The door swung inward.
Lanternlight cut a pale bar across the floor. Cold air rushed in like a verdict. Astra's legs tried to move on their own—toward the opening, toward the pull in her throat that wasn't desire at all.
RETURN.
It lived in her bones now, a command wrapped around her spine.
Three Imperial Hounds stood in the corridor.
Not district muscle. Not Guild clerks in grey robes.
These men wore black leather and Dominion discipline. Their wrist-crests burned with a steady, controlled glow. Their faces were blank the way trained killers learned to be—no hate, no pleasure, no hesitation. Only function.
The one in front lifted his chin at Kael. "Hound Raithe."
His voice was calm. That calm was a weapon.
"Step aside," he added, eyes sliding to Astra's throat. "We're here to recover the subject."
Astra felt the collar tighten, tugging her forward like a hook sunk under the skin. Her knees locked, then unlocked. Her body began to take a step.
Kael's hand closed on her shoulder, anchoring her. Not harsh. Not gentle. Absolute.
"Don't fight it," he'd said.
So Astra didn't.
She let the collar believe it owned her feet.
And while her body tried to obey, her mind reached for the only thing she could still choose.
The stolen word sitting in the Ghost slot.
STOP.
Lyra's whisper curled in her ear like smoke. "Make your choice, glitch."
Astra's vision flared. The interface flashed so bright it turned the corridor into a white-edged cutout.
GHOST COMMAND: RELEASE AVAILABLESTORED ORDER: STOPSYSTEM NOTE: RELEASE WILL INCREASE TRACE
Astra's throat burned. The pull in her spine tightened. Her legs wanted the door.
Kael's fingers dug into her shoulder—warning, grounding.
Astra inhaled once. Slow. Steady.
Then she released the stored order.
The air cracked.
Not with sound—with authority.
Astra didn't hear Kael's voice this time.
She felt it, replicated and weaponized, sliding out of her collar and into the corridor like a blade thrown with perfect aim.
"Stop."
The front Hound froze mid-breath.
So did the second.
So did the third.
Their bodies locked as if the world itself had issued the command. Their eyes stayed awake, furious behind discipline, but their muscles obeyed something older and crueler than will.
Astra's interface screamed.
TRACE: 6.8%AUDIT STATUS: ACTIVEWARNING: BROADCAST SIGNATURE DETECTED
Pain hit her like a fist, delayed by just enough time for triumph to exist. Six seconds of grace—then the crest collected.
Her knees buckled.
Kael caught her before she fell, one arm around her ribs. He moved in the same breath, dragging her back into the room while the frozen Hounds stood like statues in the doorway.
He didn't waste the gift.
His elbow snapped into the first man's throat—hard, clean, nonlethal. The Hound crumpled as the command released. Kael pivoted, drove the second man into the wall with a shoulder strike, and clipped the third behind the knee, dropping him with ruthless efficiency.
Astra watched through the white haze of pain, half on her feet, half in Kael's grip.
Violence wasn't loud in Kael.
It was tidy.
But the flare had done its damage.
Outside, in the corridor beyond the fallen Hounds, more boots answered.
Fast. Many. Coordinated.
Lyra swore softly, the first real emotion Astra had heard from her. "You lit the whole district."
Astra's throat felt raw enough to bleed. "I know."
Kael's eyes snapped to Astra's face. Not anger—calculation, fear sharpened into focus.
"They'll track that release," he said.
Astra forced herself upright, even as the collar's pain climbed her spine like fire. "Then we move."
Kael's jaw flexed. "Now."
He grabbed the map-slate and shoved it into his coat. Lyra was already at the far wall, pulling a hanging cloth aside to reveal a narrow service hatch—old stone, old sigils, old secrets.
"The underway," she said. "Before the ward collapses."
Kael glanced at the ward glyph near the door. Its light was thinning, stressed by the broadcast Astra had just shoved through it.
Astra's interface flickered again.
WARNING: WARD INTEGRITY: FAILINGRECALL TRIGGER: ACTIVESOURCE: MARQUIS DORIAN VEYRNCOMMAND: RETURN
Her legs twitched.
The collar reminded her who had named her.
Astra's breath hitched.
Kael's hand closed around her wrist. "Eyes on me."
His voice was low, intimate in its command. Astra hated how her body responded to it—how the same tone could feel like protection and possession, depending on who was listening.
She lifted her gaze.
Kael held it. "Don't resist. Walk like you're obeying me."
Astra swallowed. "I am obeying you."
Lyra snorted. "Gods, you two are going to get me killed."
Kael shot her a look. "Open it."
Lyra pushed the hatch. Stone shifted with a grinding sigh. Blackness yawned beneath it—stairs down into the city's throat.
The first heavy knock hit the safe room door.
Then another.
Then a voice, colder than the corridor Hounds.
"Hound Raithe. Open. Dominion authority."
Kael didn't answer.
He shoved Astra toward the hatch. Not rough—urgent. Astra went willingly, the collar tugging her toward the other door while Kael redirected her body like he was steering a carriage away from a cliff.
Lyra went down first, lantern in hand. Its flame was hooded and dirty, like the undercity itself.
Astra stepped onto the first stair.
Her collar flared, furious at the direction change. The compulsion yanked.
Astra didn't fight it.
She let her body try to go toward the recall while Kael's grip guided her down instead, as if Kael's custody was the path of least resistance.
It wasn't rebellion.
It was misdirection.
The safe room door cracked under the next удар.
Kael plunged down after Astra, slammed the hatch, and shoved the bar across it.
Above them, the door burst.
Boots stormed in.
Voices snapped orders.
Light spilled through the cracks.
Lyra's lantern bobbed as she hurried down the stairs. "Keep moving. There are splits. Don't take the wrong one or you'll end up in a drain full of bones."
Astra forced her feet to follow.
The underways smelled of wet stone and old incense. Sigils were carved into the walls—faded, half-scraped, like someone had tried to erase the city's secret arteries.
Kael stayed behind Astra, one hand always on her—wrist, elbow, shoulder—never lingering, never careless. Constant contact, constant control. He moved like a man who knew if he lost her for even one breath, she would be gone.
And Astra knew the same.
Behind them, the hatch shuddered under impact.
The ward above failed with a soft, dying hiss.
Astra's interface stuttered.
TRACE: 7.3%AUDIT: LOCKING ROUTES…BROADCAST SIGNATURE: ACTIVE
Heat surged behind her eyes. Not tears—just pain collecting interest.
Lyra turned left at a junction where three tunnels branched like veins.
"This way," she said.
Kael didn't question her. That alone told Astra the stakes. He didn't like trusting. He just disliked dying more.
Astra's legs faltered as the recall command pulsed again.
RETURN.
Her throat tightened.
Her body wanted to pivot, to run back up the stairs, to walk into Dorian's hands with polite obedience.
Astra bit her tongue hard enough to taste blood.
Pain—her own, chosen—anchored her better than fear.
Kael leaned close, mouth near her ear. "Keep breathing."
His breath grazed her skin. Astra shivered—half from pain, half from the intimate proximity of him in the dark.
Lyra glanced back and rolled her eyes. "If you're going to flirt, do it after we're not being hunted."
Astra's laugh came out broken. "Who's flirting?"
Lyra's smile flashed in the lantern's weak light. "The one with her throat tilted up like she's offering a bite."
Kael's hand tightened on Astra's wrist.
Not possessive. Not gentle.
Warning.
Astra didn't look back, but she felt his restraint like a living thing around them. It irritated her. It thrilled her. It made her want to test boundaries just to prove she still had them.
They ran.
Footsteps echoed behind them—Hounds entering the underways. Their bootfalls were distinct: heavy soles, steady cadence, no wasted motion.
Kael whispered to Lyra. "How far to the split ward?"
Lyra didn't slow. "Two turns. Then a drop."
"Drop?" Astra rasped.
Lyra glanced back. "If you can't fall, you die. Simple."
Astra forced air into her lungs. The collar burned and tugged. The interface flickered. The trace number crawled upward like a slow, inevitable infection.
They hit a low archway. Lyra ducked. Astra followed—and her shoulder clipped the stone. Pain flared down her arm. Her collar punished her for clumsiness as if the world itself were her fault.
Astra hissed.
The collar did not care.
Kael's hand slid to the small of her back to steady her, palm warm through the cloak. Astra's body reacted before her mind did—spine tightening, breath catching.
Kael felt it. Of course he did.
His touch went still for a heartbeat, then moved away like he was stepping back from a flame.
Astra hated that reaction more than the pain.
Hated that he could deny himself in a way she couldn't afford.
They turned again.
Lyra halted at a rusted grate set into the floor—half hidden under old cloth and broken brick. She yanked it free with practiced strength.
Below was darkness.
A deep, breathless shaft that swallowed lanternlight.
Lyra swung her legs over the edge. "Down."
Astra peered.
Her stomach dropped.
She wasn't afraid of falling.
She was afraid of the collar deciding to correct her midair.
Kael stepped in beside her. "I go last," he said. "You first."
Astra swallowed. "That's an order?"
Kael's eyes flicked to her mouth, then away. "Yes."
Astra's pulse stumbled.
The collar liked orders. It loved authority.
And Astra—traitorous, human—liked the way Kael gave them like he was trying to keep her alive rather than owned.
She swung her legs over the edge.
The drop wasn't a ladder. It was iron rungs bolted into stone, slick with moisture. Astra gripped them, fingers shaking.
Her collar flared.
The recall command pulsed again. Harder.
RETURN.
Her arms tensed. Her legs wanted to climb up, not down.
Astra didn't fight. She simply moved as if descending was part of returning—choosing the direction while giving the command the illusion of compliance.
She went down.
Lyra landed first, boots splashing in shallow water. She lifted the lantern, revealing a tunnel that sloped away into deeper dark.
Astra reached the bottom, knees wobbling.
Kael dropped next, silent and precise. He landed, then immediately looked up—listening for the pursuit above.
Footsteps struck the stone above them. Voices. A clatter at the grate.
Lyra hissed, "Move!"
They ran again, water splashing around their ankles. The tunnel narrowed. The air turned colder, denser, laced with something metallic.
Kael's hand found Astra's wrist again. His fingers were iron.
"Stay with me," he said.
Astra's laugh was thin. "Jealous of Lyra stealing me?"
Lyra called over her shoulder, "Please. I steal things that are profitable."
Kael didn't respond, but his grip tightened. Not ownership. Refusal.
Astra's collar tugged forward. Return, return, return.
Astra's interface flickered.
AUDIT: ROUTE LOCK IMMINENTRECALL TRIGGER: PERSISTENTTRACE: 8.2%
Her vision blurred at the edges. Not fainting—overload. Too much system. Too much pain. Too much running.
Lyra slowed at a section where the tunnel widened into a circular chamber. The walls here were carved with older sigils—different style than Dominion ones. Sharper. Less decorative.
Underchain marks.
Lyra swept her lantern over them like greeting old friends.
"This chamber is shielded," she said. "Not enough, but enough to breathe."
Kael didn't relax. He pressed Astra back into the shadow of a pillar, positioning his body between her and the tunnel mouth.
"Breathe," he ordered again.
Astra leaned into the stone, chest heaving. The collar's burn dulled by a fraction, like the underchain glyphs interfered with the signal.
She tasted relief like a drug.
Lyra leaned on her knees, catching her breath with theatrical patience. "Well. That was dramatic."
Kael's eyes stayed on the tunnel. "They'll keep coming."
Lyra's gaze cut to Astra's throat. "Of course they will. She broadcasted Kael's authority like a hymn."
Astra swallowed hard. "It worked."
"It worked," Lyra agreed. "And it told every crest in a mile radius that something impossible just happened."
Kael finally looked at Astra. His gaze was sharp, assessing the damage—sweat on her lip, pallor under her skin, the tremor in her hands.
"You're shaking," he said.
Astra forced a smile. "I'm fine."
Kael's eyes narrowed. "Don't lie."
Something in his tone—a rare edge—made Astra's stomach tighten with heat instead of fear.
She lifted her chin. "Then don't ask questions you already know the answer to."
Lyra's brows lifted. "Oh, I hate how good that was."
Kael ignored her, stepping closer to Astra. He raised his hand again—stopping inches from Astra's throat, hovering over the fresh sigil like he was about to touch a live wire.
He paused.
Waiting.
Always waiting.
Consent in a cage, Lyra had mocked.
Astra's pulse jumped. "You're asking."
Kael's voice was low. "Yes."
Astra's breath caught. She nodded once—small, clear.
Kael touched the edge of the crest.
Two fingers. Gentle. Controlled.
The contact was a shock that went far deeper than skin. The collar's burn flared, then softened under his touch, like his authority soothed what Dorian's recall was tearing apart.
Astra hated the relief. It felt too much like surrender.
Kael murmured, "How bad."
Astra swallowed. "Bad enough."
Lyra straightened, face suddenly less amused. "If her trace keeps climbing, the audit will hard-lock her. After that, the collar stops bargaining."
Astra's interface flickered at the word bargaining.
RULESET (VIEW ONLY)— Audit escalation reduces loophole tolerance.— Persistent anomalies trigger containment.