Page 165 of Destined For Her Alien Daddy

“No.”

“But we could be alive.”

“Yes.”

“And we could have a place where the biggest emergency is Brakk rewiring the kitchen because he thinks standard appliances are an insult.”

From beyond the barrier, Brakk shouts, “I heard that, and standard appliances are an insult!”

Anita laughs through tears.

Sira calls after him, “Focus on the escape route.”

“I am focusing! I can focus and be correct about appliances at the same time.”

The archive field shivers again, and the moment fractures. Red points on the route display multiply as Choir forces split into two assault groups.

Sira raises her voice. “Ghar, Anita, the eastern fold path is still intact, but it will not stay that way. Brakk can anchor a temporary exit corridor if we leave within minutes.”

Brakk appears at the barrier, dragging a cable spool nearly as large as his torso. “Correction. I can maybe anchor a temporary exit corridor if the planet stops doing drunk mathematics. Which it will not. So everyone should appreciate me now.”

Ghar—no, I am Ghar, I remind myself, because the shock of tenderness has loosened my own narration inside my skull—turns back toward Rolaev .

She has been watching us in silence.

The destruction key still burns above her palm, but her expression is different. Not softened. Not persuaded. But the certainty has hairline cracks.

“You mistake personal attachment for universal principle,” she says.

Anita wipes her cheeks with her sleeve. “No, I am using personal attachment to remember why universal principles matter.”

“Love cannot stabilize a civilization.”

“Maybe not by itself,” Anita says. “But neither can fear.”

Rolaev ’s eyes move to me. “You would die to defend an archive that may one day destroy everything your species believes.”

“I would die to prevent you from destroying the future’s right to become wiser than we are.”

“And for her.”

I do not deny it. “Yes. And for her.”

Rolaev ’s gaze lingers on my face. “Then you have rebuilt your shrine quickly.”

“No.” I release Anita’s hands and draw my weapon. The familiar weight settles into my palm, practical and finite. “I have stopped needing one.”

The archive trembles as the first distant impacts reach the chamber. Choir charges. Controlled blasts. They are breaching the outer folds.

Brakk curses with impressive creativity. “We have company in five minutes if the corridors stay weird, two if they get lucky, and thirty seconds if reality decides to be a bastard.”

“Prepare the route,” I say.

“I am preparing the route. Look at me, preparing! Very prepared for a man who hates everything happening.”

Sira moves to Anita’s side of the barrier interface. “Anita, if you can stabilize the preservation field long enough to copy a restricted fragment set, we may be able to withdraw without surrendering the whole archive.”

Rolaev ’s cries out “No fragment leaves.”