The pain didn't arrive all at once.
It seeped in.
Arjun noticed it first as resistance—a subtle drag in his movements when he walked the perimeter at dawn. The territory felt different now. Not quieter, not calmer. Organized. The pressure that had once pushed outward indiscriminately now flowed through channels he could sense but didn't yet fully understand.
That awareness came with a price.
He felt everyone.
Not in detail—not thoughts or emotions—but strain. Fatigue. Fear. Hunger. Resolve. Each person within the Anchor field added a faint weight, like a finger resting against his spine.
By the time the sun dragged itself over the broken skyline, his shoulders ached as if he'd been carrying something heavy all night.
Nyxara watched him closely.
"You're bleeding energy," she said.
"I'm fine," Arjun replied automatically.
She snorted. "You're lying badly."
He stopped near the eastern barricade and leaned against a concrete slab, exhaling slowly. The ache sharpened as soon as he paused, like his body had been waiting for permission to complain.
The phone buzzed.
CONDUIT FEEDBACK: ACTIVE
LOAD DISTRIBUTION: UNOPTIMIZED
PHYSICAL STRAIN: MODERATE
Arjun frowned. "Load distribution?"
Nyxara folded her arms. "You opened yourself as a channel without learning how to regulate flow. Right now, you're absorbing excess stress instead of redirecting it."
"So I'm… what, a sponge?"
She smiled thinly. "A poorly designed one."
Below them, the territory was already awake. Patrols rotated. Supplies were inventoried. The new arrivals from the previous day clustered together, watching everything with the hyper-alert caution of people who'd learned how quickly safety evaporated.
Arjun felt them notice him.
Every glance added a fraction of weight.
He straightened instinctively, even though it made his back scream.
"Stop," Nyxara said sharply.
He turned to her. "What?"
"You're bracing against it," she said. "That makes it worse."
"Then what am I supposed to do?"
She stepped closer, voice lower now. "You stop carrying what isn't yours."
Arjun stared at her. "That's easy to say."
"Yes," she agreed. "That's why most Conduits fail."
The first collapse happened before noon.
It wasn't dramatic.
No monsters. No alarms.
Just Marcus dropping to one knee mid-sentence during a perimeter briefing, breath leaving him in a sharp, strangled gasp.
Arjun felt it like a hook buried under his ribs.
He staggered as the Conduit field reacted—spiking hard, overcompensating.
Nyxara swore. "There."
Arjun was already moving, forcing his legs to carry him despite the sudden tremor running through them.
Marcus sat on the ground now, gasping, eyes unfocused. Someone shouted for water. Another called for the infirmary.
Arjun knelt in front of him. "Marcus. Look at me."
Marcus tried—and failed—to focus. "Feels like… something's sitting on my chest."
Nyxara crouched beside them, eyes glowing brighter. "Anchor resonance overload. His stress spiked. You absorbed it instead of routing it away."
Arjun clenched his teeth. "How do I fix it?"
"You don't," she said. "You redirect."
She pressed her palm to Arjun's sternum.
"Let it flow through," she instructed. "Not into you. Past you."
Arjun closed his eyes.
The bond flared—not violently, but insistently. He felt the pressure then, not as pain but as traffic. Emotional load, fear, fatigue—moving toward him because he'd made himself the easiest route.
He imagined opening gates instead of walls.
The pressure shifted.
Marcus inhaled sharply, chest rising fully for the first time since collapsing.
The phone chimed.
CONDUIT REDIRECTION: SUCCESSFUL (MINOR)
LEARNING RATE: INCREASING
Arjun opened his eyes, drenched in sweat. His knees nearly gave out.
Nyxara steadied him without comment.
Marcus looked up, shaken. "What… what just happened?"
Arjun hesitated.
"You had a panic spike," he said carefully. "I helped stabilize it."
Marcus stared at him, realization dawning slowly. "You didn't just help me."
Arjun said nothing.
Marcus swallowed. "You felt it."
Nyxara watched the exchange intently.
The seed of understanding had been planted.
The second cost arrived with anger.
Not his own.
It hit him in a wave mid-afternoon—sharp, sudden, and corrosive. Arjun nearly dropped his rifle as rage surged through him, unearned and overwhelming.
He braced against a wall, breathing hard.
Nyxara appeared instantly. "That's not yours," she said.
"I know," he growled. "So whose is it?"
She tilted her head, listening to the bond. "Sector C. Two survivors. Argument turned violent."
The phone confirmed it.
EMOTIONAL SURGE DETECTED
SOURCE: HUMAN CONFLICT
CONDUIT OVERFLOW: ACTIVE
Arjun pushed off the wall and headed toward the source, teeth clenched.
By the time he reached Sector C, the argument had escalated. Two men stood squared off, weapons half-raised, voices hoarse with fury. Others hovered nearby, unsure whether to intervene.
Arjun stepped between them without raising his voice.
"Enough."
Both men froze.
Not because of authority.
Because the air around Arjun shifted.
The Conduit field flared—not aggressively, but absorptively. The anger bleeding off the men washed into Arjun like acid.
His vision blurred.
Nyxara cursed under her breath. "You're taking too much."
"I've got it," Arjun said through clenched teeth.
"No, you don't," she snapped. "You're not meant to carry raw emotion directly."
The phone vibrated violently.
WARNING
CONDUIT OVERLOAD: ESCALATING
PSYCHOLOGICAL STRAIN: HIGH
Arjun forced himself to breathe.
He remembered what Nyxara had said earlier.
Open gates. Don't build walls.
He didn't suppress the anger.
He guided it.
The pressure shifted again—this time flowing outward, dispersing into the territory itself, diffusing like heat through stone.
The men staggered back, confusion replacing rage.
"What… what were we even fighting about?" one muttered.
The tension evaporated.
Arjun collapsed to one knee.
Nyxara was beside him instantly, gripping his shoulders hard. "You're not invincible," she said fiercely. "You can't keep doing that."
"I have to," he rasped. "That's what I chose."
She met his gaze, eyes burning. "No. You chose to direct. Not to self-destruct."
The distinction mattered.
Arjun nodded weakly.
The phone chimed.
CONDUIT CONTROL: IMPROVED (MODERATE)
WARNING: CUMULATIVE STRAIN DETECTED
That night, Arjun couldn't stand.
Not from injury—from exhaustion that went deeper than muscle or bone.
He sat on the floor of the same half-collapsed building, back against the wall, head bowed. The territory hummed around him, quieter now, steadier—but the cost echoed through his body like a lingering ache.
Nyxara knelt in front of him.
"You're doing this wrong," she said softly.
He laughed weakly. "You said that already."
She shook her head. "No. I said you were doing it inefficiently. This is different."
She reached out—not touching him, but hovering her hand inches from his chest.
"You're treating the Conduit like a burden," she continued. "Like something you endure."
"What else is it?" he asked.
She leaned closer, voice dropping. "It's a network. And you're insisting on being the only node."
Arjun frowned despite the haze. "Then what should I be?"
Her eyes locked onto his.
"A hub," she said.
The bond pulsed, reacting to the idea.
"Anchors who survive as Conduits don't carry everything themselves," Nyxara continued. "They distribute. They empower others. They delegate strain."
Arjun closed his eyes. "That sounds dangerous."
"It is," she agreed. "Giving people power always is."
He opened his eyes again. "And if they misuse it?"
Nyxara smiled, sharp and honest. "Then you learn who they really are."
The phone vibrated softly, as if listening.
CONDUIT SUBFUNCTION: DELEGATION
STATUS: LOCKED (REQUIRES TRUST EVENT)
Arjun stared at the screen.
"Trust," he murmured. "That's the requirement."
Nyxara stood and turned toward the doorway, wings rustling faintly. "Welcome to the part of leadership you can't solve with force."
Outside, the territory slept—uneasy, fragile, but alive.
Arjun leaned his head back against the wall, exhaustion pulling at him from every direction.
He'd chosen the Conduit path to avoid becoming a tyrant or a monument.
Now he understood the truth.
He'd chosen to become responsible for other people's weight.
And that weight was only going to grow.