WORLD OF FICTION (WOF)

Priya caught Dorian before pride put him on the floor.

He tried to pull away with his left arm.

"Don’t."

"I am standing."

"You are leaning on me."

"Temporarily."

"Your definition of standing is ambitious."

The entrance hall smelled of burnt paper and wet stone. Grey mist poured from the shrinking seam behind them, clinging to boots and torn clothing before fading into the Errata’s warmer air.

Toby sat down against the nearest wall without permission. Blood darkened the front of his trouser leg.

Mira still held the broken hilt of her knife.

Elias stared at the cuts across his palms as if surprised to find them there.

Casimir remained nearest the seam. He looked back until the last sliver of the Proving Ground vanished.

Achebe stepped into the middle of them.

"Medical."

One word.

Three duty Editors moved.

Dorian scowled when one approached.

Priya tightened her grip on his elbow.

"Try it."

He looked at her.

The old grey scar beneath his sleeve was louder than the rest of him.

Priya did not hear Ink the way other Editors described it. She noticed relationships: where force travelled, where attention caught, where one part of a person had begun relying too heavily on another.

Dorian’s scar had not torn open.

That would have been easier.

It had deepened.

The path from wrist to elbow had become a channel, and the Proving Ground had pulled through it hard enough to leave his hand disconnected from its own certainty.

His fingers still had blood.

Still had muscle.

The signal between intention and movement arrived thin, late, and sometimes not at all.

"How bad?" he asked.

He kept his voice low enough that the Medical Editor could pretend not to listen.

"I don’t know yet."

"You usually know."

"I usually have more than twelve seconds and a patient who isn’t trying to intimidate his own nerves."

"I’m not."

His little finger twitched.

The others remained still.

"Very convincing," Priya said.

Halcyon waited across the hall.

Their grey coat showed no ash despite the seam collapsing around them. They had the same mild expression as before, but their hands were clasped too tightly behind their back.

Priya looked at Achebe.

"Why are they still here?"

"Observer," Achebe said. "They were not permitted inside."

Halcyon inclined their head.

"The Proving Ground limits direct observers. Warden Achebe retained an external line. I retained the report channel."

"You watched."

"Yes."

"And you haven’t filed."

A pause.

"No."

That mattered.

Priya left Dorian with Medical only after he sat on a bench. He did so while making it look like a tactical choice.

She crossed the hall.

Halcyon watched her approach without moving.

"What are you changing?" she asked.

"The report is not written yet."

"That is not what I asked."

Something almost amused flickered across Halcyon’s face.

"You are considerably less pleasant after controlled stress."

"Toby nearly fell into an accounting decision."

"Then your mood is justified."

Priya stopped within arm’s reach.

"Three prior cases."

Casimir looked over.

Halcyon’s gaze shifted toward him, then back.

"The Framework mentioned them."

"We heard."

"I cannot disclose restricted case identities."

"You can disclose outcomes."

"I can disclose one outcome. None were acquired through the first method used against them."

"That is a careful sentence."

"It is the most honest sentence I am authorised to give."

Achebe joined them.

"Report."

Halcyon released one hand from behind their back. A narrow glass slate formed over the palm, blank except for a line waiting at the top.

"Observed group rejected stated valuation hierarchy. They redistributed effort across three structures, adapted after the initial method failed, and damaged the selection mechanism rather than accepting its priority."

Dorian spoke from the bench.

"Put that last part first."

Halcyon glanced at him.

"I considered it."

"Consider harder."

The Medical Editor pushed Dorian’s sleeve above the elbow. Grey light veined the inside of his forearm.

His expression did not change.

Priya knew him well enough to see how much effort that took.

Halcyon continued.

"The result is inefficient under the Framework’s standard models. It is also expensive to isolate. My recommendation will be observation rather than immediate acquisition."

Elias looked up from the bandaging around his palms.

"That sounds like good news phrased by someone who dislikes good news."

"It is time," Halcyon said. "Nothing more."

"How much?"

"I don’t know."

"Days?"

"I don’t know."

"Years?"

"I would be guessing."

Priya watched Halcyon’s eyes.

"You are afraid of the report succeeding."

The mild expression held.

Their silence did not.

Casimir moved closer.

"What happens to anomalous patterns under extended observation?"

"That depends on what they continue to do."

"That is what the reports say," Casimir replied. "What happens in practice?"

Halcyon looked at him for a long moment.

"When my Canon was valued, we cooperated. Efficiently. Every local authority agreed to the transfer terms because resistance appeared likely to increase civilian loss."

The hall quieted around them.

Halcyon’s voice remained even.

"We were praised for reducing correction costs. I have never seen the place again."

No one rushed to comfort them.

Priya respected the group for that.

Halcyon looked down at the blank slate.

"I have an imperfect relationship with tidy outcomes."

They began writing.

The glass filled with lines too quickly to read. Priya caught fragments: voluntary redistribution, priority failure, cost escalation, cohesion not reducible to central subject.

The phrase central subject made her jaw tighten.

Elias saw it too.

"Am I still the central subject?"

"In the original valuation, yes."

"And now?"

Halcyon stopped writing.

"Now the Framework is uncertain whether removing you would collapse the group or teach it to function more aggressively without you."

Toby let out a weak sound from the wall.

"Lovely. We’ve become threatening in both grief models."

Achebe gave him a look.

"What? I’m injured, not dead."

"That distinction may change if you refuse treatment."

Toby raised both hands and immediately winced.

Halcyon finished the report.

Before the slate closed, Casimir stepped sideways.

His eyes narrowed.

Priya saw nothing except the last lines collapsing into grey.

Halcyon saw him see something.

Neither spoke.

The slate vanished.

"Filed?" Achebe asked.

"Filed."

The Errata wards gave a low hum.

Somewhere deep in the building, a lock engaged.

Halcyon exhaled through the nose.

"No immediate retrieval order."

Priya hated the relief that moved through the room.

It was too quick.

Too dependent on someone else’s system choosing not to hurt them today.

"What did it answer?" she asked.

"Observation extension accepted."

"And the three cases?"

"Still restricted."

Casimir touched two fingers to the inside of his wrist.

An old habit.

Priya had seen him do it when remembering strings of numbers.

Halcyon’s attention flicked there.

So did hers.

The appraiser’s expression softened by a fraction.

"Do not mistake time for permission to become careless," Halcyon said. "The Proving Ground did not decide you were safe. It decided you were interesting to study."

Dorian’s hand jerked beneath the Medical Editor’s fingers.

He looked away.

Halcyon turned toward the front doors.

Achebe stopped them with one question.

"Why leave the reference code visible?"

Priya looked sharply at Casimir.

Halcyon did not turn back.

"I have no idea what you mean."

A lie.

Not a polished one.

The wards opened for them.

They left without another word.

The front doors closed.

For several seconds, only the Medical team moved.

Priya crossed to Casimir.

"What did you see?"

He recited a string of eleven symbols.

Not Errata notation.

Auditor notation.

Toby’s humour disappeared.

Achebe said, "Meaning."

Casimir looked toward the door Halcyon had used.

"A comparative file index."

"For the three cases?"

"For something attached to them."

Priya folded her arms.

"You are not opening it alone."

"I agree."

The answer came too easily.

"Casimir."

He looked past her.

At Toby.

"I need someone who knows how old field-observer reports were hidden inside supply traffic."

Toby’s face lost what colour the Proving Ground had left him.

"No," he said.

Casimir did not ask why.

That frightened Priya more than the answer.