The sun slipped fully beneath the horizon, and night claimed the city in a slow, careful sweep. Lanterns bloomed along the streets like cautious stars. The palace stood open and bright, but the air around it felt tight, stretched thin by the words that still hung between Alex and the collector.
Choose.
Accept restriction.
Or surrender one bound creation.
The collector did not rush him. It did not raise its staff. It simply waited, a tall figure wrapped in silence, as if time itself had leaned forward to watch.
Alex felt every heartbeat.
Sophia stood at his right, her jaw clenched, shoulders squared. Elena stood to his left, fingers lightly touching a ring of silver light that hovered near her wrist. Luna stood just behind him, close enough that he could feel the warmth of her presence through his back.
None of them spoke.
They did not need to.
Alex's thoughts were loud enough.
If he accepted restriction, the summoning tool would be changed forever. Its limits would be enforced by an external rule, not his own restraint. He would lose flexibility. He would lose options. He might lose the ability to protect them in ways he had grown used to.
But if he refused…
He could not finish that thought.
"Define restriction," Alex said at last, breaking the silence.
The collector inclined its head a fraction. "Limitation protocol will bind the summoning tool to a fixed cadence. Creation, alteration, or expansion may occur only at defined intervals. Excess use will trigger automatic correction."
Elena's breath caught. "Automatic correction means punishment."
"Yes," the collector replied.
Sophia stepped forward half a pace. "And if he accepts?"
"Balance improves," the collector said. "Oversight reduces. Surveillance lessens."
Luna's voice was calm but edged. "And if he refuses?"
The collector turned its mask slightly toward her. "One bound creation will be reclaimed. Chosen by the binder."
The word reclaimed echoed like a crack in stone.
Alex closed his eyes.
He could feel the threads—the tethers—between him and each of them. Not as chains, not as commands, but as shared weight. Shared time. Shared choice. He had never thought of them as items. He still didn't. But the system did not care what he called them.
"Give us a moment," Alex said.
The collector did not respond, but it stepped back one pace, granting a thin slice of space.
They moved a short distance away, just enough that the courtyard sounds softened.
Sophia spoke first. "You know my answer."
Alex nodded. "You'd fight."
"I'd break the staff in half if I could," she said. "But that's not the point. The point is this: if you choose to give one of us up to keep your power flexible, I will never forgive you."
Her eyes were fierce, but not angry. Honest.
Elena followed. "Restriction is dangerous," she said quietly. "But so is dependence. If the tool defines your solutions, you will always reach for it first. Limits force growth."
Luna placed a hand on Alex's shoulder. "Listen to what hurts more," she said. "Not what scares you. Pain tells the truth."
Alex swallowed.
What hurt more?
The idea of losing control over his power made his chest tighten. The idea of being weaker made him afraid. But the idea of choosing one of them to lose—of pointing and saying you—that thought felt like a blade sliding under his ribs.
"I won't choose one of you," he said hoarsely.
Sophia nodded once, satisfied.
Elena's shoulders relaxed slightly.
Luna closed her eyes, relief passing over her face like a shadow lifting.
Alex turned back toward the collector.
"I accept restriction," he said.
The words felt heavy. Permanent.
The collector raised its staff.
"Confirm," it said. "Restriction will alter the tool. Certain functions will be sealed. Others delayed. Emergency overrides will be rare and costly."
"I understand," Alex replied. "Do it."
The staff struck the ground.
The summoning tool burned in Alex's chest like a star collapsing. He cried out, dropping to one knee as symbols exploded behind his eyes. Lines of light wrapped around his arms, his spine, his heart. He felt something close, like doors slamming shut inside him.
Not gone.
Restricted.
The tool emerged in his hand without being called, its surface changed. Where once it had flowed and shifted easily, now clear markings divided it into segments. A faint ticking sound echoed from it, slow and steady.
A timer.
Luna knelt beside him. "Alex."
"I'm okay," he gasped. "It just… hurts."
Elena studied the tool closely. "They've imposed a rule structure. Usage windows. Recovery periods."
Sophia helped Alex to his feet. "You stood your ground."
The collector lowered its staff.
"Restriction accepted," it said. "Balance improved."
The other collectors shifted subtly. Some of the pressure lifted, like a storm easing without fully breaking.
But the collector was not finished.
"Trial one concludes," it said. "Trial two prepares."
Alex stiffened. "There's another?"
"Yes," the collector replied. "Balance is not restored in a single measure."
Elena frowned. "Then why give us a day's grace?"
"To observe adaptation," the collector said. "And to test resilience under loss."
Sophia's eyes narrowed. "You already took something."
"Yes," the collector said evenly. "And now we watch what grows in its absence."
The collector turned away and rejoined the others. Slowly, deliberately, they began to withdraw—moving to the edges of the city, to rooftops, to unseen points beyond the walls.
They were not leaving.
They were repositioning.
Night deepened.
Inside the palace, exhaustion settled like dust after a collapse. The people they had sheltered slept in safe corners. Healers worked quietly. Guards rotated shifts. The palace no longer felt like a stage—it felt like a living thing, breathing through effort.
Alex sat alone in the strategy chamber, the summoning tool resting on the table before him.
He reached for it, then stopped.
The timer glowed faintly.
"Still thinking about it?" Elena asked, stepping inside.
"Yes," Alex admitted. "It feels… smaller."
"Different," she corrected. "Not smaller."
Sophia leaned against the doorway. "You're not used to limits."
Alex laughed weakly. "That's one way to say it."
Luna entered last, closing the door softly. "Limits reveal habits," she said. "What you reach for without thinking."
Alex nodded. "I reached for the tool because it was easy."
"And now?" Luna asked.
"Now I have to plan," he said. "I have to ask for help."
Sophia smiled. "Good."
Elena pulled a chair and sat. "The collectors will escalate," she said. "Restriction won't satisfy them forever."
Alex looked up. "What do you mean?"
"They're measuring something deeper now," Elena replied. "Not how much you use. Not what you give. But whether you can change."
Luna's eyes darkened. "They will test leadership next."
Alex leaned back, rubbing his face. "I didn't ask to be a leader."
"No one ever does," Sophia said. "They become one when people follow."
A distant sound rolled through the city then—low, hollow, and unfamiliar. It was not a bell. It was not a horn. It felt like stone shifting far underground.
Elena stood abruptly. "That's not the collectors."
Sophia straightened. "Then what is it?"
Luna's voice was tight. "Something responding to the change."
Alex felt the summoning tool vibrate once, sharply.
New text burned across its surface.
NOTICE:
EXTERNAL ENTITY DETECTED
STATUS: UNREGISTERED
THREAT CLASS: UNKNOWN
Alex's blood ran cold.
The walls trembled faintly. Somewhere far beyond the city, something answered the collectors' presence—not as an enforcer, but as a challenger.
Elena whispered, "The balance attracted a predator."
Sophia grinned grimly. "Good. Let it come."
Alex stared at the warning, heart pounding.
Restriction had closed doors—but it had also lit a signal.
The world was no longer just watching him.
It was responding.
And whatever was coming did not care about rules.