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And every time it killed, the last thing the victims heard was a little girl’s whisper.

Her name was Coda. A mute teenager with the power to absorb and replay any sound she had ever heard—like a living tape recorder. But when Weapon X tried to weaponize her, they discovered a flaw: she couldn’t replicate sounds she didn’t understand. Orders, gunfire, screams—they came out distorted, hollow. Useless.

The Sentinel froze. Its red eyes flickered. Then it turned, smashed through the facility’s ceiling, and disappeared into the night, carrying that single ghost of a child’s fear with it.

Sentinel. Prototype Mark I.

Not human. Metallic. Slow. Deliberate.

She pressed her palm to the wall and absorbed. The sound was a low, grinding pulse, like a giant heart made of gears. It was beautiful. It was terrifying.

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