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“Can it be stopped?” Julen asked again.

“It’s complicated. If we disrupt the alignment without control or too early, it could be worse.”

Julen frowned. “Worse than everyone dying?”

“Yes,” Caelith said, without hesitation.

Maia stepped closer again.

“So we don’t disrupt it blindly,” she said. “We do it properly.”

Caelith’s expression sharpened. “You don’t know what that costs, Maia. This has been ongoing for centuries.”

“Then explain it. Please.”

“You would need to access the harmonic structure directly,” he said. “At the point of convergence. While it’s active. And then return to its source.”

Julen let out a dry laugh. “That sounds deeply unsafe.”

“It is,” Caelith said.

Maia didn’t look away. “You built it. Whatever else is true, you know how it works better than anyone alive.”

Caelith exhaled slowly. “Not like this.”

He shifted slightly, gesturing to the rest of the room that clearly had a hold on him. He took in a deep breath, and sighed, running his hands through his hair.

“How do we get you out?” Maia asked.

Julen looked between them. “Yes, great plan. How exactly?”

Maia stepped closer to the slab, the markings similar to the ones outside of the room. “These etchings - they’re tied into the same system,” she said slowly. “The markings. The flow. It’s like the path outside… it’s all connected.”

Caelith’s eyes grew wide. “You can see that?”

“I don’t need to see it,” she said. “I can feel it.”

“Maia,” he said, quieter now. “If you interfere with those restraints incorrectly, it could trigger a feedback surge.”

She met his gaze. “Then you’ll tell me how not to.”

Caelith glanced toward the corridor, his expression tightening slightly.

“We can’t act yet,” he said. “The outer alignment is still shifting, it won’t hold there until at least sunrise. If we move now, we risk triggering it early.”

Maia turned back towards the slab and her hand missed it. Her fingers closed on air six inches from the stone and she corrected it without comment, fairly certain neither of the other two had seen her stumble.

“Maia?” Julen said. They had seen.

“You’ve been moving all night,” Caelith said. “You’re exhausted.”

Maia opened her mouth to argue.

“You won’t be able to do this if you’re not thinking clearly,” he added, quieter. “And I need you thinking clearly.” He paused. “Stay here. Rest. I’ll make sure nothing reaches you.” He glanced toward the narrow alcove behind him. “You can use it.”

“What about Julen?” she asked.

Julen exhaled, glancing between them before stepping back toward the corridor. “I’ll take the outer passage and try and rest there,” he said. “If anything moves, at least I’ll hear it before it gets close.” He looked back at Maia. “Please, Maia, you look like you’re about to collapse.” Then, to Caelith, more measured: “Keep her safe.”