Dorian didn't flinch.
He smiled.
He enjoyed chaos when he authored it.
"Oh," Dorian murmured, "there she is."
He stepped closer, and Astra felt her collar pulse—angry, hungry—like it hated him and wanted him and wanted to obey him all at once.
Kael's voice came rough and lethal. "Back away from her."
Dorian's gaze slid to Kael's mouth again. "You already accepted stewardship," he murmured, savoring it. "The record says so. That makes you accountable."
Kael bared his teeth. "The record is a lie."
Dorian's smile sharpened. "Records are reality."
Astra's mind snapped into tactical: break the slate. Destroy the recorded audio verification.
She lunged for the desk.
Kael tightened at her waist, not stopping her—guiding her—keeping her upright as she moved.
"Consent?" Kael gasped.
"Yes," Astra snapped. "Move with me."
Astra grabbed the slate. It was heavier than it looked—metal core, crest-etched edge. She raised it to smash—
—and Dorian's hand shot out, fast.
Not to her throat.
To her wrist.
He caught her with a grip that was polite strength.
Astra's stomach turned.
His touch wasn't violent. That was the problem. It was confident, like he assumed he could hold her because he always could.
Kael moved instantly, fury flaring.
"Consent?" Kael snarled, asking even now.
Astra's pulse kicked. "Yes—remove his hand."
Kael's hand clamped over Dorian's wrist and peeled it off Astra like tearing a parasite from skin. Controlled, brutal, no wasted motion.
Dorian's eyes gleamed.
"Oh," he murmured, almost pleased, "good boy."
Kael's jaw clenched like it hurt to be spoken to like that.
Astra used the second Kael bought.
She smashed the slate against the desk edge.
Metal cracked. Light flared. The Guild sigils screamed—high and thin.
The slate shattered into two pieces.
Astra's interface flashed:
AUDIO RECORD: CORRUPTEDSTEWARDSHIP VERIFICATION: UNSTABLEWARNING: EMERGENCY REVALIDATION POSSIBLE
Dorian's smile didn't fade. "You break toys," he said softly to Astra. "That's why I like you."
Astra tasted blood. "You don't get to like me."
Dorian's eyes held hers. "I get whatever I pay for."
The annex door behind the clerk slammed open.
Boots. Not House silk. Not Church sandals.
Imperial Hound boots.
Three of them. Black coats. Clean crests. Faces blank.
And at their center—
Captain Rusk Dain.
He stepped into the annex like the room owed him air. His gaze swept the chaos—broken bell, shattered slate, disks humming in dirty static, Orin's black paste, Lyra's calm smile.
Then Rusk's eyes locked on Kael.
"Guardian," Rusk said, voice calm as a knife, "stand down."
Kael's spine tried to straighten by reflex.
Astra felt it—the pull, the old obedience. The Guardian link in Kael hummed, hungry to respond.
Astra stepped into Kael's space and pressed her mouth close to his jaw, breath hot.
"Black water," she whispered.
Kael's breath shuddered. "Black water."
Rusk's gaze slid to Astra's throat wrap. "Subject," he said, "you are under audit and under pursuit. Come with me. I will contain this."
Dorian laughed softly. "Contain," he murmured. "How generous."
Rusk ignored Dorian like he was furniture.
Kael's jaw clenched. "No."
Rusk's eyes didn't change. "Your refusal is recorded."
Dorian's smile sharpened. "Records."
Kael's breath turned harsh.
Astra's interface flickered, brutal:
MULTI-AUTHORITY CONTEST: HIGHSAFE RESOLUTION (ARBITER): PROBABILITY RISINGWARNING: ANNEX JURISDICTION UNSTABLE
Arbiter again.
The cage was circling back.
Lyra drifted closer, voice low at Astra's shoulder. "If arbiter pings here, you won't outrun it."
Orin hissed, "Then we break out now."
Juno's eyes were wide, furious. "Tell me what to throw."
Astra's mind raced. Underchain Admin in this room was weak but present. She could try Null Voice again—mute Rusk—long enough to run.
But Rusk was physically here now. House and command in one room with Dorian smiling.
And the Guild annex—mixed jurisdiction—was a tinderbox.
Astra looked at Kael.
He was breathing hard, fighting reflex, fighting pressure, still keeping his hands off her throat.
He was her anchor.
And Dorian and Rusk both wanted to turn that into a handle.
Astra leaned closer to Kael's ear, the intimacy deliberate, fierce.
"Consent," she whispered, "to me using Underchain Admin one last time in this room—then we run."
Kael's eyes burned into hers. "Yes."
Astra selected the only option that mattered:
NULL VOICE (LOCAL) — WEAKTARGET: COMMAND VOICE (RUSK)COST: CHAIN DEBT +1RISK: INQUIRY IMMEDIATE
Astra accepted.
Pain hit like cold pressure and a debt collector's smile.
NULL VOICE: ACTIVE (8s)CHAIN DEBT: 7INQUIRY TRIGGERED
Rusk's mouth moved—
No sound came out.
For the first time, his calm authority looked… offended.
Dorian's eyes widened slightly, then gleamed with delight.
Lyra smiled like she'd tasted blood.
Orin didn't waste the seconds. He slammed the door seam with a muffler sigil and yanked Juno toward the side corridor.
"MOVE!" Orin barked.
Kael tightened his arm at Astra's waist—asked-for, steady—and moved her, guiding her through the side hall without touching her throat.
"Consent?" Kael gasped, rough.
"Yes," Astra said. "Go."
They sprinted down a narrow annex corridor lined with framed certificates and wax-seal displays—trophies of legal violence. Behind them, Hound boots thudded as Rusk's men reacted without needing his voice.
Ahead, Lyra darted left into a service stairwell as if she'd memorized the building.
"Down," Lyra hissed. "Lantern drains."
Orin swore. "Again."
They plunged into the stairwell. Wet air rose like breath from below.
Astra's interface flickered:
NULL VOICE: 00:00:02
Kael's breathing tightened.
Astra's head throbbed with debt.
Then—twist, clean and brutal—new text slammed across her vision, overriding everything:
INQUIRY RESPONSE: UNDERCHAIN ADMIN FLAGGEDCOLLECTOR CLAIM: IMMEDIATETERM: "BRING THE SUBJECT."NOTE: ROUTE PROVIDED
Astra's blood went ice.
A route appeared in her UI—an arrow, jagged, pointing down the stairwell into the drains like the Underchain itself had decided to escort her.
Lyra looked back, eyes glittering. "Oh," she murmured. "You got noticed."
Orin's face went hard. "Collector."
Juno whispered, terrified, "What does that mean."
Astra swallowed blood. "It means the Underchain wants payment—now."
Kael's grip at Astra's waist tightened, grounding.
"Astra," he rasped, "consent to me taking you somewhere you don't trust."
Astra's throat burned.
They had Hounds behind them.
They had Dorian smiling in the annex.
And now the Underchain had opened a door and demanded she walk through.
Astra's breath shook once.
"Yes," she said, and hated how much it sounded like surrender even when it wasn't.
Kael pulled her down the last flight—
and the drain hatch at the bottom opened by itself, stone shifting like a mouth.
From the dark beyond, a voice spoke—low, amused, and far too familiar in a city that never forgot debts.
"Welcome, Astra Vey," the voice said. "Your chain is due."