The passage beyond the broken anchor rebuilt itself while the survivors watched.
Shards of mirror slid across the floor and fitted themselves into the walls. Severed white cords withdrew into narrow seams. A metal bracket disappeared beneath a turning floor plate before Kael could reach it, leaving a warm rectangular mark in the stone.
The closing seams made the direction plain: the rooms were driving them forward.
Renn tightened his bare-hand count. His cloth was gone, so he moved from wrist to wrist, feeling each pulse before guiding the next survivor forward. Fourteen people answered him through skin, shaking fingers, and the small adjustments wounded bodies made for one another.
"The room is fixing itself behind us," he said. "I would like to know whether we are walking out or being moved somewhere easier to kill."
Vaela kept the wrapped crown fragment under one arm and the damaged white edge beneath her coat. Her other hand rested against the cloth around Kael’s calf, where the broken hook remained lodged in muscle.
"We are being moved," she said. "The floor has already hidden the bracket he noticed, and these seams are closing from the rear. Keep the count close enough to change direction without pulling anyone off their feet."
Orrek rolled his injured shoulder before she could stop him. Pain tightened his face, and his shortened chain slipped half a link through his burned palm.
"The shoulder still works," he said, lowering the chain beside his leg. "It only complains whenever I ask for something unreasonable, which has become most of my day."
Vaela pressed two fingers against the swollen joint until Orrek stopped rolling it. "The next mistake may leave your arm hanging loose, so keep the chain low and save it for a body you can reach."
Jaro glanced back at the sealed chamber. Fresh cloth covered both palms, but red had already soaked through the middle of each wrap.
"Reaching the body may be the problem," he said. "Old pipe crews told stories about rooms that studied a break before making whatever came next. I thought they were trying to frighten new workers away from damaged tunnels."
"Were they?" Renn asked.
Jaro looked at the walls drawing shut around them. "I am reconsidering several childhood opinions."
A low vibration passed through the stone.
HUM!
The sound touched Kael’s ribs and withdrew. It did not squeeze his lungs, bend his joints, or pull at the Sovereign Root. No shard appeared.
Kael watched pale dust lift around his boots. The grains climbed the leather, stopped at the height of his ankle, and dropped in a perfect ring.
Vaela crouched and placed a broken ration hook inside the dust. A second ring climbed the metal and stopped at the same height.
"It is measuring where to strike," she said. "Nothing has attacked yet, so stay still and give it as little reaction as possible."
Three panels opened in the ceiling.
CLICK! CLICK! CLICK!
Small masks descended on thin rails. Each was made from dark glass over a white frame, with no mouth and only shallow dents where eyes should have been. The first dent held a copy of Kael driving his forehead through the Judge’s face. The second showed his knee entering the anchor. The third showed both hands tearing down the thick white cord.
Sella covered her daughter’s eyes. The girl pushed one finger beneath her mother’s palm and peeked anyway.
"It made his face wrong," she whispered.
"It did not make his face at all," Sella said. "Keep looking at me instead."
The nearest mask turned toward them.
Kael stepped across its view. The rail stopped at once.
Renn saw the response. "It wanted the child, and you showed it yourself."
"It wanted to learn who I would cover," Kael said. "Move Sella toward the middle, but do not place everyone in a straight line."
The living count changed shape. Renn guided Sella and her daughter between Tavin and the furnace-scar woman. Dorran shifted beside the burned worker, keeping weight off his damaged ankle. The bowl boy took Jaro’s sleeve instead of standing alone near the wall.
Their arrangement looked uneven because it belonged to people, not a drill.
The masks began sliding again.
SCRAPE!
Every small movement altered their eye dents. Orrek’s shoulder trembled, and the first mask copied the tremor. Renn changed his grip, and the second mask formed the curve of his fingers. Vaela adjusted Kael’s calf binding, and a narrow white line appeared across the third mask where her hand had crossed the wound.
"It is keeping more than his attacks," Renn said. "It is copying how we help him."
Jaro’s breath shortened. "Do not repeat anything cleanly. A repair crew survived these rooms by changing hands, tools, and order every time the walls moved. The stories never said how many workers reached the far side."
Orrek looked at the mask holding his shoulder tremor. "You continue finding the least comforting part of every useful memory."
Jaro kept watching the mask. "Comfort was expensive where I grew up, and information usually arrived after someone was hurt. I am remembering as quickly as I can."
Kael raised one hand before their fear became argument. "Change what you can without losing anyone. Speak when a person needs to understand the change."
Renn shifted the count from wrists to forearms, allowing injured hands to rest. Vaela moved behind Kael long enough to hide which side she treated. Orrek carried his chain over the sound shoulder instead of dragging it at the same height. Jaro traded places with the burned worker and kept the boy between two adults.
The masks struggled to preserve one pattern.
The passage narrowed by the width of a hand.
GRIND!
Black stone pressed toward the survivors from both sides. A straight line would have fit, but it would also have separated every injured body from the person supporting it.
Vaela touched the wall and drew her fingers back before the surface could close around them. "It wants single file, but we keep the pairs and turn sideways through the narrowest part. Support every injured shoulder before the wall reaches it."
Kael entered first. His weight pressed a shallow bowl into the floor, proving the stone could bend even when the walls looked rigid. He set his back against the left side and one palm against the right, holding enough space for the first pair.
Stone groaned beneath the density of his body.
CRACK!
The masks tilted, comparing the brace with every impact stored in their glass.
"Do not hurry," Kael said. "Tavin brings Dorran through first. Renn keeps contact across the gap, and Orrek watches the rear without swinging unless something gains a body."
Tavin guided Dorran sideways between Kael’s legs and the wall. Dorran’s injured ankle caught on a raised seam, but Renn’s hand reached through and steadied his hip before he fell. Sella and her daughter crossed next, followed by the furnace-scar woman and the bowl boy.
Orrek waited until the burned worker entered the gap before following. Sweat ran across his face while the damaged shoulder supported only the lightest part of the chain.
"I am obeying the medical order," he told Vaela. "Please remember this rare event when deciding whether to insult me later."
Vaela watched his elbow sag and moved the chain higher on his sound side. "I can see you trying, although the shoulder is still failing. Keep the elbow close until you are through."
His laugh ended in a pained breath, but the sound helped the burned worker keep moving.
All fourteen cleared the narrowing passage. Jaro came last, outside Renn’s count but close enough for Kael to seize his coat when the wall snapped shut.
BOOM!
Dust burst across their backs. Jaro landed on both knees and stared at the sealed stone.
"I had prepared a much better final sentence," he said. "The wall has ruined it."
Renn helped him stand. "Save it until we are clear of the next room. I would rather hear it when neither of us is kneeling."
The chamber ahead had no door. A sheet of black-white material stretched from floor to ceiling, thin enough to show movement behind it. Long arms folded against a narrow body. Ribs opened and closed without lungs, while joint plates changed position each time the ceiling masks moved.
The unfinished head turned toward Kael.
HUM!
Every mask lowered at once.
Vaela studied the moving ribs. "The masks are feeding it what they saw. It has his head strike, knee, hands, weight, and every person he chose to cover."
Jaro pressed his wrapped palms against his thighs to stop them shaking. "Old crews called this answerwork. The name matters less than the purpose. It is building a body for the attacks it expects."
"Can it finish without touching us?" Renn asked.
"The rooms in the stories always needed a final test. Survivors disagreed about what it was because each crew saw a different part of the disaster."
The body inhaled behind the sheet. White lines moved through its ribs and gathered around the places corresponding to Kael’s fists, knees, forehead, and shoulders.
No pressure reached him. The Sovereign Root remained silent.
The machinery had learned to prepare without feeding him.
Kael looked back at the survivors. Renn held the living count. Vaela guarded the injuries and both wrapped objects. Orrek kept his chain low enough to protect the rear without destroying his shoulder. Sella’s daughter watched from between two adults, frightened but still curious.
"It has only seen what already happened," Kael said. "Keep the group changing, and do not give the masks an isolated person."
The unfinished body raised one arm. Its elbow unfolded in the wrong direction before correcting itself to match Kael’s recorded strike.
Renn swallowed. "What can you change before it reaches us?"
Kael lowered his hands and shifted his weight away from every stance shown in the masks.
"I will start with the part it believes it understands best."
The sheet split from top to bottom.
Something inside took its first breath.