The first thing I saw was the boy.
He couldn’t have been more than seven, curled in a shallow pocket of shadow behind a broken stone pillar. His clothes were stiff with dirt, and his arms were locked tightly around his knees like he was trying to disappear into the stone. His eyes were wide and glassy, but it wasn’t fear that hit me first. It was the pulse, his resonance reached me before his face registered, jagged and unsteady, jumping in every direction without focus or control.
It was early resonance. Raw and unstable, but unmistakably a sleeper agent. Like me.
I moved slowly because I understood how easily an untrained mind could spiral when the signal hit too hard. I crouched low, keeping my hands open and my voice steady. “Hey,” I said. “I can feel you. You’re not broken.”
His h
