Ambrose stirred, his synthetic skin cooling rapidly in the vent's air circulation. His glowing circuits flickered in an erratic pattern before finally stabilizing. The heat that had once threatened to melt his core had now subsided, leaving him momentarily exhausted — but functional.
Then, the sentinels turned towards them.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Their scanning beams intensified, locking onto Zack, Arya, and Jake with renewed precision. Their sleek, metallic bodies whirred as they adjusted, processing the new data.
Zack's grip tightened on his weapon. "They're recalibrating."
Jake swore under his breath. "No time to run."
Then, without a word, Ambrose pushed himself forward, dropping from the vent with a smooth, controlled motion. The moment his feet hit the ground, the red scanners of the sentinels pulsed in unison.
He stepped forward.
Arya raised her blade, eyes darting to Ambrose. "You ready to fight?"
