The Extra's Rise - Chapter 973

973: One Voice At The Door 973: One Voice At The Door The timer in the palace war room kept falling, its numbers steady and rude.

One hundred eighty-one days, twenty-three hours, fifty-eight minutes.

The tower’s thin, resonant hum came through the armored windows like a string pulled too tight, a constant reminder of the deadline.

“We go in teams,” Rachel said first, her voice sharp and decisive.

“Standard stack.

Redeemers lead with sealed lanterns.

We clean the base, and you write the entry sentence from a secure position.”  “No,” Luna said, her voice quiet but firm enough to command the room.

“If I cross the threshold first, the tower will mock Purelight.

If we cross as a ‘we,’ it will mirror that ‘we’ back at us, twisting our shared purpose into a weapon.”  “Then I go,” Seraphina offered, her presence like clean winter air.

“I can scout, mark the lanes, and call you in when a path is clear.”  “Or I do,” Reika added, her expression unreadable.

“I handle the rope.

I am faster to pull you out if something goes wrong.”  I let them speak, listening to the fear coiled beneath their perfect, professional plans.

Each proposal was a shield they were trying to place in front of me.

Around the oval table, the holos of the Empire’s most powerful leaders watched without blinking.

“It is not a nest to be cleared,” I said finally, and the room settled.

“It is a lock.

And locks like single keys.”  Cecilia did not look up from her slate.

“Translate from hero to policy.”  “It’s a language trap,” I explained, meeting the eyes of everyone in the room.

“The inner seam is a contract waiting for a signature.

If I bring six other voices with me, the tower will braid our wants, our fears, and our loyalties together.

It will hand me a compromised sentence that starts with ‘We,’ and we will lose before the first door opens.

If I walk in alone, it must deal with one grammar at a time.”  “That raises the risk of single-point failure,” Selene Kagu noted from her holo, her voice clinical and exact.

“A group entry raises the attack surface,” Charlotte countered from the array.

“One line of code is easier to defend than chasing bugs through seven.”  Rachel shook her head, her jaw set.

“You don’t get to decide this without us.”  “I don’t,” I agreed.

“But I have to argue for it.” I placed my hands on the brass rim of the table, keeping my voice plain.

“The outer shell is theater.

The inner access is contractual.

Purelight goes second.

Law goes first.

The first law I write must be a sentence that Lust cannot twist or echo.

That is my work.

If she wants a chorus, we will give her a solo and make her sing in my key.” “Romantic,” Lucifer’s holo commented.

“Also reckless.” “Accurate,” Eva Lopez corrected him gently.

The energy in the room shifted.

The argument was over.

The planning began.

“A rope,” Reika said, her voice cutting through the silence, and all eyes turned to her.

“A literal tether.

Pulse monitor and anchor line connected to the array, and to me.

If his heart rate spikes past the safe threshold, or if the line carries a hostile tone, I pull you out.

If the line goes slack, we do not rush in.

We change the field.”  “A cold ring on the approach,” Seraphina added.

“Two degrees, no frost.

It will feel like the air is about to rain.

People will go home on their own.”  “Redeemer teams will comb the base,” Rachel said, nodding.

“Closed lanterns.

We keep the ground honest while you work.”  “The city stays boring,” Cecilia affirmed.

“Tea carts.

Chairs for the guards.

Payrolls on time.

The ‘Say Less, Live More’ posters go up at every third corner.”  “Budget is live,” Quinn said, sliding his token to her.

“Spend what you need on boring.” I looked at the six women who share my life, the architects of this fragile shield.

“I am not safer than you,” I said to them directly.

“I am simply the right shape for the first step.

You hold the world steady while I set the first line.”  Rose’s jaw was tight, but she nodded.

“I can redraw seams from here.

If I see the tower create an echo or a delay in your actions, I will write ‘no echo’ across it and pass the data to Charlotte.” Reika’s violet eyes held mine.

“You come back when I tug the rope.”  “Yes,” I promised.

Seraphina set two fingers on the cool brass table.

“If your temperature spikes, I cool the air to slow the scene.

You breathe and buy time.”  “Yes.” Cecilia slid a sealed envelope across the table.

“Your authority, signed and stamped.

Even gods have to read the paperwork.”  Rachel’s hands were still clenched into fists.

“You send me your first line before you speak it.

If I raise my hand, you wait for Charlotte’s signal.

You will not perform a heroic act because you want to be brave.”  “Agreed.” Finally, Luna.

She did not move, but her presence was an anchor.

“Anchor to me,” she said.

“Not with light.

With breath.

Four in, six out.

One time, right at the threshold.”  “Yes,” I said.

Adeline looked around the ring of holographic and physical faces.

“Objections?”  “All of us,” Rose said, and a quiet murmur of agreement went around the table.  The Empress let the silence cool.

“Second Hero?” “I go alone,” I said, my voice firm.

“Valeria and Erebus are with me, inside my frame and in my head, but not as signatures the tower can grab.

No one else crosses the seam until I call it clean.”  “So ordered,” Adeline said.

“The Second Hero enters alone.

The Empire keeps the ground steady.

We will hold for six months if we must.

We will end it sooner if we can.”  Around the ring, the leaders of the Empire straightened.

“Second Hero,” Alastor Creighton said, his voice a promise.

“Second Hero,” from Lucifer, amused but sincere.

“Second Hero,” Quinn’s red gaze was unwavering.

“We stand behind you.” I exhaled slowly.

“Then I will prepare.”  No one argued again.

That is what real respect sounds like.

We filed out past the tall windows.

The tower cut the sky in a straight, impolite line, indifferent to the plans we had laid against it.

The countdown kept going, polite as a knife.

The city below was already starting to act like itself, on purpose.

We would win this battle with logistics, with quiet competence, with boredom.

I did not pretend my hands were not shaking.

I put them flat on my knees in the hovercar and felt the tremor leave, a little at a time.

I would go in alone.

They would hold the world for me.

I looked back once at the palace.

Six faces, one promise.

We would win quietly this time, or not at all.