Not a refusal.
A requirement of voluntary affirmation.
A human word.
The pain hit harder than she wanted. Her vision flashed white again.
She tasted blood.
Kael's fingers tightened on her forearm, bracing her upright. "Breathe."
Astra forced air in.
Her interface flickered.
WRITE (OTHER): COMMITTEDTRACE: 90%+ (CRITICAL RISK)
Orin swore softly. "You're cooking yourself."
Astra wiped blood from her lip with the back of her hand. "Not today."
Kael's gaze burned into her face. "What did you do."
Astra's voice was low, steady. "He can't make your body comply without your spoken yes."
Kael's jaw clenched. Relief and rage tangled. "Good."
Rusk's voice slid through the weak link again, colder now—like he could feel the door Astra had just installed.
"You're interfering with military command," Rusk said.
Astra lifted her chin. "I'm defining voluntary compliance."
Rusk laughed softly. "You think you can civilize a leash."
Kael's voice cut in, flat. "Try again, Rusk."
A pause.
Then Rusk's tone changed—still calm, but sharper in intent.
"Fine," Rusk said. "I don't need your knees, Kael. I need your distance."
Astra's stomach dropped. "What."
Orin's face tightened. "He's going to separate you."
Kael went still. "He can't."
Rusk's voice purred with patience. "Watch me."
The air in the chamber shifted—faint, clean pressure pressing against Orin's muffler like a pen tapping a door. Not enough to breach yet.
Enough to remind them: the Hounds were close.
Astra's witness seal vibrated angrily under the cloth, sensing clean signal approaching again.
Astra's interface flashed a new notice, dim but lethal:
MILITARY ORDER: CONTAINMENT ROUTE AUTHORIZEDTARGET: KAEL RAITHEMETHOD: SEPARATION FIELD (SIGILCRAFT)NOTE: SUBJECT ASTRA VEY TO BE LEFT FOR GUILD/OWNER CLAIMANTS
Dorian's silk voice laughed, warm and hungry. "Yes. Leave her."
Kael's body went rigid. "No."
Astra grabbed Kael's forearm harder, forcing him to feel her.
"Kael," she snapped. "Look at me."
His eyes snapped to hers—dark, furious.
Astra's voice went low and intimate, heat braided with strategy.
"Consent," Astra whispered. "If they throw a separation field, I will use handler override to keep you with me."
Kael's jaw clenched. "That's control."
Astra's eyes burned. "That's survival."
Kael's throat worked. He hated it.
Then he made the choice anyway, because he'd promised—because he kept choosing voice over violence.
"Yes," Kael said, rough. "If they try to split us—do it."
The word yes hit Astra like heat and grief.
Astra nodded once. "Agreed."
Orin hissed, "Less vows. More moving."
They moved.
Down a tight passage, then left, then down again. Orin's route was a spiral into older Underchain, where dead sand thickened and scar-sigils were carved deeper, desperate.
But military conduits were threaded through this city like bones.
They couldn't outrun bone.
Behind them, a new sound—faint, clean—like a field charging.
Kael flinched.
Astra felt it too: a pressure line slipping between them like a knife finding a seam.
Astra's interface flared.
SEPARATION FIELD: INCOMINGETA: 00:00:03
Juno swore. "Now!"
Orin slammed a scar-sigil and the passage ahead shuddered, trying to open.
Too slow.
The pressure line sharpened between Astra and Kael, invisible but real—making Kael's heat feel suddenly far away, as if the air itself decided they were not allowed to touch.
Astra's throat burned.
She didn't wait.
She opened handler override and selected the smallest possible blade again—not to command Kael, but to command the distance.
OVERRIDE ACTION: ANCHOR LINK — KEEP PROXIMITY (2m radius) — 5s
Pain detonated behind Astra's eyes. Her trace screamed.
Kael's body jerked as if a tether snapped into place between them—ugly, undeniable. He stumbled one step closer, pulled by law.
He hated it.
Astra hated it.
But they were still together.
The separation line hit—and failed, dispersing against the forced proximity anchor like a wave breaking on stone.
Kael exhaled hard, furious. "Astra—"
"I know," Astra rasped. "I know."
Orin's passage finally opened—an old seam mouth into a narrow chamber.
They dove through.
Orin slammed the scar-sigil.
Stone snapped shut behind them.
Silence hit like a slap.
Astra staggered, vision swimming. The world tilted.
Her trace buzzed so hot it felt like insects under her skin.
Kael caught her—waist and forearm—bracing her upright with brutal gentleness.
"Consent?" Kael asked, voice rough.
Astra forced her eyes open and nodded. "Yes."
Kael held her steady, breath tight. "You're going to fall."
Astra laughed once, harsh. "Not if I can help it."
Kael's jaw clenched, eyes burning with something raw. "Stop paying in your blood."
Astra's throat tightened. "Then stop making me the only one who can."
Kael went very still.
Heat rose between them—sharp, intimate, dangerous. Not romance. Negotiation. Two weapons deciding how to stay pointed at the world instead of each other.
Kael's voice dropped low, almost a confession. "Tell me what you want from me."
Astra swallowed. Her mouth was dry. "Choice."
Kael's eyes darkened. "I'm choosing."
Astra leaned closer, close enough that her breath warmed his jaw. "Then choose this."
Kael's throat worked. "Say it."
Astra's voice went low, sensual and fierce, consent-as-foreplay braided with a tactical vow.
"If you feel Rusk pulling you," Astra whispered, "you tell me before your muscles move. You don't hide it. You don't try to 'endure' it alone."
Kael's breath hitched.
That word—endure—hit his wound.
Kael's jaw clenched. "Fine."
Astra's eyes held his. "And you ask me—out loud—when you want me to lock something."
Kael's voice came rough. "I don't want it."
Astra's mouth curved, razor-thin. "Want isn't the point."
Kael swallowed hard. "Then… I will ask."
Astra's chest tightened with heat and relief.
She wanted to kiss him so badly it hurt.
She didn't.
She chose the kind of intimacy that didn't feed the system—voice, vow, consequence.
Then a new sound vibrated through the stone—faint but clean.
A voice.
Not Rusk's this time.
The lead Hound again—closer, physical, patient.
"He's right here," Juno whispered, eyes wide.
Orin's face tightened. "He tracked the conduit resonance."
Astra's witness seal under the cloth wrap vibrated, thrilled by proximity.
Astra's interface flickered dimly and then—like a knife sliding into view—another prompt appeared.
Not from the Guild.
Not from the Church.
From the military link.
RECALL CODE: SPOKEN PHRASE REQUIREDPROVIDED BY: CAPTAIN RUSK DAINPHRASE: "DOWN, KAEL."
Astra's blood went ice.
Kael's eyes unfocused for half a heartbeat.
Then his knees trembled.
Not because he wanted to.
Because the Empire had found the simplest command in the world.
Down.
Kael's jaw clenched, rage shaking his breath. "No."
His knees dipped anyway—barely, wrong.
Astra's stomach dropped.
Her earlier write required Kael's spoken yes for voluntary compliance, but this wasn't "compliance" in paperwork terms.
This was motor suggestion.
A different channel. A dirty shortcut.
Kael's breath hitched. He tried to straighten. His legs shook.
Astra grabbed his forearm hard.
"Kael," she snapped. "Look at me."
His eyes snapped to hers—dark, furious, fighting.
Astra's voice went low and intimate, a vow sharpened into a weapon.
"Consent," Astra whispered, "to me anchoring you again."
Kael's breath shuddered. "Yes."
Astra opened handler override.
The button pulsed like a temptation.
She selected the smallest blade.
OVERRIDE ACTION: UPRIGHT STANCE LOCK (KAEL) — 3s
Pain punched through Astra's skull.
Her vision swam.
Kael's body snapped upright, held by ugly law for three seconds.
Three seconds of borrowed dignity.
Astra tasted blood and forced breath in.
Rusk's voice slid through the weak link, satisfied and cruel.
"You can hold him up," Rusk murmured. "But can you keep holding him forever?"
Astra's trace buzzed so hot it felt like she was burning from the inside.
Kael's eyes burned into hers, raw and furious.
His voice came out rough, chosen, human.
"Astra," he said, "don't you dare drop."
The words hit her like heat and a dare she wanted to bite.
Astra almost smiled.
Then the wall behind them shuddered—stone responding to an outside hand, a scar-sigil being forced.
Orin swore. "He's opening it."
Juno raised a disk, trembling.
Astra's interface flickered one last time, cold and absolute:
BREACH IMMINENT — EXTERNAL CONTACT LIKELYTHREAT EXCEPTION: READYHANDLER OVERRIDE: AVAILABLE
Kael's knees trembled again, and this time his voice broke—angry, ashamed, honest.
"Astra," he rasped, "ask me. Tell me what to do."
Astra's throat tightened.
Because the system wanted her to become a handler.
And Kael—Kael was asking her to be one on purpose, under their rules.
Astra stepped closer, breath warm at his jaw, eyes hard.
"Then listen," Astra whispered.
The stone seam cracked, and clean light spilled into the chamber like a blade entering flesh.
The lead Hound stepped through—face calm, crest bright—and spoke the recall phrase in a voice that carried command like gravity.
"Down, Kael."
Kael's knees buckled.
And Astra's handler panel lit up with one clean, terrible option that promised to stop it—
if she was willing to press it.