Taboo Online

The warning remained above Lauren long after the eight elves reached Earth.

[Bridge integrity: 54%.]

[Source and destination bridge anchors under increasing strain.]

Red Hound watched the change in her breathing. "What did that crossing do to Luke?"

"The pressure reached his chest, and he can barely feel the hand touching the core." Lauren flexed her own fingers against the branch and felt only a weak response from the right. "We can’t send eight again."

"Then six remains the limit."

The destination network continued adjusting beneath the latest arrivals. Silver roots shifted under the grass and raised shallow ridges that guided the refugees away from the passage. Even with the living paths helping, the medical area had begun to overflow.

Families sat close together beneath open shelters while medics moved among them with scanners and open cases. The most serious injuries had been carried into the larger tents, although many elves refused to enter until a Rootkeeper or relative checked the interior.

Red Hound pointed toward an empty stretch of land beyond the original perimeter. "Move the family shelters there. Keep the medical lane open and leave enough room for stretchers to turn."

A Bureau coordinator looked toward the equipment occupying the same ground. "We don’t have enough marked medical space for another hundred people."

"Then clear the equipment zone."

"The generators and supply vehicles are staged there."

"Move them. The next group needs somewhere to land before those supplies become useful."

The coordinator studied the field, then nodded and began calling crews toward the vehicles.

Heroes retreated toward the outer lights while Bureau personnel relocated crates, portable generators, and transport equipment from the second protected area. The changes caused another wave of uncertainty among the elves.

Lauren carried the purpose of the movement through the bridge, choosing only the information they needed.

The humans are making more space. Families remain together. Keep the center path open for the wounded.

Their responses returned as emotion rather than clear words. Relief mixed with suspicion, while questions about missing relatives pressed against fears that accepting human treatment would place the wounded under Bureau control.

A woman near one of the medical tents suddenly shouted and pulled her son away from a scanner.

The boy had a deep burn along one arm. The medic had only lifted the device toward him, but the mother turned her body between them before anyone could explain.

Two Rootkeepers stepped forward.

Red Hound stayed where he was rather than adding another unfamiliar human to the confrontation. "What does she see?"

Lauren focused on the woman. The surrounding fear made the message difficult to separate, but the mother’s attention remained fixed on the light moving beneath the scanner’s casing.

"She thinks it will burn him again. She’s afraid it takes mana from whatever it examines."

"Have the medic use it on himself. Nothing touches the boy until she agrees."

Lauren tried to send the entire explanation at once. The meaning broke apart inside the bridge, and pain tightened behind her temples.

Rhea increased the support against her back. "Leave the rest of the field alone for a moment. Stay with the mother."

"The passage is still open."

"And no one is inside it."

Lauren drew a careful breath. She pushed the other emotions into the distance until only the mother’s fear remained.

The device only looks. It does not burn, cut, or take mana. The healer will show you first. You may stop him whenever you choose.

The medic pressed the scanner against his own chest and turned the display toward the woman. Pale light passed harmlessly over his uniform.

She watched him repeat the demonstration twice before allowing him to approach her son.

Lauren’s shoulders sagged against Rhea.

"The bridge keeps giving me everyone at once," she said. "I know one of them needs help, but I have to search through the others before I can find out who."

"Can you stop feeling the whole crowd without losing the translation?"

"I can narrow it. Their answers may come through less clearly."

Rhea adjusted her knee behind Lauren as another tremor passed through the field. "You already sort overlapping futures when Oracle’s Glimpse opens. Do the same here. Immediate danger first, direct questions second, and everything else can wait."

"Someone could still be calling for help."

"Then leave enough of the connection open to feel urgency. You don’t need every frightened thought in North Basin."

Lauren reached through the mark and narrowed the translation link.

The crowd’s emotions faded into a distant pressure. She could still send deliberate messages and feel urgent responses, but individual fears no longer struck her without warning.

The relief came too late for her hands. Both had stiffened around the branch, and the cold had spread halfway up her wrists.

A system window opened.

[Destination network adaptation complete.]

[Stable controlled load established: Six native residents.]

[Bridge integrity will partially recover between completed transfer cycles.]

Lauren read the messages aloud.

Red Hound moved closer to the edge of the root circle. "Does that mean six people can cross without lowering the bridge?"

"Not without lowering it at all." Lauren felt the roots settling beneath the latest arrivals and a small amount of pressure ease from her wrists. "The bridge is recovering some of what it loses between groups. Six people still strain it, but the damage won’t accumulate at the same rate if we wait for a full recovery cycle."

"How will you know when it has recovered?"

"The roots feel quieter. The system may confirm it too."

Another set of warnings appeared.

[Destination bridge anchor strain increasing.]

[Manual contact remains required.]

[Do not interrupt transplantation while living passengers occupy the passage.]

Lauren read those aloud as well.

Red Hound looked toward the green opening. "No one enters without Lauren’s confirmation. We wait for a full recovery cycle between every group, even if the passage looks clear."

The instruction crossed to Aelira, who stopped the next wave.

Before the Rootkeepers could reorganize the line, a deep vibration passed through the Central Heartroot.

Luke felt the movement through the core before the terraces reacted.

Silver rails rose along the outer paths. The branches supporting roofs and resting platforms withdrew toward the central trunk, leaving one upper chamber to fold slowly into the wall.

The remaining elves looked up.

A system window opened before Luke, Iris, Kellan, and Dorian.

[Central sanctuary transplantation unavailable.]

[Native resident population exceeds core transfer tolerance.]

[All native residents must vacate the sanctuary before core transplantation may begin.]

At the same moment, the terrace pulsed beneath Aelira’s hand and carried the same warning to her through the Heartroot.

The nearest paths fell silent.

Aelira had believed the Heartroot would need to carry the sanctuary and every survivor as one connected structure. The new bridge had created a different route. It was sending the elves first, leaving the Heartroot free to draw the empty sanctuary into its core afterward.

The silence did not last. Questions moved through the upper paths as the meaning spread among the survivors.

They had known Lethariel was lost. Seeing their shelters fold into the Heartroot made that knowledge harder to avoid. There would be no return once the final elf crossed.

Aelira kept one hand against the terrace until the pulse faded, then turned toward the Rootkeepers.

"Resume the evacuation. Six at a time, with full pauses between groups. Thornmenders will take the supplies they can carry. Leave anything that slows the wounded."

A senior Rootkeeper stepped forward. Half of his white-wood breastplate was missing, and dried blood covered the side of his neck.

"My Queen, you must cross while there is still a road."

Another Rootkeeper joined him. "We can command those who remain in your name. The people already on the other side do not know whether the humans will honor your authority. They need to see you there."

Aelira allowed the Thornmender to continue supporting her arm. She no longer had enough strength to hide the help she required, but her voice still carried through the sanctuary.

"I have ordered wounded elves, parents, and children through that passage while I remained here. I will not make myself the exception now."

"My Queen, Lethariel has lost nearly everyone sworn to protect your blood."

Aelira looked toward the final families waiting along the upper path. "Then those who remain should protect theirs."

The senior Rootkeeper did not lower his gaze. "If the bridge closes with you on this side, the survivors lose their Queen after losing their home."

"I know."

The simple answer silenced him more effectively than another speech would have.

Aelira looked toward the passage marshal. "Choose the next six."

The Rootkeepers bowed reluctantly and returned to the waiting survivors.