Chapter 17 · Harbor Descent

The fish sigil door hung off its hinges. Tunnels stank of burned sugar and ozone.

Kael led—Dorian on his left, Liora on his right, Corin trailing, Tamsin and Vesper managing wards behind, Renn carrying medical kit he didn't know how to use.

Reflections in black glass no longer lagged. They reached out.

Liora sang low—measure thirty, unfinished, raw.

Reflections recoiled.

Confluence chamber had changed. Glass floor healed to obsidian. The breach still visible below—a sealed scar pulsing light.

"Entry point?" Dorian said.

Corin pointed. "Through the scar. Only bloodline."

"I go," Kael said.

"Together," Dorian said.

"Together," Liora echoed.

Corin hesitated, then joined. "Sixty-three iterations. I'm not watching from shore."

They cut palms, pressed hands to scar.

The world inverted. Salt crusted Kael's lips before they reached the first tunnel turn. The harbor stairs had always smelled of rot and opportunity; today they smelled of decision. Every step down was a step you couldn't iteration away from. Shared loop or not, bodies could break and stay broken.

"Ward keys hot," Vesper called from the rear. She'd wired Tamsin's artificer tools into a harness that hummed against the black glass walls. "Pulse in nine minutes.