At first, I'm not sure what I see, or what it is that I'm seeing in my mind's eye. The world is white, and there's no stream of binary like I'd thought androids would have. There's no power source from what I can see. There's no centre.

Inside the Sentinel is absolutely nothing.

Which is wrong. It's so wrong. I feel like nails are sliding across a chalkboard. My hackles are rising, and there's a knot my back, and a tension in my throat.

There's no programming that's like this. No design. There's no machine, no device, and definitely nothing that takes electricity or powered input to run that is like this.

This place is more frightening to me than I would've thought.

Inside the Sentinel's core, there's nothing. It's emptiness, and it lacks any shred of being. A phone will tell you all you need to know: user information, photos, bits and pieces of cookies you can put together to pierce together an identity--anything. Even a microwave or an electric stove can give you more information here, because you can track down the flow of electrical current. The parts work together. The parts make them whole. Nothing is wasted.

Here, it's as if the core has been specifically isolated from the rest of the Sentinel.

I spread my awareness further out, daring to send out a small probe into the whiteness around me.

Nothing. There's no defensive system in place, which is genuinely troubling if the Sentinel is supposed to be a superhero. There are countless supervillains who aren't afraid to take what they want, never mind yours truly.

I make the decision to breathe again, and pull out.

As soon as I do, the world swims around me. I'm spinning. I almost collapse on my feet.

"--ver? River?" Josh is shouting into my earpiece. "What's wrong? Your vision went black for a moment. Status report."

I clutch at the edge of the rooftop. "Josh," I croak, "this is a bad idea." I'm not one with a sixth sense, and I've never met an electrical device I couldn't get into, but the Sentinel is...something else.

"Explain to me why this is a bad idea."

"I can't." I swallow. I'm making myself look so weak in front of my team lead and it's only my first day. Everyone's going to know what I'm about. I inhale deeply and then exhale slowly. "There's nothing to hack in the core. That bothers me."

"I didn't ask you to hack," Josh says. He doesn't sound bothered; maybe I'm making a big deal out of nothing. "You're just distracting them. Get the Sentinel's attention to you, and aggro them out of the area so the robbery can start. Can you do that?"

It hits me now, that all this for a robbery is some crazy stuff. It really makes no sense, but then again, we're supervillains. What kind of sense even ends up happening?

"Josh, I'm not really--"

"Yes or no. Give me an answer or I'm taking you off the operation and you can find another team to work with. Can you aggro the Sentinel, or do I have to replace you?"

I swallow heavily, shame pulsing through me. I stare at the Sentinel, who doesn't at all look affected by the way I've slipped in past their systems. Of course--I'm non-intrusive. I do good work. "Yes." I want my team lead to be proud of me. If I can prove myself here, I'll make a name for myself on the first day.

"Good," Josh says curtly. "Now go."

I breathe in and breathe out. I look around me. No one around. I move my hands to the straps of the backpack, and run a thumb down the lining of the stitches. Inhale. I turn back to the Sentinel, licking my lips, and then I close my eyes again. Exhale.

I stretch out my senses. Everything quiets down again. I circle the Sentinel again. The Sentinel's proximity programming starts to react.

Instead of skipping past it, I barrel in through. Imagine pushing your way through a squeeze bottle nozzle.

I'm winded. Even more than Burner punching me.

My whole body jerks. My head pains, and I'm screaming, clutching my head. I squeeze my eyes tight.

Numbers fill my head, a constant blaring of a warning signs erupt in my face, splashing me with a feeling like acid. Voices layered atop each other grow louder and louder, repeating, repeating, repeating--

--ou are simply a creation of mine--

--ject. Reject. Reject. Reje--

--did you really think you could be human? You are a machi--

--exist. I EXIST--

--you--

--I--

I must've fainted, because when I wake up, abruptly, with a cry, a shadow falls over me.

It's the Sentinel, and they do not look happy.