The prompt didn't blink.
SPEAK "YES."
It sat in Astra's vision with the calm certainty of a guillotine—clean, simple, pretending it was only asking for one harmless syllable. Beneath the cloth wrap at her throat, the Guild witness seal vibrated like a trapped insect sensing daylight. The collar tightened in small hungry pulses, eager for hierarchy, eager for a chain of command it understood.
Above them, the air shuddered again—clean pressure testing Orin's muffler like a pen tapping a locked door.
Orin's face went pale in the damp. "They found the hatch."
Juno's disk hummed in her palm, the sound dirty and low, like a curse gathering teeth. "If they breach here—"
Kael stepped closer to Astra, the heat of him cutting through the cold damp like a living wall. His hands hovered at her waist and forearm, asking with his eyes.
Astra nodded once.
Kael held her—firm, controlled, nowhere near her throat. Consent threaded through the contact like a wire keeping them both from snapping. His breath warmed her hair, his voice rough at her ear.
"Don't say it," he murmured.
Astra's mouth tasted of blood and metal. "If I don't, he escalates."
"Let him," Kael said, low and fierce. "Containment is better than—" He swallowed hard. "Better than you giving him your mouth."
Heat flared low in Astra's belly—ugly, intense, alive—because the way he said mouth sounded like a confession he hated needing. She used the heat as fuel, not distraction.
"What does escalation look like," Astra asked, steady.
Kael's jaw clenched. "Separation. Containment. They drag me back and leave you for whoever claims fastest."
Dorian's silk voice purred at the edge of Astra's nerves. Yes. Leave her. Let her be auctioned.
Astra's nails bit into her palm. She didn't answer Dorian. She didn't feed him a door.
She focused on the one thing in the chamber that still felt like a choice.
Kael.
"Black water," Astra whispered, close enough that the words warmed the corner of his mouth.
Kael answered instantly, rough. "Black water."
The phrase steadied her spine, and the system hated that it had no registry slot for it.
Astra forced her eyes to the damp channel cutting through the stone floor. Dark water slid along it, slow and silent, carrying grit and old secrets. Not the Null Chapel moat, but close enough to make the word feel like fate.
She looked at Orin. "How deep does that run."
Orin's mouth tightened. "Old drain line. Deep enough to eat light. Not deep enough to hide a body."
Astra nodded. "Deep enough for real darkness."
Kael's grip tightened slightly at her waist. "Astra."
Astra met his eyes. His were almost black in the dim, furious and present, the kind of presence that didn't need to touch her throat to feel like a promise.
"I'm not giving Rusk a clean 'yes'," Astra said. "I'm going to make his 'private channel' dirty."
Orin snorted. "How."
Astra stared at the channel and felt the collar pulse as if it already knew.
"By putting my seal in the water," Astra said.
Juno's eyes widened. "That's your witness seal."
Astra's throat burned under cloth. "Exactly."
Kael went still. "If you touch it—"
"I know," Astra said, tight. "Trace. Pain. Price."
Kael's jaw clenched. "Don't pay with your throat."
Astra's mouth curved, razor-thin. "Then help me pay with angle."
The clean pressure above them tapped again—stronger. The muffler in the air trembled.
Orin swore softly. "We're out of breaths."
Kael's voice dropped, intimate and lethal. "Tell me what you want."
Astra swallowed. "I want you to keep me upright while I do this. And if my knees go soft—"
Kael cut in, fierce. "They won't."
Astra's gaze held his. "Consent," she said, low. "If they do, you hold my waist. You don't touch my collar. You don't press anything. You keep me awake."
Kael's throat worked. "Yes."
The yes hit Astra like heat and grief braided together.
Orin's voice snapped. "Now, Astra. Or never."
Astra stepped toward the channel. The air smelled like wet stone and old iron. She crouched, knees trembling—not from fear, she told herself, but from trace buzzing too high in her veins.
The prompt in her vision pulsed again.
SPEAK "YES."
The word was waiting for her mouth.
Astra reached up and pinched the cloth wrap at her throat lightly, then paused—breathing through it. The collar pulsed, eager. The seal vibrated, offended, hungry.
Kael's hand tightened at her waist. Warm. Steady. Not a leash.
"Consent," Kael whispered, rough. "I'm keeping hold."
Astra nodded. "Yes."
Then she unwrapped just enough cloth to expose the edge of the witness seal—metal cool against skin, wrong and familiar at once. The seal hummed like it was grateful to be seen.
Astra hated that she could feel its relief.
She leaned forward and dipped the bottom edge of the seal toward the dark water—careful, deliberate.
The moment the metal touched the water, the world flinched.
Not with sound.
With pressure.
A sting shot through Astra's nerves like a thin wire lit with flame. Her vision whitened for half a heartbeat. The collar tightened as if shocked, then pulsed harder, angry at being denied clean air.
Astra bit down hard.
Her interface flickered wildly.
WITNESS SEAL: SIGNAL QUALITY DEGRADEDMILITARY "SAFE PRIVATE CHANNEL": UNSTABLENOTE: WATER INTERFERENCE DETECTED
Good.
Pain rolled behind Astra's eyes—hot and swelling.
Kael's grip tightened at her waist. "Breathe," he rasped.
Astra dragged air in through her teeth.
The command prompt didn't vanish—but it wavered, edges fuzzing like ink in rain.
SPEAK "YES."
Now it looked less like a guillotine.
More like a cheap knife.
Orin hissed, urgent. "Do you see it change."
Astra swallowed blood. "Yes."
Juno's disk hummed louder as the clean pressure above them rose again—someone forcing the hatch, impatient.
Kael leaned close, voice rough and intimate. "If you say anything, say it to me."
Heat flared in Astra's belly because the way he said to me sounded like a claim he refused to frame as ownership.
Astra didn't waste time admiring it.
She used it.
Astra leaned toward Kael's mouth, close enough that the almost-kiss cut through the terror like a blade. Her voice dropped low—private, chosen.
"Black water," she whispered.
Kael answered instantly. "Black water."
Then Astra lifted her chin and addressed the system prompt, careful with every syllable.
Not "yes."
Not clean.
Not surrendered.
She spoke like a contract written in breath.
"My response is conditional," Astra said clearly. "This channel is not private while my seal is submerged."
The system hesitated.
A thin line appeared under the prompt, flickering.
PRIVACY STATUS: CONTESTED
Rusk's voice slid through the weak military link—still calm, still lethal.
"Cute," he murmured. "You think water makes you untouchable."
Astra's throat burned. "It makes your paperwork sloppy."
Rusk chuckled softly. "Then I'll stop using paperwork."
The clean pressure above them surged.
The hatch groaned—a metal complaint that turned into a sharp crack.
Orin's eyes went wide. "Breach!"
Juno threw her disk upward at the hatch seam without thinking. The disk hit and screamed—dirty hum climbing metal like a swarm.
The hatch hesitated.
Then pushed anyway.
A wedge of clean light knifed into the chamber.
A shadow moved at the opening—controlled, patient.
The lead Hound again.
He didn't crawl in like prey.
He stepped in like a consequence.
His crest glimmered at the throat, bright under the clean line. His gaze flicked over them—Orin, Juno, Astra's wet throat wrap—and landed on Kael.
"Stand down," the Hound said calmly.
Kael's body twitched—tiny involuntary movement—then held. He clenched his jaw, breathing hard through resistance.
Astra felt the handler bind tighten like a rope pulled from both ends.
Rusk's voice sharpened through the link. "Kael. Transfer the subject."
Astra's stomach turned. She kept the seal's edge in the water, pain blooming.
Kael's hand at her waist tightened. His other hand hovered, fighting.
Astra saw the twitch in his fingers—old obedience trying to rise.
"Kael," Astra snapped. "Look at me."
His eyes snapped to hers—dark, furious, present.
Astra leaned close enough that her breath warmed his jaw and spoke in the only language that still belonged to them.
"Consent," Astra whispered. "If your hand moves toward my throat, I lock it. Only to keep you from being used. Yes?"
Kael swallowed hard.
"Yes," he rasped. "Yes."
The word yes from Kael felt like a blade offered handle-first.
Astra took it.
Not to cut him.
To cut the leash.
The Hound stepped further into the chamber, steady as a metronome. His eyes flicked to Astra's damp seal and narrowed.
"You're interfering with command," he said.
Astra's mouth tasted blood. "Command is interfering with me."
The Hound's gaze sharpened. "You're a hazard."
Astra's collar pulsed as if it loved being called a hazard—special, wrong, branded.
Astra hated it.
She kept her voice flat. "Then stop standing in my drain line."
The Hound's mouth twitched—almost amused.
Then his eyes went colder.
"Kael Raithe," he said. "Recall posture."
Kael's knees trembled.
Astra felt it like a knife between her ribs.
The conduit chamber was military bone. It remembered how to make Hounds kneel.
Kael's jaw clenched. "No."
His knees dipped anyway—barely, wrong.
Astra's throat burned.
The handler panel pulsed in her vision, eager.
HANDLER OVERRIDE: AVAILABLERECOMMENDED: SUBDUE HOUND / SECURE SUBJECT
Dorian's silk voice purred. Do it. Hold him down. Make him yours before they do.
Astra almost gagged.
She didn't want to subdue Kael.
She wanted him upright and choosing.
Astra tightened her grip on the cloth wrap, keeping the seal wet, keeping the prompt unstable.
Then she did something smaller—and sharper.
She didn't press the big button.
She used Kael's earlier promise.
"Kael," Astra said, low and absolute, "tell him no. Again."
Kael's breath shuddered. His eyes stayed on Astra—anchoring in her instead of the Hound.
"No," Kael said, rough.
For a heartbeat, the kneeling pressure eased.
The Hound's gaze narrowed. "Your handler is interfering."
Kael's teeth bared slightly. "My ally is saving me."
Astra's chest tightened at ally.
Heat flared despite everything.
Juno's voice shook. "They're going to pull more in."
Orin hissed, "We need a door!"
He slapped a scar-sigil on the wall—black paste smeared in a spiral.
Stone shuddered, reluctant.
Old mechanisms groaned.
The Hound moved—fast.
Not toward Astra.
Toward Orin.
A hand shot out to seize Orin's shoulder.
Juno's disk screamed again, dirtying the Hound's read just enough that his grip slipped a fraction.
Orin tore away with a curse and slammed his palm back onto the sigil.
The wall seam cracked.
A narrow service throat opened—cold air spilling like mercy.
"Go!" Orin snarled.
Astra surged toward the opening, but pain spiked behind her eyes and the world tilted.
Kael's hand tightened at her waist. "Stay with me."
Astra forced her legs to move. "I'm here."
The Hound lunged again, this time toward Astra—toward her throat wrap—because that was the easiest handle.
Astra's blood went ice.
External contact to collar or seal.
Threat exception.
The system would love it.
Kael moved between them—fast, controlled—shoulder first, not hands, blocking without grabbing Astra's throat into danger. His body took the collision.
The Hound staggered half a step, surprise flickering, then reset like a machine.
Kael's jaw clenched. "Touch her and I'll—"
"You'll what," the Hound asked calmly. "Disobey command harder."
Kael's breath shook with rage.
Astra saw his right hand twitch—muscle suggestion rising again under recall pressure.
Astra didn't hesitate this time. They'd agreed.
She opened the handler panel and chose the smallest blade: one hand, one moment, survival.
OVERRIDE ACTION: MOTOR LOCK (KAEL) — RIGHT HAND ONLY (3s)
Pain detonated behind Astra's eyes so hard she saw white.
Her trace buzzed like fire ants under skin.
Kael's right hand froze mid-twitch.
Kael swore, furious—not at Astra, at the system.
"I didn't—" he rasped.
"I know," Astra said tight. "Move."
Orin shoved Juno through the service throat. Juno scrambled, disks clattering softly.
Orin yanked Astra by the sleeve—careful not to touch her throat—pulling her toward the opening.
Kael stayed close, his frozen hand making him clumsy for three seconds, but he still used his body as a wall.
The Hound stepped after them, calm, relentless.
And then—twist, sharp as a blade in the dark—
A familiar voice floated down from the hatch above, amused and breathless, as if the whole chase had been a game.
"Don't run," Lyra called. "You'll miss the best part."
Astra's blood went cold.
Lyra appeared at the hatch line—hair damp, cheeks flushed, eyes glittering. Behind her, clean boots. Not Guild. Not Church.
Hounds.
Lyra smiled down at them like a woman who'd just sold a secret and wanted applause.
Kael's gaze snapped up, lethal. "Lyra."
Lyra's smile widened. "Relax. I didn't betray you."
Astra's stomach turned. "Then why are you with them."
Lyra's eyes flicked to Astra's throat wrap, then to Kael's wrist—handler mark—and her smile sharpened into something almost tender.
"Because Captain Dain wanted a witness," Lyra said softly. "A real witness. Someone who can certify your 'private' yes."
Astra's interface flared.
SAFE PRIVATE CHANNEL: VERIFIED (WITNESS PRESENT)WITNESS: LYRA SABLE (REGISTERED)PROMPT: SPEAK "YES."
Kael's body went rigid.
Astra felt the system's hunger surge—now it could claim "privacy" because it had a registered witness to certify it.
The collar pulsed like it was purring.
Astra's throat burned.
Lyra leaned on the hatch edge, smiling down at Astra with bright, dangerous eyes.
"I'm sorry," Lyra said, not sounding sorry at all. "It's only one word."
The Hound in the chamber stepped forward again, blocking the service throat with calm precision.
Orin's face went grey. Juno froze in the narrow opening, trapped halfway.
Kael's jaw clenched, eyes burning into Astra's. "Don't."
Astra's vision tunneled around the prompt.
SPEAK "YES."
One word. One surrender. One lie with teeth.
Astra dipped the witness seal deeper into the dark water, pain lancing, and whispered to Kael—low, fierce, intimate.
"Black water."
Kael answered instantly, rough. "Black water."
Astra lifted her chin, stared at Lyra above, at the Hound in front, at the service throat behind—
—and the system gave her the final, cruel clarification in cold white text:
NOTE: "YES" WILL CONFIRM HANDLER OVERSIGHT TRANSFER — TO CAPTAIN RUSK DAIN.