Ace did not wake.
His breathing was shallow.
Measured.
Like something counting down.
Ravenna hovered above him, hands shaking.
The workshop was full.
Not loud.
Not panicked.
Waiting.
Because Ace had taught them that panic wasted energy.
"…He's still here," the librarian said softly.
"But barely."
The baker clenched her apron.
"We're stable," she whispered.
"The systems are holding."
The dragon lowered his head to the doorway.
"Then why isn't he?" the dragon rumbled.
No one answered.
Ravenna swallowed.
Because they all knew.
Ace had never designed a world where he was allowed to be optional.
---
The System's Calculation
Far beyond the sky—
The figure stood motionless before the starlight pool.
The error logs scrolled endlessly.
Unresolved variance.
Emergent resilience.
Unpredictable cooperation.
Then a new line appeared:
BUFFER NODE FAILURE: IMMINENT
The figure's hands trembled.
"…If he collapses," they murmured,
"the load reroutes."
The pool showed Ravenna.
Small.
Bright.
Unaccounted for.
"…No," the figure whispered.
---
Ravenna Understands
Ravenna felt it before she thought it.
The pull.
The same pressure Ace had carried—
Now searching.
Looking for the nearest willing structure.
She backed away from Ace.
"No," she said aloud.
Ace had warned her.
Never replace a single point of failure with another.
She turned to the people.
"…He didn't save you so you could watch him disappear," she said.
Her voice shook.
"But I won't become the thing he refused to be."
The pull intensified.
The relic—
Long dormant—
Reappeared.
Hovering.
Waiting.
Offering.
---
The Refusal That Changes Everything
Ravenna raised her hands.
And did not take it.
Instead—
She spoke.
Not a spell.
A truth.
"Ace taught us redundancy," she said.
"So we use it."
She pointed to the baker.
"You stabilize food."
To the librarian.
"You stabilize memory."
To the dragon.
"You stabilize resources."
She pointed to herself.
"I stabilize connection."
The pressure shattered.
Not absorbed.
Distributed.
The relic cracked—
Not broken.
Redefined.
---
The System Panics
The starlight pool exploded with light.
"No—no—this is invalid!" the figure shouted.
"There must be a central authority!"
The gears seized.
Reality stuttered.
Then—
A new pattern emerged.
No center.
No hierarchy.
Just nodes.
People.
Culture.
The system screamed—
Then fell silent.
Not destroyed.
Outgrown.
---
Ace Breathes
Ace inhaled sharply.
Color returned to his fur.
Not strength.
Not power.
But presence.
Ravenna collapsed beside him, sobbing.
"…You idiot," she whispered.
"You really trusted us."
Ace smiled faintly.
"…Good design," he murmured.
Then—
For the first time—
The weight lifted.
Not gone.
But shared.
---
A New Constant
The world did not revert.
It adapted.
Bridges remained fragile—but multiplied.
Ovens varied—but fed more people.
The sky flickered—but stayed bright.
Somewhere—
The figure sat alone in the quiet.
"…We were never needed," they whispered.
The pool reflected no answer.
---
Ace slept.
Not as a buffer.
Not as a keystone.
But as something rarer.
A teacher who was finally allowed to rest.