The cage key pulled Nyra's sleeve downward whenever she moved.
She could have handed it to the evidence officer after the yard emptied. Instead, she carried it across the Academy while the meter traveled on a low cart behind her, still open beneath its iron bars.
Students moved aside for the cage. They looked at the dark filament, then at Nyra. Their eyes made her responsible for whatever body once contained it.
Perhaps it had.
The evidence room occupied a stone bay with two wide doors and enough daylight to keep every hand visible. No desk separated the people inside. The cart stopped over a white floor cloth while the meter reader brought her classroom inspection record and the worker laid out the service tools.
Vhar remained outside the marked line with Radrazh and Ulqor crossed behind him. He had eaten since the yard reading. His reserve had begun returning through quiet circulation, but the meter did not twitch while he stood there.
"That is almost insulting," he said.
Nyra glanced at the still needle. "You preferred it when the instrument lied?"
"No, but it could at least be consistent."
The meter reader smiled despite the sleepless worry around her eyes.
An Academy runner arrived carrying the service ledger. A House Severin courier entered behind him.
Nyra recognized the same dark travel coat that had waited outside the archive when she first put her name on Vhar's evidence. This time the courier carried no folder. A narrow silver plate lay across his palm.
"Your House reader sent this for you," he said.
Nyra did not take it. "What does it say?"
"House Severin will not place its seal behind an unknown biological source opened under your personal authority. Transfer the cage key to the Academy, step outside before the hidden wax is broken, and your lineage access remains unchanged."
There was no threat in his voice. He had clearly delivered worse messages to people he liked better.
"And if I stay?"
"The House reader closes your direct lineage request route. Future archive access returns to ordinary Academy standing, and House transport will no longer answer your personal strip."
Nyra felt the cost in practical distances: records she could no longer reach before someone moved them, roads she would cross without a House carriage, doors that would open slowly enough for a warning to arrive first.
"They sent the consequence before we know what is inside the wax."
The courier looked at the cage. "They sent it because nobody knows."
The evidence officer waited near the cart. She did not tell Nyra that the Academy could replace what House Severin withdrew. It could not.
Nyra closed her fingers around the cage key. "You can tell the reader I received the plate."
"What answer am I carrying back?"
"Wait until I have made it."
He stepped against the wall and remained.
Nyra unlocked the cage.
CLACK!
The worker lifted it straight upward while the evidence officer slid four wooden stops around the cart wheels. The filament remained wound through the needle assembly. The gray-black bead sat beneath the response plate inside wax bearing two ridges and a hooked center.
The meter reader opened her classroom record beside it. Her drawn seal had three straight ridges.
"I inspected this instrument before the quarry lesson, when the response plate sat flush, both service screws carried old tarnish, and the balancing weight was brass."
The worker angled the lamp across the first screw hole. Bright metal shone beneath the dark head.
"Someone removed this after the inspection," he said, "because the thread caught fresh brass when they returned it."
He used a wooden sliver to lift one curled shaving from beside the drilled passage. The shaving lay beneath the hidden wax, not above it.
Nyra leaned closer. "So the hole was drilled before that seal was pressed."
"Yes."
The service ledger showed the meter entering Academy storage after the classroom lesson. It left once before the public reading, for a numbered response-plate correction. The return line carried an office mark but no worker's handprint because the work had been recorded as sealed replacement.
The meter reader touched the empty space beside the line. "A response plate is not supposed to return sealed against inspection, so I should have opened it yesterday."
"The outside seal matched," Nyra said. "I accepted it too."
"You did not sign this instrument out."
"I stood beside it and told Vhar we had seen it work. I won't put the whole mistake in your hands. Yours just happened to carry the case."
The reader breathed out through her nose. Some of the strain left her shoulders.
The courier watched Nyra from the wall. Her House had offered her a way out of this exact moment, one that left the mistake with the Academy workers, the danger with Vhar, and the source with the evidence officer while she stepped back. She could preserve access by becoming absent at the point where presence mattered.
The worker set two hooked tools beneath the hidden plate. "Once the wax breaks, the biological material must enter a separate containment dish. I can lift the plate, but somebody named on the discovery must authorize it."
Nyra took the narrow silver plate from the courier at last.
It warmed against her skin, recognizing her lineage. House transport routes, direct archive requests, and reader access remained behind that small piece of metal.
She placed it on the table where everyone could see it.
"Record that House Severin warned me before opening," she said. "Record that the source remains Academy evidence and that no House receives custody through my name."
The courier's face tightened. "That closes the access whether the material proves dangerous or worthless."
"Since it moved before Vhar did, worthless is already unavailable."
Nyra pressed her personal field seal beside the hidden wax.
"Open it."
The worker raised both hooks.
CRACK!
The wax split through its hooked center. One half remained attached to the response plate; the other lifted with the shallow recess beneath it.
The filament contracted.
Vhar's right hand moved toward Radrazh's grip, then stopped. The strand had tightened around itself rather than reaching beyond the dish.
"Do you want the plate lowered again?" he asked.
Nyra could still tell the worker to press the broken halves together and cage everything as it stood. The seal would remain broken, her House access would remain lost, and the material would stay tangled through an instrument already proven false.
"No, separate it while we can still see every part."
Vhar shifted closer to the marked line without crossing it. His right shoulder cleared Radrazh's draw channel, though his hand left the grip.
"If it reaches beyond the dish, move behind me."
"You are outside the line."
"The line is paint."
The evidence officer looked down at the white boundary beneath her boots. "That line just stopped mattering."
Nyra almost laughed, but the filament tightened again around the brass rod. "Stay where you can reach it without striking the marrow because we still need both pieces intact."
"Radrazh is not the blade I would use for that."
His left shoulder turned instead, leaving Ulqor's grip clear. Nyra understood the answer through his body: if the reached filament tried to extend, he would separate that exact connection without destroying the evidence around it.
The source remained still. Ulqor stayed sheathed.
The worker lowered the plate into treated glass. The meter reader guided the loose filament with two brass rods, never touching it, while the evidence officer slid the marrow bead into a second compartment.
Fine dark fibers clung to the bead's pale channels. No eye opened. No limb formed. Nothing answered Nyra's voice or followed the rods with independent intention.
The material was anatomy, dead and isolated. That did not reveal whether the originating organism had thought, spoken, built, obeyed, hunted, or ruled.
"Write no species or mind," Nyra said. "Write only what is present."
The evidence officer read back the entry. "Preserved nerve filament and compressed marrow; present life state extinct, original identity unknown, and no current autonomous personhood observed."
"Keep 'observed' because we do not turn an absent answer into proof."
The officer corrected the line.
The worker examined both broken wax halves. One edge carried a faint cloth impression beneath the hooked seal. The same weave had pressed into the ledger wrapper issued for the response-plate correction.
The material had entered after the classroom inspection and before the meter returned to storage. The record did not name the hand responsible, but it closed the time window and preserved the method.
Nyra signed beneath it.
The silver House plate cooled on the table.
The courier picked it up. "Your direct route closes when I cross the eastern gate."
"I understand."
He looked at the separated filament. "I hope this earns the cost."
Nyra looked back at him. "It already prevented someone else from deciding what disappeared."
He bowed, not as deeply as before, and left with the plate.
The evidence officer sealed the two-compartment dish inside the iron cage. Nyra surrendered the old key only after receiving the new number and watching the officer fasten it to her own belt.
Vhar waited until every lock held before stepping closer.
"House Severin?" he asked.
"No direct archive requests or House transport through my personal strip."
"Do you regret staying?"
Nyra watched the eastern gate where the courier had vanished. "Ask me on the first road I have to walk."
Vhar nodded. He did not offer to make the answer easier for her.
Food, elapsed hours, and his completed circulation had restored part of what the public reading spent. The hidden tissue no longer occupied the meter. It waited inside a cage whose number Nyra had chosen to remember.
Tomorrow, Vhar could touch it once, but today nobody could remove it through her House name.