06…05…04…
The numbers weren't just in Astra's vision.
They were in her bones—cold, clean, and owned by no one except the system's appetite for order.
The Guild seal on her throat hummed like a second collar. Not loud. Not cruel in the way Dorian was cruel. Clinical. Like a blade sterilized before it cut.
Meros Hal stood in the doorway with his hands politely visible, as if he wasn't about to turn Astra into a case file. The attendant's slate glowed faintly, recording breaths, posture, pulse—everything that could be weaponized later.
Kael was a wall at Astra's side, close enough that she could feel the heat of him without touch. His face was controlled. His eyes weren't. They tracked Meros's fingers like they were knives.
Lyra Sable watched from behind Astra with a bright, hungry calm, like she'd been waiting to see which predator would get the first clean bite.
Orin's hand hovered near the scar-sigil that opened the back seam. Juno's wire disk sat ready between her fingers, twitching to be thrown.
And Astra had six stolen seconds of body control before the pain she owed came roaring back.
03…
Meros's smile held. "Please remain still."
Astra met his gaze and let her mouth curve—small, sharp, insolent. "I am."
She wasn't.
Not in the way he meant.
Not in the way the seal wanted.
Her stabilizer vow gripped like a brace: prioritize Astra's chosen ruleset until safe. Safe didn't exist, so Astra would have to choose the ruleset that created a window.
02…
Her collar pulsed, eager to please the Guild. The seal pulsed, eager to override the collar. Two neat authorities arguing over who got to hold the pen.
Kael's voice dropped beside her ear, low enough that the slate wouldn't catch the shape of it clearly.
"Astra," he said, deliberate, protocol-shaped, "if you move, you move with your feet under you."
Heat ran through her—not softness. Not relief. A fierce steadiness. His voice was a rope.
Astra breathed.
01…
Orin's eyes met hers.
He didn't ask.
He didn't plead.
He waited for the moment Astra's stolen time turned into action.
Astra nodded once.
Orin slammed his palm to the scar-sigil.
Stone shifted behind the salt-streaked pillar—soundless, practiced—opening a seam just wide enough to swallow a body.
Juno flicked her disk forward, low and fast.
It skittered across the floor, humming like a trapped insect, and lodged near the attendant's slate.
The slate's glow stuttered.
The attendant's head snapped down in reflex.
That reflex mattered.
00.
The delayed punishment hit.
Pain surged into Astra's nerves like boiling wire.
Her breath cracked. Her knees threatened to fold.
Kael's hand caught her elbow—firm, quick—holding her upright without touching her collar. Not a leash. A brace.
Astra bit down hard enough to taste blood.
Meros's polite smile finally sharpened. "Hostile concealment," he said calmly, as if announcing weather. "Record—"
The attendant's slate tried to hum again.
Juno's disk screamed once—an ugly, high note that made the slate's sigils scramble.
Orin grabbed Astra's shoulder and hauled her toward the seam.
"Now," Orin snapped.
Kael moved with her—half a step behind, shielding, eyes on Meros.
Meros lifted two fingers and traced a tight sigil in the air.
The Guild seal on Astra's throat responded—humming, tightening, searching for priority channel access.
Astra's interface flickered violently.
AUDIT LOCK: ENGAGINGAUTO-COMPLIANCE: RISINGGUILD WITNESS SEAL: PRIORITY CHANNEL OPEN
Astra's stabilizer vow pushed back, but the seal had teeth.
Astra's vision swam.
Then Kael spoke again—harder, sharper, like a law hammered onto iron.
"Astra," he said, "breathe. Don't surrender your posture."
It wasn't romantic.
It was a lifeline.
Astra dragged air in.
Her spine held.
The seal's pull faltered for a fraction of a second—confused by competing stabilizers that didn't feel like an owner channel.
Astra used the fraction like it was gold.
She shoved herself into the seam.
Stone swallowed her shoulder, her hip, the cold burn of her collar against the edge of rock.
Kael followed, body turned sideways, still guarding the opening. Orin shoved Juno through after them.
Lyra—
Lyra didn't rush.
Lyra stepped close to Meros instead, smiling like she belonged in clean lamplight and paperwork.
"Be gentle," Lyra said softly, as if this were a flirtation instead of a capture.
Meros's eyes flicked to her—recognition tightening. "Lyra Sable."
Lyra's smile widened. "Hello, Meros."
Astra's stomach dropped.
Not strangers. Not even acquaintances.
A thread.
Kael's jaw clenched, murderous.
Lyra's gaze slid past Meros to Astra—bright, amused, warning.
Then Lyra moved, quick as a knife.
Her hand flashed up—not to Meros's throat, but to the attendant's slate.
She pressed two fingers to a corner sigil.
The slate's hum died.
The attendant stiffened, shocked.
Lyra whispered something Astra couldn't hear.
The slate's light flared once—then went dark.
A tactical blackout.
Lyra stepped backward into the seam with a smile that never reached her eyes.
"Run," Lyra murmured to Astra like it was a love note.
Then Orin slammed the scar-sigil.
Stone closed.
Meros's calm voice hit the rock a heartbeat too late. "Seal lock—"
The sound died in stone.
They were in darkness.
Cold, damp Underchain air swallowed them whole.
Astra stumbled as pain tore through her again—no Delay Loop now, no mercy gap. Her trace throbbed under her skin like a bruise that someone kept pressing.
Kael's arm went around her ribs, steadying her in the dark without crushing her. His breath was hot at her ear.
"Feet," he ordered.
Astra forced her legs to obey.
Orin moved ahead like he'd memorized every crack in this hidden throat. Juno kept close, breathing hard, fury vibrating in her like a wire about to snap.
Lyra slipped in behind them, too quiet for the chaos she'd just caused.
"Why did you help?" Astra rasped, voice cracked by pain and betrayal.
Lyra's answer came smooth. "Because acquisition is bad for business."
Kael's voice was ice. "Because you know him."
Lyra laughed softly. "Everyone knows someone."
Orin hissed, "Shut up, both of you. Move."
They ran blind through a narrow crawl, shoulders scraping stone. Water dripped from above like cold fingers. Astra's collar pulsed in disoriented bursts—confused by the sudden signal drop, furious at being denied clean authority.
The Guild seal on her throat hummed anyway.
It didn't care about signal.
It cared about rights.
Astra's interface flickered in the dark, faint but readable.
TRACE: 75.0%GUILD WITNESS SEAL: ACTIVEAUDIT LOCK: PARTIALNOTE: SEAL CAN BROADCAST LOCATION UPON TRIGGER
Broadcast.
A beacon on her throat.
Astra swallowed bile.
Orin stopped at a junction where the crawl widened into a low corridor and pressed his palm to a scar-sigil.
The air thickened—an Underchain muffler that swallowed clean reads and smeared signatures.
Astra sagged against the wall, shaking, pain making her vision pulse.
Kael didn't let her slide down.
His body stayed close, bracing her without pinning.
Astra hated how much she wanted to lean into him.
She did it anyway—just a fraction—because she was tired of fighting gravity alone.
Kael's voice went low. "Can you stand."
Astra swallowed. "Yes."
Kael's jaw flexed. "That wasn't a question about pride."
Heat flared under Astra's skin—hot, sharp, intimate in the middle of filth and threat.
"It's always about pride with you," Astra rasped.
Kael's eyes darkened in the dim. "No. It's about control."
Astra's mouth curved—bloody, defiant. "Same thing."
Kael's breath hitched like he wanted to argue and didn't have time.
Lyra leaned against the opposite wall, watching them with bright amusement.
"You two are exhausting," Lyra said softly. "It's like watching knives flirt."
Kael's gaze snapped to her. "Stop talking."
Lyra's smile sharpened. "Make me."
Jealous heat sparked in Astra's gut—ugly and immediate.
Not because Kael belonged to her.
Because Lyra was touching a line Astra had bled to hold.
Astra forced herself to breathe through it.
Heat was a weapon if she aimed it.
Astra turned her head slightly toward Lyra. "What did you whisper to the slate."
Lyra's eyes gleamed. "A small lie."
Orin snorted. "A small lie to a Guild recorder is still a death wish."
Lyra shrugged. "I didn't lie to the Guild. I lied to the file."
Astra's throat tightened. "Meaning."
Lyra's smile stayed thin. "Meros doesn't decide everything. He feeds data into a bigger mouth. I… delayed the meal."
Kael's jaw clenched. "You can do that because you've done it before."
Lyra's eyes flicked to him, amused. "Yes."
Astra's collar pulsed at the word yes like it liked certainty.
Then the Guild seal tightened—tiny pressure, a polite squeeze that felt like a warning.
Astra's interface flickered hard.
AUDIT LOCK: RISINGTRIGGER CONDITION: SUBJECT RESISTANCE / FLIGHTNEXT RESPONSE: LOCATION BROADCAST
Astra's blood ran cold.
"It's going to ping," Astra said, voice low.
Orin's face tightened. "How long."
Astra blinked through pain, reading the line that made her stomach drop.
COUNTDOWN: 00:00:42
Forty-two seconds until the seal screamed her location into the Guild's clean network.
Kael's jaw clenched. "We rip it off."
Lyra laughed once—sharp. "You can't rip a Guild seal. It's keyed. You'll tear her throat and the seal will still broadcast."
Astra swallowed hard. "Then we change the trigger."
Orin's eyes narrowed. "How."
Astra's interface pulsed, eager to offer her the knife again.
WRITE (SELF): AVAILABLE (AUDIT RISK EXTREME)