The Underchain didn't welcome her.
It measured her.
Astra felt it in the way conversations dimmed as she passed, the way eyes slid to her throat and then away like looking too long might invite the Dominion down the tunnels. Cloth walls shifted with bodies behind them. Lamps burned low, smoke-heavy, making every face half a secret.
Orin walked ahead like the tunnels belonged to him. Kael stayed close behind Astra, his hand on her wrist—steady pressure, no tenderness, all intent. The contact kept her upright. It also made her painfully aware of where he was at all times.
Her collar pulsed, faint but persistent. Not the full RETURN roar it had been in House Veyrn's ward net—this was a distant pull, like a hook that couldn't find purchase in the interference.
Still there.
Still hungry.
Astra's interface flickered at the edge of her vision, dimmed by the Underchain warding but not silenced.
STATUSTRACE: 27.4%AUDIT: SEARCHING…RECALL PATH: INTERMITTENTNOTE: HOUSE VEYRN OVERRIDE — REACQUIRING
Reacquiring.
The word made her stomach tighten. A man like Dorian didn't "lose" things. He reclassified them as delayed.
Orin stopped at a narrow gate made of welded scrap and old chains. A guard leaned out from behind hanging cloth—young, sharp-eyed, a knife visible at his belt like an honest introduction.
"Orin," the guard said. "You brought heat."
Orin smiled without warmth. "I brought profit."
The guard's gaze slid past Orin to Astra. It landed on her collar and stayed there a beat too long.
Astra didn't flinch.
Then the guard looked at Kael's wrist crest, and something in his face shifted—wariness threaded with contempt.
"A Hound," he spat quietly.
Kael didn't react. That was how Astra knew it stung.
Orin's tone went flat. "Open it."
Chains clinked. The gate swung inward. The air beyond smelled different—drier, less crowded, like this pocket of Underchain had paid for space with blood.
They stepped into a corridor lined with scar-sigils and iron hooks. Not decorative. Functional. Old restraint points. Old warnings.
Astra's pulse steadied anyway. It was ugly, but it was honest.
Orin led them to a reinforced door and knocked a pattern—three, pause, two. The same language he'd used before. The door opened just enough for a pair of eyes to scan.
Then it opened wide.
Inside was a room that felt like a knife's sheath—tight, safe, and designed for quick draws. A low table. Two lanterns. Maps painted on cloth. A rack of tools that didn't look like weapons until you realized everything could be a weapon here.
A girl sat cross-legged on the floor beside the table, threading a wire through a small sigil disk. She looked up as they entered—nineteen, sharp, and entirely too calm for the way Underchain lived.
Juno.
Her gaze snapped to Astra's collar, then to Kael's crest, and her expression shifted into something like a smile.
"Orin," she said. "You're late."
Orin shrugged. "Blame the Marquis."
Juno's eyes narrowed. "He's moving?"
Orin nodded. "He's hunting."
Juno's gaze slid to Astra again, lingering this time on her face rather than her throat. "So you're the glitch."
Astra's mouth curved faintly. "So I'm told."
Juno's smile sharpened. "That's going to ruin everyone's night."
Kael closed the door behind them and turned the latch. The sound landed heavy in Astra's chest. A locked room always meant a price.
Orin gestured to the table. "Sit."
Astra didn't move immediately. Her body waited for the collar to approve. It pulsed and tugged and then, because it couldn't see a higher authority here, it let her choose the smallest freedoms.
She sat on the edge of a bench.
Kael remained standing behind her, too close. His presence pressed warm through the thin air between them.
Orin leaned over the table and unrolled a cloth map. The markings weren't the clean geometry of Dominion planning. They were scratched, layered, messy—truth recorded by people who didn't expect to live long.
He tapped a node marked with a chapel symbol.
"The Null Chapel," Orin said.
Astra's throat tightened. "Chapel."
Juno snorted. "Not Lumen."
Orin's smile turned thin. "Older."
He traced a line from the chapel symbol to a cluster of tunnels. "This pocket sits under a dead ward lattice. Dominion signals get… confused."
Astra's interface flickered, as if the word confused pleased it.
RULESET (VIEW ONLY)— Interference reduces recall fidelity.— Conflicting authority increases TRACE variance.
Orin glanced at Astra's face, as if he could see the reflected light of her interface even if he couldn't. "We can sever your recall thread there."
Astra swallowed. "Sever."
Orin's eyes didn't blink. "Temporarily. Sometimes permanently. Depends on your collar's build."
Juno lifted her wire disk. "Depends on whether it learns faster than you."
Astra's stomach turned. Lyra's words echoed: a collar that learns.
Kael spoke for the first time since they entered, voice controlled. "What's the cost."
Orin smiled like he'd been waiting for that question. "You already know there's always a cost."
Kael's eyes stayed flat. "Say it."
Orin tapped the chapel symbol again. "Null Chapel is Underchain-neutral. It doesn't do favors for free. You'll owe a clause."
Astra's pulse kicked.
Clause.
Not coin. Not blood. A contract.
Orin's gaze slid to Kael's wrist crest. "And it prefers collateral with teeth."
Kael didn't move. "Meaning."
Orin's smile sharpened. "Meaning the Hound signs too."
Silence dropped.
Astra felt Kael's hand tighten on her wrist for a fraction of a second—an involuntary reaction he corrected immediately.
Juno watched Kael with open interest. "You Dominion types always think you're above contracts. It's cute."
Kael's jaw flexed. "My crest is already a contract."
Orin nodded. "Exactly. A leash. That's why it's valuable collateral."
Astra's throat burned, low and simmering. "You want his leash."
Orin's eyes held hers. "I want a guarantee you don't bring your war to my tunnels and then disappear when it gets expensive."
Astra's mouth went dry. "And if we refuse."
Orin shrugged. "Then I give you back to whichever claim reaches you first."
Juno's voice was light. "The Church will 'purify' you. The Marquis will 'study' you. Pick your romance."
Astra's fingers curled in her lap until her nails bit her skin. She kept her face calm. A calm face was the only thing the Dominion hadn't managed to steal.
Kael's voice came low. "We need time."
Orin's smile widened. "Time is what you don't have."
As if to prove him right, a faint tremor ran through the air—a subtle pulse that didn't belong to Underchain lamps or footsteps.
Astra's collar warmed sharply. The hook in her spine tugged harder.
Her interface flared bright enough to make her eyes ache.
HOUSE VEYRN OVERRIDE: SIGNAL LOCKRECALL PATH: REESTABLISHINGTRACE: 28.1%
Astra's breath hitched.
Kael's head snapped toward her face. "What."
Astra swallowed. "He's tightening the thread."
Orin's expression shifted—interest sharpening into urgency. "Already? He's faster than I hoped."
Juno rose smoothly, wire disk slipping into her palm like a coin. "We move now."
Kael's eyes narrowed. "Now."
Orin rolled the map with a quick, practiced motion. "Now."
The room shifted into action. Juno grabbed a satchel of tools. Orin checked a small sigil-slate and frowned like he didn't like the numbers it showed.
Astra stood slowly, the collar tugging at her posture.
Kael stepped in front of her for a beat, blocking Orin's view. His voice dropped so low it felt like it brushed Astra's skin.
"Can you walk," he murmured.
Astra's mouth curved faintly. "You already know I can."
Kael's gaze flicked to her mouth, then back to her eyes, fierce. "If it starts to lock—tell me."
Astra held his gaze. "If you start to break—tell me."
Kael's jaw tightened. That was the closest she'd come to touching his truth with bare fingers.
Orin cut in, impatient. "Save the vows. Move."
They left the room through a back corridor where the lamps burned lower and the walls were carved with older sigils. The air turned colder. Astra's collar tugged again, and she tasted Dorian like an unwanted prayer.
RETURN.
It wasn't a clean command. It was a pressure building under her tongue.
Kael took her wrist again as they moved, guiding her through tight turns and low arches. Juno moved ahead like she'd been born in these tunnels. Orin walked beside Kael, eyes scanning every junction like he was counting threats.
Astra's interface flickered, then steadied as the Underchain interference held.
TRACE: 28.4%AUDIT: SEARCHING…RECALL PATH: STRAINED
Strained meant not broken.
Not yet.
At a narrow choke point where hanging cloth brushed shoulders, Juno paused and held up a hand.
Everyone stopped.
Astra's breath caught. The tunnel ahead was quiet.
Too quiet.
Juno leaned toward a crack in the wall and listened. Her eyes narrowed, then flicked back to Orin.
"Lumen," she mouthed.
Astra's stomach dropped.
Seraphine had entered Underchain territory.
Kael's posture tightened. His hand on Astra's wrist turned into a steadier anchor.
Orin's voice was barely a whisper. "How many."
Juno lifted two fingers. Then a third.
Three clerics. Close.
Kael's eyes went cold. "We go around."
Juno shook her head. "No time. They're mapping. If they see you, they'll mark the route."
Orin's mouth tightened. "Then we cut through."
Astra's pulse thundered. Cut through meant violence, and violence meant trace.
Force-lock wasn't committed, but her system was already warning about stability. Every spike fed the machine that wanted to close around her throat.
Kael leaned close, voice against Astra's ear. "Keep your eyes forward. Don't look at the interface."
Astra's laugh came out thin. "It's in my eyes."
Kael's jaw flexed. "Then don't feed it attention."
Astra swallowed. She could do that. She could pretend not to see what only she could see. She could starve the system of the one thing it liked: being noticed.
Juno slipped forward first, silent. Orin followed. Kael stayed half a step behind Astra, ready to move her like a piece on the board.
They reached a junction where the tunnel widened just enough to allow bodies to pass.
The clerics were there.
Three figures in pale cloth, sunburst crests faint in the low light. They were not armed with blades. They were armed with certainty.
One raised a hand and traced a small sunburst in the air. Light flared—soft, clinical—washing the tunnel in pale glow.
Astra's collar warmed sharply.
Her interface flickered bright, instinctively responding to the new net trying to touch her.
LUMEN SCAN: ACTIVEANOMALY SIGNATURE: DETECTING…