"Good," Captain Rusk Dain said through the link—clean, immediate, inside Kael's skull and Astra's borrowed view. "Now hand her over."
For half a breath, nothing moved.
Then Kael's body betrayed him.
His shoulders tightened, spine going straight in that old military way that didn't ask permission. His right hand twitched—small, wrong—like a leash had found his tendons and decided it knew better than his mind.
Astra's throat went cold under the cloth wrap. The witness seal vibrated—excited, hungry for a clean channel. The handler mark on Kael's wrist burned in Astra's peripheral vision like a bruise made of law.
Kael's eyes stayed on hers.
Fury. Shame. Fight.
"I'm here," he rasped, like he was saying it to himself as much as to her.
Astra grabbed his wrist hard and yanked his hand down before it could rise toward her throat.
"Look at me," she snapped.
Kael's gaze locked. "I am."
Behind them, the conduit chamber breathed—old crestwright piping, dead-sand gutters, military geometry that still remembered how to make men kneel. At the mouth of the corridor, the lead Hound stood still as a drawn weapon, watching like he was waiting for the moment Kael stopped resisting.
Orin's fingers hovered over a scar-sigil smeared with black paste. Juno held a disk like a tooth. Lyra was absent—gone into some shadow again, as if she only existed when it was useful for trouble.
Rusk's voice continued, calm as a file stamp. "Custodian protocol active. Handler marker logged. Transfer the subject into military custody."
Dorian's silk laughter curled along Astra's nerves, delighted. "See? You rang the kennel bell and the kennel came."
Astra's stomach turned.
Kael's jaw clenched hard enough to ache. "Rusk. I deny."
A clean pause. Interest, then cruelty.
"You don't deny," Rusk said softly. "You report, and you comply."
Kael's fingers twitched in Astra's grip again, trying to rise. Not his choice. Not his want.
Astra felt her own pulse spike, hot and ugly.
Her interface flared—cold and merciless.
MILITARY LINK: ACTIVECOMMAND: TRANSFER SUBJECTCOMPLIANCE PATH: MOTOR SUGGESTION → HANDLER EXCEPTION → CUSTODIAN EXECUTIONWARNING: THREAT EXCEPTION MAY TRIGGER
Threat exception.
Astra's earlier "definition" knife. External force contacting her collar or seal counted as threat.
Kael's hand moving toward her throat—under external command—would qualify.
The system was already lining up the excuse to bypass consent.
Astra's teeth clenched.
She leaned close enough that her breath warmed Kael's jaw and spoke low, fierce—more intimate than a kiss because it was a vow made under a blade.
"Black water," she whispered.
Kael answered instantly, rough. "Black water."
Astra's chest tightened with heat and grief tangled together. Then she forced her voice steady.
"Consent," Astra whispered, urgent. "If your hand moves toward my collar, I will lock your motor output again. Only your hand. Only long enough to run."
Kael's eyes burned. He hated needing it.
Then he nodded once—sharp, chosen. "Yes."
The word hit Astra like permission and poison at the same time.
Rusk's voice cut in, colder. "Kael. Release the subject. Now."
Kael's knees trembled—tiny involuntary movement—his body trying to obey while his mind fought.
The lead Hound at the corridor mouth took one step forward, silent.
Orin hissed, "Now or never."
Juno's disk hummed louder, eager.
Astra didn't wait for the system to "help" her. She watched Kael's hand twitch toward her throat again—one inch, wrong—and felt the handler protocol sniff at threat like a dog.
Astra acted first.
She opened the handler panel and selected the smallest blade again.
OVERRIDE ACTION: MOTOR LOCK (KAEL) — RIGHT HAND ONLY (4s)
Pain snapped through Astra's skull, bright and invasive. Her vision flashed white.
Her trace buzzed hot—too hot.
She bit her tongue hard enough to taste blood and kept her posture upright.
Kael's right hand froze mid-twitch, fingers locked as if invisible cuffs had closed.
Kael's breath punched out. His eyes went wider with rage.
"I didn't—" he rasped.
"I know," Astra said tight. "Run."
Orin slammed his palm onto the scar-sigil. Stone in the floor seam shuddered and began to open—a mouth carved for panic.
Juno threw a disk into the corridor mouth. The disk hit the air and hummed low, dirtying the conduit signal like a smear across a lens.
The lead Hound flinched—just a fraction—as his clean read stuttered.
That fraction was enough.
Orin snarled, "Go!"
Astra shoved forward into the opening seam. Cold stone swallowed her boots, her calves, her thighs. She dropped down into older dark.
Kael dropped after her—controlled even in a fall, body angled to shield her without touching her throat.
Above, Rusk's voice sharpened. "Contain!"
The lead Hound lunged for the seam edge, arm outstretched.
Juno's second disk screamed—dirty hum sinking into the stone lip. The Hound's fingers missed by a breath.
Orin slammed the scar-sigil with a curse.
Stone snapped shut like a jaw.
Darkness swallowed the conduit's clean line.
Silence hit hard, heavy, temporary.
Astra landed on slick stone, pain flaring up her spine. She sucked in air, throat burning around cloth and metal.
Kael landed beside her and caught her forearm—not collar, not throat—steadying her upright.
"Breathe," Kael rasped. "Don't you dare faint."
Heat flared in Astra's belly despite everything, sharp and alive.
"I wasn't planning on it," she snapped, then tasted blood and added, quieter, "Thank you."
Kael's eyes burned. "For what."
Astra swallowed. "For fighting it."
Kael's jaw clenched. "I didn't fight enough."
Astra leaned close, voice low and fierce. "You fought. I felt it."
Kael's breath hitched.
Above them, muffled sound—boots, then a distant scrape as someone tested the sealed seam. The lead Hound wasn't gone. He was listening.
Orin hissed from the dark, "Move. He'll reopen it from the other side."
They ran.
Not far—because Underchain never gave gifts without interest. The passage narrowed, then widened into an old junction chamber with dead-sand gutters and rusted hooks. A place that smelled like wet iron and old secrets.
Orin slapped a scar-sigil. The air thickened, gritty, muffling signal. The witness seal under Astra's cloth wrap vibrated angrily, frustrated.
Good.
Astra's interface flickered—dim but readable.
TRACE: 88%+ (RISING)MILITARY LINK: ACTIVE (WEAK, BUFFERED)HANDLER PROTOCOL: ENGAGEDNOTE: COMMAND VOICE MAY PERSIST THROUGH CONDUIT NETWORK
Kael's eyes unfocused for a heartbeat—reading something only he could see.
Then his jaw tightened.
"He's still there," Kael said low. "Rusk."
As if on cue, Rusk's voice slid through the weak link—quieter now, but still clean.
"You think stone stops a recall," Rusk said. "Cute."
Astra's stomach turned. "Your recall is illegal in the Underchain."
Rusk chuckled softly. "Everything is legal when you're holding a leash."
Kael's breathing went tight. "Rusk. I am not returning."
A pause, then the calm cruelty sharpened.
"Then you are compromised," Rusk said. "And compromised Hounds are contained."
Orin muttered, "There it is."
Juno's eyes were wide, furious. "He's going to cage you."
Kael's mouth flattened. "Let him try."
Astra's throat burned. Cage Kael, and the interim oversight structure collapsed. If Kael lost custodian legitimacy, the contested handler transfer might snap—opening a clean path for House Veyrn to claim it again.
Astra felt Dorian's silk laughter brush her nerves, delighted.
"Let him cage the Hound," Dorian purred. "Then you'll have no wall."
Astra clenched her jaw.
Kael's gaze snapped to Astra's face, reading the shift. "He's in."
Astra nodded once. "Yes."
Kael's voice went low, intimate and lethal. "Tell him I'll bite."
Astra almost smiled.
Then she forced strategy back into her spine.
"We can't just run," Astra whispered. "Rusk will keep pulling on your crest. He'll keep escalating until you either kneel or break."
Kael's jaw clenched. "I won't kneel."
Astra believed him.
That wasn't the problem.
The problem was the system didn't always need a man's permission to make his knees bend.
Astra stepped closer, close enough that her shoulder brushed Kael's chest, grounding him with contact that wasn't ownership.
"Consent," Astra whispered. "I need to write one more line into your military link."
Kael's eyes darkened. "No more."
Astra's mouth tightened. "If we don't, he'll force compliance through muscle suggestion again."
Kael stared at her for a beat—anger fighting fear.
Then he swallowed hard and made the choice like a man signing his own restraint.
"One," Kael said. "And you tell me what it is."
Astra nodded once. "One."
She reached for his wrist crest casing—not touching without asking.
"May I," Astra whispered.
Kael's voice was rough. "Yes."
Heat curled low in Astra's belly because permission from him felt like oxygen.
She touched the casing lightly and opened Write(Other) limited. Pain sparked behind her eyes, trace buzzing hotter.
Astra carved a single line into the military link's acceptance path:
RECALL COMPLIANCE REQUIRES: KAEL RAITHE'S SPOKEN "YES" (VOLUNTARY) — ANY OTHER MOTOR OUTPUT = INVALID