Chapter 178: Astra Signs Up to Support the World in Shifts

The synchronization chamber was a five-meter cylinder of clear crystal suspended within a web of black-bronze conduits.

Astra rolled up the sleeves of her pink jacket and stepped inside.

At the console, Lucian dropped a thick, red-bound document in front of Vane.

The inspector looked at it. “What is this?” “Worker-protection addendum.”

“The temporary Keystone protocol is three pages.” “It’s sixty-two now.”

Astra had won the argument about the maximum term. Lucian had won several arguments about what the word maximum meant.

He opened the addendum to page nineteen.

“Three months. Health and soul-integrity checks every twenty-four hours. Immediate withdrawal on request. No automatic conversion to permanent status. Mandatory disconnection if the agreed safety threshold is exceeded.”

Vane read farther down the page.

“The operator may suspend extraction for fifteen minutes to eat strawberry ice cream?”

“Statutory break.”

“The continental supply will fluctuate.”

“Then the nonessential loads can wait. That’s why we’re installing buffers.”

Behind the glass, Astra gave him a thumbs-up. The platform beneath her began to glow.

She placed her palm on the receiving sphere. Gold and blue streams of mana wound through the conduits, connecting her enormous reserves to the Tower’s ley-line network.

Lucian’s interface displayed the readings.

[TEMPORARY SYNCHRONIZATION STARTED]

Operator: Astra. Consent: CONFIRMED.

Emergency release: Operational.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Continental readings: Within current safety limits.

[LEGACY OPTION DETECTED]

PERMANENT LOCK.

Claimed benefit: Improved long-term barrier stability. Authorization: DENIED.

The old controller kept offering it.

One click for its best stability model. One sixteen-year-old girl who would never leave the machinery again.

Lucian dismissed the proposal.

Astra’s brow tightened as the load increased. His hand shot toward the red disconnect lever.

“I haven’t asked you to stop,” she said through the microphone. His fingers closed around the handle.

The pressure readings were still inside the limits they had agreed on. Astra met his eyes through the glass.

Slowly, he let go.

“Hard?” Eleanor asked beside him. “Very.”

“Good.”

He turned his head. “What kind of comfort is that?”

“The kind you get from someone who’s about to have this argu-ment with you herself.”

The System opened a small window.

[HOST STATUS]

Anxiety is not a combat statistic.

Please stop requesting additional heart-rate measurements.

“Lucian,” Astra called.

His hand flew back to the lever. “Do I get extra ice cream tonight?” Nobody spoke.

Lucian let go and rested his forehead against the cold glass. “I hate you.”

“Is that a yes?” “Yes.”

The thirty-minute test cycle ended without incident. The chamber vented and opened, allowing Astra to step out and brush down her skirt while the temporary buffers took over.

Beyond the Tower, a steady golden glow passed through Solaris’s mana grid.

Below, people dropped to their knees. The amplified announce-ment reached the control room with distressing clarity.

“SAINT ASTRA HAS BECOME THE EMPIRE’S ETERNAL PIL-LAR!”

Lucian took out his phone and sent Sylvia a message.

Correction. Immediately. THREE-MONTH TEMPORARY CON-TRACTOR. If our publicity staff use “eternal,” dock their entire adver-tising budget.

He turned to Astra. “Still want to do it?”

She accepted a cup of warm water from Sylvia. “Yes.” “Still three months?”

“If you need—”

“No. Three months is the limit. If we’re finished sooner, you leave sooner. We don’t change it to ‘as long as somebody needs you.’”

She looked at him, then smiled. “All right, Lucian.”

Evelyn’s keyboard rattled in the corner. “Look at this.”

She brought up an odd fluctuation recorded during synchroniza-tion.

[LEGACY NETWORK DIAGNOSTIC LOG]

Load redistributed through seventeen secondary relay stations. Recorded transfer time: 0.83 seconds.

Mechanism: UNKNOWN.

Evelyn studied the seventeen small lights on the map. “Unknown, my ass.”