Pale chains gathered above the corridor fork around a white-metal ring protruding from the ceiling. Broken hooks lined its lower edge. Inside, thin plates turned, marked with steps, wounds, and strikes copied from the lower route.
Jaro had named it a Protocol Crown. Pieces from every room moved inside the ring, driven by a thick white channel pulsing beneath it.
HUM!
The sound drove all twenty-one protected people to one knee.
Kael remained upright. Blood ran from his palms, his left leg shook under him, and every breath pulled against the damage in his ribs. He forced his weight down until the stone cracked beneath his boots and the trembling stopped.
Four pale cords dropped from the Crown. One reached for Renn’s count cloth, another hovered over Vaela’s injured wrist, and a third followed the ruined line of Orrek’s shoulder. The last cord slid toward Jaro’s mouth whenever he tried to speak.
Vaela raised the white edge without taking her eyes from the cords. "It copied the other rooms and is reaching for the people who carried us through them. Keep it on you while I find the throat."
"Stay behind me, but keep moving," Kael said. "It has learned our injuries, so change your step before it can use the same wound twice."
Orrek drew the nearest survivors against the wall with his uninjured arm. "You heard him. Limp differently if you must, and try not to make me carry anyone with this shoulder."
Renn tightened the count cloth around his bleeding palm. "I still have twenty-one. I would prefer to keep the same answer when we leave."
The Crown contracted.
CLANG!
White bars rose in neat rows, joined by threads sharp enough to cut skin. Pale cords pulled the survivors toward separate gaps. Behind the bars, unfinished frames pressed from the walls with rib cages, bent arms, and blank heads. Bright marks predicted Kael’s blows before he moved.
Vaela followed the turning plates with narrowed eyes. Their faces covered cracks, but one dull seam remained along the lower-left curve. Each pulse began there before spreading into the floor.
"The thick tube beneath the left side is feeding the rest," she said. "Its plates keep closing over the damaged seam, and I need one opening before I can reach it."
Kael studied the bars between them. "Jaro, make the floor hesitate when I step. Renn, change the count when the cords pull. Orrek, keep everyone together."
Jaro lowered both palms to the stone. "Lying to a floor should be beneath my dignity, but the route took most of mine several rooms ago. Give me one breath."
He stamped toward the left wall, scratched two false heel marks toward the right, and rolled a stone down the center before dragging one hand sideways.
SCRAPE!
The row of bars shifted toward the wrong wall. Kael moved before the Crown corrected them.
He stamped hard enough to trigger the bright mark below his knee, stopped short of it, and drove his shoulder through the next bar instead. The Crown tried to adjust. Kael dropped beneath a pale chain, caught it across his forearm, and pulled until it struck the mark meant for his ribs.
CLANG!
The impact split the prediction apart, but the cords behind him tightened. Twenty-one wounded bodies slid across the floor, boots and knees scraping over stone.
Orrek planted himself against the rear wall and wrapped both arms around the nearest two survivors. His damaged shoulder struck first.
THUD!
Pain emptied the color from his face. He stayed on his feet and shouted for the others to lock elbows around him. Renn counted through the movement, pausing whenever his torn throat refused a number and forcing it out on the next breath.
"All twenty-one are still here," Renn rasped as the cloth cut deeper into his palm. "I will keep counting until this room releases them or my voice fails completely."
The cord around his cloth jerked. Vaela used the distraction to cut the wall beside the dull seam, carving a second crack that looked almost real. Several inner plates turned toward it at once.
"The opening is behind the false cut," she called. "You will have less than a breath before it closes."
Kael crossed the last row of bars. Hooks burst under his feet, and white chains struck his back from both sides. The Crown’s throat flared before he reached it.
Pressure crushed the air from his lungs. His knees bent, blood burst from his nose, and old wounds opened across his chest. The force did more than hold him in place. It drove every injury, every dragging cord, and every predicted strike through one point in his body until his right eye filled with red.
====================================================================
[ SOVEREIGN ROOT INTERFACE OVERLAY ]
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≫ HOSTILE PROTOCOL CROWN PRESSURE DETECTED: Route-Scale Command Node
≫ EXISTENTIAL SHARDS EXTRACTED: +5
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▶ AWAITING HOST COMMAND
====================================================================
Five Existential Shards entered the Sovereign Root. Kael chose where each one belonged before the Crown could tighten again.
Core Mass Density. Gravity Vector Impact. Regenerative Dominion. Metaphysical Resistance. Threat Perception Instinct.
ALLOCATE!
====================================================================
[ SOVEREIGN ROOT INTERFACE OVERLAY ]
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▶ MANUAL ALLOCATION COMMAND RECEIVED
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▶ SHARD ALLOCATION REGISTERED: +5 TOTAL
▶ ALLOCATION DISTRIBUTION:
- Core Mass Density -> 41
- Gravity Vector Impact -> 40
- Regenerative Dominion -> 30
- Metaphysical Resistance -> 42
- Threat Perception Instinct -> 29
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≫ POINT IMMENSITY RESPONSE: Protocol command pressure contested.
====================================================================
The floor sank beneath Kael as his weight increased. His ribs drew tight enough to hold another breath, his thoughts cleared, and a warning pulse showed him the instant before the throat sent its next order.
He rose through the pressure.
CRACK!
Hooks snapped beneath his boots. Kael drove his left forearm into Vaela’s false cut and tore the inner plates aside. His right shoulder followed, carrying the weight of his body into the exposed throat.
BOOM!
The ring folded around him. White arcs raked his spine while the cords dragged the survivors toward separate lanes.
Orrek’s knees buckled against the wall. "Keep your arms locked around me. The shoulder is already paying for this crossing, so make the pain earn its keep and hold on."
Renn pulled the count cloth to his chest. "I have all twenty-one, Kael. Break it before my voice gives out."
Jaro struck the floor twice with his palm, dragged his heel backward, and threw a broken hook toward the left wall. One bar followed the impact, another turned toward the heel mark, and the Crown paused between them.
Vaela saw the opening. "Its throat is pulsing below your right hand. The bright plate is hiding it, so reach under the light."
Kael followed the warning inside his skull. His fingers found a narrow gap where the Crown refused to shine. He pulled the hidden plate down and drove his knee upward.
THUD!
The throat struck his knee. Gravity Vector Impact drove through the contact.
SHATTER!
A crack raced from the lower-left curve to the top of the ring. White bars broke across the corridor. The cutting threads vanished, and the pale cords released the survivors so suddenly that several fell against Orrek.
The Crown tried to close around its broken throat. Kael caught the largest arc with both hands. Its edges cut to the tendons in his palms, but Regenerative Dominion sealed enough flesh to preserve his grip. He planted one boot on the channel and pulled the arc across it.
RIP!
The Crown screamed through every metal plate in the corridor. Kael lifted the broken arc and brought it down on the throat.
BANG!
White light burst outward. The turning plates struck the walls, the remaining hooks curled into ash, and the unfinished frames folded back into the stone before their hands cleared the bars. A downward passage opened where the fork had been, its steps made from dull red rock.
The survivors lay still for three breaths before Renn counted. His voice broke twice, but twenty-one answers remained, while a woman near the wall cried into her hands.
Orrek slid down the stone with two sleeves still trapped in his fists. "Both people are through, but the shoulder has stopped lifting. Help me lower the arm before the joint slips again."
Vaela knelt beside him and checked the swelling beneath his torn shirt. "Your shoulder held long enough to bring them through. Keep the arm against your ribs while I tighten the binding."
Jaro rolled onto his back. "I lied to a building during an execution. Please remember the useful part if Renn records this."
Kael pulled a metal splinter from his palm before answering. "Your false marks bought the breath I needed. Keep making them when the rooms begin predicting us again."
Vaela crossed to him and examined his hands. Fresh blood covered the new skin, and both arms shook from the forced changes.
"Did you keep anything in reserve?" she asked.
Kael flexed his fingers until the joints moved freely. "Nothing remains. I used everything I had to break it."
Heat rose from the red stair. Blood fell from his palm onto the first step.
DRIP!
The stone drank the drop without closing or changing shape.
Renn noticed first. "It took the blood, but I cannot see where it went."
Jaro pushed himself upright and squinted at the step. "I would enjoy one passage that does not taste us before deciding whether we may enter."
Vaela tightened the cloth around her injured wrist. "Collect the bowl and help the wounded stand. The Crown’s collapse shook the stair, and I would rather not meet anyone below while half of us are lying down."
Orrek looked toward a survivor holding the cracked bowl against her chest. "The bowl survived all of that? I am beginning to resent its health."
A laugh moved through the group. It sounded tired and improper in the ruined corridor, but it belonged to living people.
Kael stepped onto the red stair. Behind him, the ash cooled into a black mark shaped like a shut eye.
A bare heel scraped once across the red stone below.