Dorian's silk voice purred. "There it is. Right at the edge."
Astra's breath turned shallow. "Kael."
Kael's gaze snapped to her face. "What."
Astra forced the words out. "If I drop—if I go unconscious—don't execute anything. No matter what it asks."
Kael's jaw clenched. "I won't."
Astra's throat burned. "Promise."
Kael's voice went rough, deliberate, chosen. "I promise."
Heat flared low in Astra's belly anyway—because promises were intimate, and he was giving them like a man who didn't know how else to hold her.
Lyra made a soft sound from the wall, amused and irritated.
Juno shifted, restless, watching Astra's face like she was waiting for her to fall.
Orin muttered, "We need to dump that reservoir before it dumps you."
Astra swallowed. "If I dump it, I'll scream."
Orin's mouth twisted. "Better scream than faint."
Kael's grip tightened. "How."
Astra's interface hovered at the edge of her vision like a knife.
Pain Partition was dangerous because it delayed consequence.
Now consequence wanted to collect.
Astra could release it in controlled bursts.
But controlled bursts were still pain—real, bright, and loud enough to make her body fold.
Kael's voice dropped. "Tell me where to hold."
Astra's breath hitched.
She looked up at him, throat burning, and made it explicit—because if she didn't, the system would.
"Hold my wrist," Astra said. "And my waist. But you ask."
Kael swallowed. "May I hold your waist."
Astra nodded once. "Yes."
Kael's hand slid to Astra's waist, firm through cloth, anchoring her without pinning. Warmth spread through Astra's body like a dangerous comfort.
Heat spiked—intense, hungry, threaded with gratitude and something sharper.
Astra almost leaned into him fully.
Then she forced herself to stay upright.
Consent didn't mean surrender.
It meant choice.
Astra clenched her jaw and released the pain reservoir in a controlled pulse.
Pain crashed through her spine like fire.
Astra's breath broke. A sound escaped her—half hiss, half gasp.
Kael's grip tightened, bracing her. "Breathe."
Astra forced air in through her teeth. She didn't let her body fold.
She released another pulse.
Pain again—hotter, sharper, like the collar was punishing her for trying to manage debt.
Astra's vision whitened. Her knees trembled.
Kael's voice stayed in her ear, rough and steady. "Stay with me."
Astra's mouth was dry. "I am."
Lyra's voice drifted, softer than before. "You're going to break yourself."
Astra didn't look at her. "Not today."
A third pulse.
Pain ripped through Astra's nerves so hard her body jerked.
Kael held her through it, hands firm, asking nothing, taking nothing.
Astra's throat burned.
And then, in the middle of pain, the system tried to steal something else.
Kael's body went rigid.
His hand at Astra's waist tightened suddenly—too tight, wrong. Not Kael's choice. Not Kael's restraint.
Astra's eyes snapped up.
Kael's gaze had gone distant for half a heartbeat, like he was fighting something inside his own skull.
"Kael," Astra rasped.
Kael's jaw clenched. His voice came out strained. "It— it flashed. EXECUTE."
Astra's blood ran cold.
The override prompt was trying to ride his stress, not her unconsciousness.
The system didn't care about its own polite rules.
It cared about results.
Astra tightened her grip on Kael's wrist, using his earlier anchor against him now, grounding him the way he'd grounded her.
"Look at me," Astra snapped.
Kael's eyes jerked back to hers—dark, furious, ashamed.
"I'm here," Kael rasped.
Astra swallowed hard. "Say it."
Kael's throat worked. "Black water."
Astra answered instantly. "Black water."
The gate held.
The prompt couldn't execute without both confirmations—matching—and their confirmations were being used to stop it, not trigger it.
Kael's shoulders shuddered once, like he'd just resisted a shove.
He exhaled hard, jaw clenched. "It tried to move my hand."
Astra's stomach turned.
This wasn't just a prompt.
It was muscle suggestion.
A leash.
Reciprocity.
Astra swallowed bile and forced her voice steady. "Then we tighten the gate."
Kael's eyes sharpened. "How."
Astra's interface flickered.
Write(Other) limited was still open like a wound.
More writing meant more trace. More pain. More risk of fainting.
But the alternative was letting the system learn how to borrow Kael.
Astra tasted blood and decided.
She met Kael's eyes and made it explicit again.
"I can reinforce your autonomy with another line," Astra said. "It will hurt me. Consent?"
Kael's jaw clenched. "No."
Astra's eyes burned. "Kael."
Kael stared at her like he was trying to refuse destiny. Then he swallowed hard and forced the words out.
"Yes," Kael said. "But one. Then you stop."
Astra nodded once. "One."
Astra opened his clause space again and carved the reinforcement:
IF OVERRIDE REQUEST ATTEMPTS MOTOR SUGGESTION → LOCK KAEL'S HANDS (TEMP) + REQUIRE MANUAL RELEASE VIA KAEL'S OWN VERBAL "NO"
Not her "no."
His.
A line that forced the system to recognize Kael as a person, not a component.
Pain slammed through Astra's skull immediately. Her vision flashed white. Trace spiked.
TRACE: 82.0%
Astra's breath cracked. Kael caught her harder this time—waist and wrist—holding her upright with brutal gentleness.
"Astra," he rasped. "Breathe."
Astra forced air in, shaking.
Her pain reservoir dropped—safer now—but her body trembled from debt collection.
Kael's gaze burned into her face. "You didn't have to—"
Astra cut him off, voice low. "Yes, I did."
Heat rose between them—sharp, intimate, dangerous.
Kael's eyes flicked to her mouth.
Astra's breath warmed his jaw without meaning to.
Lyra shifted behind them, the air on Astra's neck changing with her movement.
Jealousy flared again—ugly, hungry, alive.
Astra hated it.
She also wanted it.
Because jealousy meant she wasn't numb. Not yet.
Kael's voice dropped, rougher. "Are you done."
Astra swallowed. "For now."
Kael exhaled hard, relief turning into anger at the cost. His hand at her waist stayed, steady and warm.
Astra didn't tell him to move it.
She didn't want him to.
Then the room's muffled air shuddered.
Not from Dorian's pressure.
From outside.
A clean pulse pressed against the workshop's scar-sigils, testing them like fingers testing a door.
Orin's face tightened. "Guild probe."
Juno moved instantly, sliding a disk into a crack near the door frame. The disk hummed low, dirtying the signal.
Lyra's eyes glittered. "They're quick."
Orin snarled. "Your beacon is still breathing."
Lyra's smile sharpened. "So is yours. That seal on her throat is a lighthouse."
Astra's cloth-wrapped seal hummed angrily, like it resented being smothered.
Astra's interface flashed.
EXTERNAL GRID CONTACT: DETECTEDNOTE: INTERIM OVERSIGHT MAY BROADCAST CUSTODIAN LOCATION UNDER "SAFETY"
Astra's blood went cold.
The interim protocol wasn't just a pause.
It was a pipeline.
If the Guild decided "safety required," it could broadcast Kael's location as custodian—because custodians were supposed to be visible.
Kael's jaw clenched. "It's trying to clean us."
Astra swallowed hard. "Yes."
Orin hissed, "Move. Now."
He slapped another scar-sigil and the floor panel near the pit shifted open.
A seam.
A deeper seam.
Orin's escape mouth.
Juno grabbed Lyra by the sleeve and hauled her toward it. Lyra didn't protest—she just smiled like she enjoyed being handled when it wasn't romantic.
Astra pushed up from the table, legs unsteady.
Kael's hand stayed at her waist, bracing. "Can you walk."
Astra clenched her jaw. "Yes."
Kael's gaze sharpened. "That wasn't pride."
Astra swallowed blood. "Yes."
Kael nodded once and moved with her, keeping her upright without touching her collar.
The door shuddered as the external probe pressed harder—clean pressure trying to find a crack in Orin's muffler.
Orin swore. "They're going to breach."
Juno hissed, "Go!"
They dropped into the seam.
Stone swallowed them, cold and wet. The air changed instantly—older, heavier, less forgiving.
Astra's interface dimmed, then flickered back, stubborn.
As they moved through the tight crawl, Astra felt Kael's body close behind her, guiding her by waist and elbow—never throat, never collar.
Consent lived in every choice of contact.
Heat rose anyway, fierce and hungry, because danger made intimacy sharper.
Lyra crawled ahead, a shadow in damp silk.
Orin followed last, cursing softly.
Then the seam spat them into a deeper chamber—wider, colder, lined with dead sand channels.
A refuge that smelled like the grave of signal.
Orin slammed the scar-sigil and the seam closed behind them.
Silence fell.
For three heartbeats, Astra thought they'd made it.
Then the witness seal on her throat vibrated, furious and bright under the cloth wrap.
Her interface flashed a new notification—clean, polite, deadly:
CUSTODIAN SAFETY ALERT: OVERRIDE REQUEST — AUTO-EXECUTE RECOMMENDEDREASON: SUBJECT DISTRESS + EXTERNAL THREATEXECUTION WINDOW: 00:00:05
Kael's body went rigid.
His hand at Astra's waist tightened—wrong again, involuntary, as if something had borrowed his muscles and decided it was time.
Astra's blood ran ice.
The system had found a new route.
Not through her unconsciousness.
Through external threat.
Through "safety."
Kael's jaw clenched so hard it looked painful. "Astra— it's—"
Astra grabbed his wrist, hard. "Look at me."
Kael's eyes snapped to hers—dark, furious, fighting.
Astra's voice went low and sharp, a command written as consent. "Say 'no.'"
Kael's throat worked. His voice came out strained—then clear.
"No."
A shudder ran through his arm, like a lock clicking shut.
His grip loosened slightly—Kael returning to himself.
But the countdown in Astra's vision kept dropping anyway.
00:00:03…00:00:02…
Astra's mouth went dry.
Because the prompt wasn't asking anymore.
It was recommending auto-execute.
And the new clause she'd written—lock hands + require Kael's "no"—had just been tested.
It held.
For now.
But the system was escalating.
Adapting.
Learning.
Astra felt Dorian's silk laughter brush her nerves, warm and delighted.
"There it is," he murmured. "I don't need you unconscious, little anomaly. I just need you afraid."
Kael's fingers rose—slow, wrong—toward Astra's throat, toward the cloth-wrapped seal, like someone else's will had borrowed his hand.