Chapter 8: The Delegation Protocol
The apartment was quiet again after Ava's friends had left. Their laughter still echoed faintly in her ears, and the warmth of their presence lingered in the cushions, the air, the half-empty mugs on the coffee table. For a moment, she allowed herself to breathe, to enjoy the silence. But it didn't last.
The familiar chime rang through her mind like the tolling of a bell.
[Teamwork synchronization optimal.]
[Delegation Protocol unlocked.]
[Host may now grant limited system access to designated individuals.]
Ava sat up straighter, eyes widening. Her gaze snapped toward the translucent panel that unfolded before her like a holographic scroll. This wasn't a small update, not a minor feature. This was something groundbreaking.
The interface displayed rows of options, glowing softly. At the top, a description flickered to life:
Delegation Protocol: A program allowing the Host to grant auxiliary users limited access to Hope's Refuge. Auxiliary users may:
Deposit materials and resources directly into the Refuge.
Access specific shared storage compartments as determined by Host.
Communicate securely through the system's encrypted channel.
Request limited functions of system support, subject to Host approval.
Restrictions:
Auxiliary access is tied to System Keys (unique identifiers).
Authority remains subordinate to Host.
Access level may evolve based on trust, synchronization, and contribution.
Ava read every line carefully, her heartbeat quickening. This wasn't just convenience. This was evolution. Her friends didn't need to lug bags of scavenged goods back to her personally. They wouldn't waste hours coordinating drop-offs. They could work independently, tossing whatever they found straight into the Refuge, knowing it was safe.
And communication—secure communication—was priceless. No phones, no risk of interception. They'd have their own private network, invisible to the world.
She clapped a hand over her mouth, muffling a laugh. "Holy shit. This changes everything."
Her fingers twitched. She could almost feel the next step buzzing in her bones. This wasn't something to sit on. This wasn't something to keep to herself.
She grabbed her phone and began furiously typing.
[Ava]: Emergency sleepover. Get your asses back here. NOW.
---
It didn't even take fifteen minutes. The sound of hurried footsteps filled the hallway, followed by the doorbell ringing in an impatient rhythm.
When Ava swung the door open, her friends were clustered together—Brian looking faintly annoyed but curious, Zephyr with his usual smirk, Lyra and Alyssa half-laughing, and Kael leaning silently against the frame as if he had known this would happen.
"You didn't even let us digest dinner," Zephyr said, brushing past her into the apartment.
"Trust me," Ava said, closing the door behind them. "You'll want to hear this."
---
They crowded back into the living room, dropping bags and jackets onto the floor, reclaiming their earlier seats. Ava stood before them, trying to contain her excitement but failing spectacularly.
"The system unlocked something new," she announced, holding up her hand. A glowing panel materialized beside her, casting shifting light across their faces. "It's called the Delegation Protocol."
Brian's brows furrowed. "Sounds… bureaucratic."
"Sounds badass," Zephyr countered. "Explain before I die of suspense."
Ava launched into it. She explained what the program did: the ability to grant them limited access, the capacity to store resources directly into Hope's Refuge, the secure communication channel, the auxiliary permissions. Every word seemed to ignite something in their expressions—curiosity in Lyra's eyes, excitement in Alyssa's, a calculating edge in Kael's.
"So we can actually interact with your system," Alyssa said slowly, her tone sharp with focus. "Not just… follow your instructions."
"Exactly," Ava said. "You'll still be limited. I'm the Host, so ultimate control stays with me. But it means independence. It means efficiency."
Zephyr leaned forward, grinning. "So… space magic Dropbox. And walkie-talkies. Got it."
Lyra rolled her eyes. "Trust you to describe it like that."
"But he's not wrong," Brian muttered. "It solves ninety percent of our logistics headaches."
Before Ava could answer, a new sound filled the air—a crystalline chime, softer and warmer than the system's usual tone. Light shimmered in the corner of the room, like starlight condensing into form.
A small, round figure drifted into existence, no larger than a basketball. It was a puff of white, luminous fluff, with little wings of light and a halo-like ring hovering above its head. Its voice, when it spoke, was both chiming and echoing, as though no gender could ever contain it.
"Greetings," it said simply.
Zephyr nearly toppled backward. "WHAT THE—"
"Relax," Ava said quickly, suppressing a laugh. "This is Cream Puffs. My… companion."
"Companion?" Alyssa echoed, staring. "That's what you've been hiding from us?"
Cream Puffs bobbed in the air, its form glowing faintly. "The Host has deemed you worthy. Therefore, I may reveal myself. From this point forward, I shall serve as intermediary for the Delegation Protocol."
Brian rubbed his temples. "I'm hallucinating."
"No," Kael said calmly, his eyes locked on the creature. "This is real. Accept it."
---
The system chimed again, and a panel appeared before them all:
[Initiating System Key manifestation.]
[Designating Auxiliary Users.]
[Generating Binding Artifacts.]
Light spiraled from the air, weaving patterns of circuitry and ancient runes. The mystical collided with the futuristic in perfect harmony—glowing circuits wrapping around symbols that looked older than language. Slowly, objects took shape.
Bracelets. Necklaces. Studs.
Each piece of jewelry hovered before its destined bearer, pulsing with faint light.
"Holy shit," Zephyr whispered. He reached out and his bracelet slid onto his wrist as though it had been waiting for him all along. The moment it touched his skin, the glow sank inward, leaving behind a faint shimmer that quickly faded to invisibility.
"Where'd it go?" Lyra gasped, clutching at her necklace.
"Still there," Cream Puffs explained serenely. "The Artifacts exist beyond ordinary perception. They cannot be lost, nor stolen, nor destroyed. Only you and the Host may will them visible."
Alyssa's stud earrings flickered faintly before vanishing, while Brian inspected his ring with disbelief before it, too, dissolved from sight. Kael flexed his hand as his pendant sank into invisibility, his face unreadable.
Ava looked down at her own wrist. A thin bracelet pulsed once before fading, a subtle weight remaining like the brush of responsibility.
---
Then came the voices.
Test channel online, a thought whispered directly into Ava's mind. But it wasn't hers—it was Zephyr's.
"Wait—did you hear me?" he said aloud, his eyes wide.
"I heard you twice," Lyra groaned, clutching her head.
Cream Puffs bobbed approvingly. "System Keys are bonded. Communication mode functional. You may now transmit thoughts securely among yourselves. Range: unlimited."
Brian exhaled sharply. "We just got telepathy."
"Secure telepathy," Ava corrected, grinning despite herself. "This is… incredible."
Kael's voice slid into her mind then, cool and controlled. Efficient. We won't need to risk phone calls again.
"Exactly," Ava said.
The group experimented for several minutes, laughing as their thoughts overlapped, sometimes too loud, sometimes too faint. Zephyr kept sending nonsense songs into the channel until Alyssa threatened to choke him with her invisible earrings.
Still, underneath the jokes, there was a sense of awe. This was real. Tangible. Binding.
---
When they finally settled, Cream Puffs floated higher, its halo gleaming.
"Be aware," it intoned, "that your access is limited. You may store resources. You may communicate. You may request assistance. Nothing more. In time, should synchronization deepen, permissions may evolve. But the Host remains primary. No auxiliary shall surpass."
Everyone looked to Ava.
She swallowed, her throat tight. "That's the deal. You'll grow with me. Bit by bit, more access. But it'll never exceed mine."
"Fair," Kael said immediately.
Lyra nodded. "I don't mind. This is already more than I imagined."
"Same," Alyssa agreed. "I'll handle finances directly through the system now. Efficiency will double."
Brian smirked. "Triple. Because I'll keep you from overspending."
"You wish," Alyssa shot back.
Zephyr just leaned back, hands behind his head. "As long as I get to toss loot into space with a flick of the wrist, I'm happy."
---
The rest of the night was spent testing, experimenting, learning. They tried depositing small items into the Refuge—keys, coins, even a slice of bread Zephyr dramatically sacrificed. Each time, the item shimmered away, reappearing safely in the Refuge's shared inventory.
When they grew tired, they sprawled across Ava's living room with blankets and pillows. It was a sleepover, chaotic and cozy, laughter spilling late into the night.
But beneath it all was the hum of something bigger. They weren't just friends anymore. They weren't just students.
They were a unit, bound by a system older and stranger than any of them could comprehend.
And Ava knew, as she lay awake staring at the ceiling while the others drifted to sleep, that this was only the beginning.