From Human to Skeleton: Revived with Infinite System Crystals Chapter 732: No Door Without A Witness

The voice outside the basent used Ty's throat. That was the cruel part. Jade knew the difference anyway. The sound ca through the sealed stairwell door, through Kieran's gold wires, through Waddell's bent fra and Tyree's shoulder planted in front of the pantry. It carried rainwater, old jokes, a cracked apartnt window, and the last normal dinner she never got to finish.

"Jade," the voice said again. "Open the wrong door for ."

The little boy with the broken dinosaur started crying. Tyree turned first. He did not look at Jade. Good. He looked at the children, the wounded, and the adults who were about to beco stupid because familiar voices made people stupid faster than fear did.

"Everybody away from the stairs," he said.

One man near the folding tables did not move. He had a blood-soaked towel tied around his forearm and the blank face of soone who had spent the last hour being dragged by events too large for him.

"That sounded like the skeleton guy," he whispered.

Waddell's pistol shifted toward the stairwell.

"No one opens anything."

"But he saved us."

"Maybe," Waddell said. "This one has not."

That landed better than a speech. The man backed away from the tables. Tyree guided him with one hand and kept the other hand lit, low and ready, not showing off. Jade appreciated that. There were enough glowing things in the basent trying to make decisions for people.

Kieran stood three steps from the door with her bandaged arm lifted. Gold lines crossed the tal, the fra, the cracked tile around it, the air above the handle. Each line humd a little differently.

"It is testing nas," she said.

Jade pressed the heel of her clean hand against her left eye. The Reaper thread had gone quiet when Zunoder spoke. That was worse than pain. Pain at least had manners.

Rima stood near the milk coolers, coat open enough for Jade to see three knives, a roll of black thread, and a little book bound in sothing that should not have been leather.

"He is not testing nas," Rima said. "He is fishing for invitations."

Waddell glanced at her.

"Helpful distinction?"

"If you open a door for a monster, you made a mistake. If you invite a claimant, you made a record."

"I liked it better when you were less helpful."

"I am widely enjoyed in smaller quantities."

The stairwell door knocked once. Not a fist. A finger. Jade felt the white stones inside the nested pans answer. Every chip clicked against tal in the sa direction. Toward the stairs.

"Pan," she said.

Tyree grabbed the outer pan before anyone else could. He did not ask if it was safe. He had learned too much today for that.

"Where?"

"Middle of the room. On the floor. Nobody touches it with skin."

"Skin is most of what I brought."

"Use the towel."

Tyree wrapped the pan handle and slid both pans across the wet tile. The white chips inside rattled harder. The dead near the milk coolers twitched. Jade's hand closed around the clipboard.

"No," she said.

The Reaper thread pulled once behind her eye. It showed her the easy way: six dead bodies standing, six dead mouths answering the false voice, six dead hands barring the door forever. Strong. Efficient. Disgusting. She read the first na before the thought could finish tempting her.

"Aaron Pike stays down."

Private Pike settled. Waddell moved beside her. His voice was rough but ready.

"Corporal Janice Bell."

"Janice Bell stays down."

Kieran's gold wires flared as the stairwell door handle turned. The man with the towel backed into a table. Paper cups fell. Nobody cared. The handle turned farther.

"It is not breaking the lock," Kieran said.

Waddell kept the gun up. "Then what is it doing?"

"Convincing the lock it already agreed."

Rima made a small sound through her teeth.

"That is expensive work."

"Can you stop admiring it?" Jade asked.

"I can do both."

The handle stopped. Then the voice ca again, softer now.

"Jade. I am hurt."

Her whole body wanted to move. Romance was too clean a word for what happened when a voice had lived in your walls, your phone, your future plans, your dumb grocery argunts, and your worst grief. The sound reached places grief had left unlocked. She took one step.

Kieran caught her sleeve. Jade almost hit her. Kieran did not flinch.

"If he were outside," Kieran said, "he would tell you not to open it."

That hurt enough to work. Jade stopped.

"He would say sothing worse."

"Probably."

"He would make a joke first."

"Also probable."

The stairwell door knocked twice. Waddell looked at the clipboard in Jade's hand, then at the crowd.

"New rule," he called.

His voice had command in it. Not supernatural. Better. Human enough that people knew what to do with it.

"No door opens without three witnesses. One ard. One powered. One nad by Miss Fujiwara or myself."

An older woman near the pantry raised a shaking hand.

"What if our family is outside?"

Waddell's jaw worked once.

"Then we verify them."

"What if they are dying?"

Tyree answered that one.

"Then they can die mad at us for saving everyone else."

The woman stared at him. He looked sorry. He did not take it back. Good, Jade thought. Awful and good. Rima stepped closer to the nested pans and crouched without touching them.

"The room needs a boundary."

"We have walls," Waddell said.

"Walls are suggestions with paint."

"Of course they are."

Rima took the black thread from her coat and tossed it to Kieran. Kieran caught it. Gold fire crawled over her fingers and recoiled.

"This is jurisdiction thread."

"Temporary," Rima said. "Dirty. Ugly. Useful. Wrap it around the hinges, drain, vents, and the pan. Do not tie a knot unless you want the room to owe soone."

"Who?"

Rima smiled without any joy.

"Exactly."

Jade turned toward Waddell.

"Do it."

He did not argue. He pointed two soldiers at the vents, sent Tyree with the thread to the pantry drain, and ordered everyone who could walk to stand away from seams, doors, corners, and anything that had started whispering.

For one minute the basent beca work. Not hope. Work was better. Hope made people stare upward. Work put towels under knees, weapons in hands, nas on paper, children behind shelves, and black thread across places where the world had grown thin.

The voice outside stopped. That frightened Jade more. Kieran felt it too. Her gold wires dimd by half.

"It left."

Rima straightened.

"No. It found a cheaper listener."

Across the room, near the ergency exit that led into the old service hall, the man with the towel stared at the tal bar. His mouth moved. Jade saw the shape before the sound ca. Ty.

"Stop him!" she shouted.

Tyree moved. Waddell moved. Kieran's gold wire snapped toward the man. Too late. The man shoved the ergency bar with his wounded arm. The door opened half an inch. Ty's human voice breathed through the gap.

"Thank you."