half his bread ration.
Threatening another child for making me cry.
Protecting me.
Always protecting me.
Not like a soldier.
Like family.
My chest tightens painfully.
“You told me stories.”
Gabriel closes his eyes briefly.
Just once.
Pain flashes across his face.
Real pain.
When he opens them again—
I finally see it.
Not just familiarity.
Grief.
“Oh my God…”
The words barely leave me.
“You’re my brother.”
Everything stops.
Even Wu goes completely still.
Clay stares at Gabriel sharply.
Russ mutters,
“Holy hell.”
Gabriel looks wrecked suddenly.
Like he’s been holding something together for years and it just shattered.
“Hannah…”
My knees nearly give out.
“No,” I whisper. “No, I would remember—”
“They took it from you.”
Wu finally speaks again.
Cold.
Controlled.
“She became emotionally dependent on him after initial family-link exposure. We corrected the attachment.”
Corrected.
I physically recoil.
Gabriel’s fury detonates instantly.
“That’s enough!”
Every Sentinel weapon rises again.
Gabriel steps in front of me automatically.
Protective.
Instinctive.
And suddenly I know.
Not conditioning.
Family.
My brother.
My actual brother.
Memory slams into me again—
holding his hand while crossing a flooded street.
Calling him Gabe.
Him carrying me after I scraped my knees.
Then later—
both of us inside Sentinel.
Older.
Terrified.
Trying to survive.
Oh God.
Tears blur my vision instantly.
“You were there with me.”
Gabriel nods once.
Jaw tight.
“I tried to get you out.”
Wu’s expression darkens.
“He destabilized her progress repeatedly.”
“She was a child!”
Gabriel’s roar shakes the tunnel.
“She cried herself sick after your conditioning sessions!”
The Sentinel operatives behind Wu visibly tense now.
Not aggressive.
Uneasy.
One of them lowers his rifle slightly.
Another shifts backward.
Tiny fractures in perfect discipline.
Because they’re hearing this too.
And some of them remember.
Wu notices immediately.
Danger flashes through his eyes.
“Reinforce suppression protocols.”
Suppression.
The word twists my stomach violently.
Gabriel laughs harshly.
“There it is.” He gestures toward the operatives. “You hearing this? He still thinks we’re machines.”
We.
Not them.
We.
Another operative hesitates.
A woman this time.
Her hands shake slightly on her rifle.
My pulse spikes.
They were children too.
Dear God.
Wu’s calm starts cracking around the edges now.
“Your emotional contamination continues to compromise operational order.”
Gabriel steps closer.
“No. The truth does.”
Wu’s eyes turn glacial.
“You survived because of Sentinel.”
Gabriel’s voice breaks with fury.
“No.” He points at Avery’s body. “We survived because of each other.”
The exact words I said.
The tunnel goes silent again.
And suddenly I realize something horrifying.
Wu built Sentinel on trauma.
Isolation.
Control.
But the children survived anyway by loving each other in secret.
Friendships.
Protectiveness.
Tiny acts of kindness.
Humanity survived underneath all the conditioning.
That’s what Wu could never fully destroy.
My chest tightens painfully as I look at Avery.
At Gabriel.
At the operatives beginning to look uncertain.
Then memory hits again.
Hard.
A room.
Red walls.
Children’s names written across files.
Numbers beside them.
Status updates.
Deceased.
Missing.
Terminated.
Conditioning failed.
I gasp sharply.
Clay catches my arm instantly.
“Hannah?”
“The list.”
Wu goes completely still.
Oh my God.
I finally understand.
It’s not intelligence codes.
Not military secrets.
It’s worse.
So much worse.
The list is proof.
Every child Sentinel stole.
Every child who died.
Every child they broke.
I look at Wu in horror.
“You documented them.”
Wu says nothing.
Which means yes.
Gabriel’s face goes pale.
“Hannah…”
My voice shakes violently.
“You kept records.”
Wu’s expression hardens.
“Necessary operational tracking.”
Operational tracking.
Like children were inventory.
Something inside me snaps completely.
“No more.”
Wu studies me carefully now.
Calculating.
Then very quietly—
“You still don’t understand what you are.”
The words send cold down my spine.
But before he can continue—
one of the Sentinel operatives suddenly lowers his rifle fully.
Then removes his helmet.
Young.
Maybe twenty-five.
Scars along his jaw.
Terror in his eyes.
“I remember her,” he whispers, staring at me.
Wu’s head turns slowly.
Dangerously.
The operative’s breathing shakes.
“She used to sing at night.”
Oh my God.
Another operative lowers her weapon too.
Then another.
Tiny fractures becoming cracks.
Wu’s voice drops into something lethal.
“Stand down.”
Nobody moves.
And for the first time—
Director Wu looks afraid.