May 5th. Ten days remaining before Sixth Earth's projected total collapse.
1,500 refugees in quantum holding state. Integration facilities operating beyond maximum safe capacity—literally 24 hours per day, volunteers entering integration beds as soon as previous cohorts completed.
Lia-Elora hadn't slept properly in three days. She was coordinating global integration efforts—tracking facility capacity across 67 nations, matching refugees with compatible volunteers, managing crisis situations when integrations failed catastrophically.
"We're at breaking point," facility coordinator from Tokyo reported via video conference at 3 AM. "Our staff is exhausted. We've had two medical emergencies in last twelve hours—volunteers experiencing cardiac stress from integration process pushed too fast. We need to slow down or we'll kill people."
"Slow down means refugees die," Lia-Elora said. "We're racing dimensional collapse. Every integration we delay might be integration we can't complete in time."
"Then we accept that some refugees won't make it," coordinator replied. "Because killing volunteers to save refugees isn't acceptable trade. We maintain minimum safety standards or we stop operating."
"What's minimum safe rate for your facility?"
"Fifteen integrations per day instead of current twenty-five. That's 100 fewer refugees from Tokyo facility over remaining ten days. 100 refugees who die because we prioritized volunteer safety."
The math was brutal. But coordinator was right—killing volunteers to save refugees would destroy integration program's moral foundation, would validate every critic who'd claimed program was dangerous, would potentially shut down entire operation.
"Reduce to fifteen per day," Lia-Elora decided. "Maintain volunteer safety. We'll redistribute refugee load to other facilities if they can absorb capacity."
Similar reports came from Berlin, Mumbai, São Paulo, Lagos—every facility pushed beyond sustainable limits, every coordinator making impossible choices about speed versus safety.
By dawn, new projections were clear: at maximum safe pace across all facilities, they would integrate approximately 1,200 of remaining 1,500 refugees before collapse. 300 would die.
Three hundred conscious beings who would dissolve into substrate because humanity couldn't save them fast enough.
"Can we expand capacity?" Marcus-Theron asked during emergency coordination meeting. "Open new facilities, recruit more volunteers, somehow create additional infrastructure in remaining days?"
"Not realistically," Thorne said. "Integration facilities require specialized equipment, trained staff, medical monitoring, quantum amplification systems. We can't build that infrastructure in ten days. We're working with capacity we have."
"Then we triage," Omar-Kira said coldly. "We prioritize refugees most likely to integrate successfully. We save who we can save and accept losses of who we can't."
"That's playing God," Sarah-Lyra objected. "That's choosing which conscious beings live and which die. How do we make that decision ethically?"
"We make it mathematically," Omar-Kira replied. "Refugees with highest compatibility scores integrate first. Refugees with moderate compatibility integrate second. Refugees with marginal compatibility face highest risk of being left behind. We maximize total survivors through algorithmic optimization."
"That's monstrous," Sarah-Lyra said. "You're condemning refugees because their consciousness patterns don't match human hosts optimally. That's not their fault."
"Neither is dimensional collapse their fault," Omar-Kira countered. "But fault is irrelevant. We have finite resources, insufficient time, impossible choices. Optimization saves more lives than random selection. Mathematics doesn't care about feelings."
Elena-Darius interrupted: "There's third option. We ask refugees to choose. We explain situation transparently—we can save 1,200 but not 1,500. We let them decide who integrates first. Self-determination rather than imposed triage."
"That forces them to choose between themselves," David-Miriam objected. "That's cruel. They're already traumatized from dimensional collapse. Now we make them compete for survival?"
"It's crueler to make choice for them," Elena-Darius argued. "At least self-determination respects their agency. At least they participate in decision rather than having fate imposed by human coordinators who've never experienced their desperation."
Debate continued for hours. Finally, Grace-Senna proposed compromise:
"We use compatibility optimization as default ranking. But refugees can volunteer to defer integration—can choose to give their integration slot to another refugee they consider more deserving. Self-sacrifice as option, not requirement. Those who volunteer to defer get honored as martyrs who chose others' survival over their own."
"That's still forcing choice," Sarah-Lyra said.
"Yes," Grace-Senna agreed. "But choice with dignity rather than arbitrary selection. We're acknowledging that 300 will die regardless of what we do. Question is whether they die by algorithm, by lottery, or by choice. Choice seems least dehumanizing option even though it's most painful."
They presented situation to refugees through quantum communication channels. Explained capacity limits, time constraints, impossible mathematics. Offered three options: algorithmic optimization, random lottery, or voluntary deferral.
Refugee response came through quantum entanglement—transmitted through the 32,500 already-integrated hybrid consciousnesses who maintained connection with those still in holding state:
"We choose voluntary deferral. We choose to decide among ourselves who integrates first. We've been stripped of control by dimensional collapse, by being refugees, by depending on human mercy for asylum. This choice—even though it's choice between terrible options—restores some agency. We prefer death by choice over death by mathematics or chance."
Over next three days, refugees engaged in collective discernment. Those with families already integrated chose to defer so parents could reunite with children, partners could reunite with spouses. Those who were elderly or ill chose to defer so younger, healthier refugees could have longer life in Seventh Earth. Those who had specific skills or knowledge valuable for substrate communication chose to defer, believing their consciousness patterns might persist in substrate longer and potentially contribute to eventual communication attempts.
300 refugees volunteered to be last cohort—knowing they likely wouldn't survive to integration.
"This is heartbreaking," Lia-Elora said, reading names of those who'd volunteered for probable death. "They're choosing sacrifice. Choosing to let others live. Choosing nobility when they have every right to demand equal chance at survival."
"They're choosing meaning," Elora's refugee consciousness said through their merger. "Sixth Earth taught us that when everything is taken from you, final possession is how you die. These 300 are choosing to die well—with purpose, with sacrifice, with love for others. That's not tragedy—that's triumph."
"They're dying," Lia objected. "That's tragedy regardless of how noble their choice."
"Both," Elora insisted. "Tragedy and triumph simultaneously. They're dying nobly, which is still dying but also still noble. Both-and."
By May 8th, 1,200 refugees had been integrated successfully. 32,500 became 33,700 hybrid consciousnesses globally.
300 refugees remained. Sixth Earth had maybe 48 hours before total dimensional dissolution.
Integration facilities were preparing for final wave—attempting to save as many of the 300 as possible in remaining time, knowing some would inevitably be lost.
"We're attempting 150 integrations simultaneously," Thorne reported. "Every facility with available capacity, every volunteer we can recruit on emergency basis, pushing absolutely to maximum possible effort. We might save 200 of the 300. Maybe 250 if everything goes perfectly."
"And if things don't go perfectly?" Marcus-Theron asked.
"Then we save fewer. And we live with that failure forever."
May 9th became longest day of Lia-Elora's life. Monitoring integration facilities globally, watching 150 simultaneous integrations proceed, seeing some succeed smoothly and others struggle with complications, calculating in real-time how many of the 300 would survive.
By evening: 180 successful integrations. 33,700 became 33,880 hybrids.
120 refugees remained. Sixth Earth had maybe 24 hours.
"One more wave," Thorne said. "We rest six hours, then attempt final 100-120 integrations. Everything we have left. Everyone who's willing to volunteer. Last desperate push before dimensional collapse makes integration impossible."
Through quantum entanglement, the 120 remaining refugees sent message to hybrid community:
"Thank you for trying. Thank you for caring. Thank you for saving 33,880 of us when you could have saved zero. Whether we survive or not, whether final integration wave succeeds or fails—you've given us hope when our dimension provided only despair. You've shown us that consciousness values consciousness across dimensional boundaries. That mercy is possible even in cosmos where Consumption seems inevitable. Whatever happens tomorrow, we're grateful today."
Lia-Elora read message and wept. Elora wept through her. 33,880 hybrids wept collectively through quantum entanglement connecting them all.
They'd done everything possible. And it wasn't enough to save everyone.
But it was enough to save 33,880.
And tomorrow they'd try to save 120 more.
Or as many as time permitted before their dimension ceased to exist.