Cassia saves Mara from a false priority tag. Ronan marks Cassia as a threat to kill-score order.
Cassia Rowe came back with the bell still ringing in her teeth and Tavi breathing beside her before the Host Bell finished lying. The Admission Ward timer cut itself into the glass above the supply drawers: 07:00. This time the drawers opened only a finger-width, enough to show red tokens, green strips, and one silver latch already slick with someone else's blood.
"Priority claim round," the Bell said. "Supplies may be earned by injury match or kill confirmation. Seven minutes."
Mara Veen stood near the west partition with a yellow tag blinking at her wrist. In the first loop, Cassia had barely noticed her before the room panicked. Now Cassia saw the mismatch immediately: Mara's tag flashed in time with the drawer lock, not her body. The Bell had made her a decoy key.
Ronan Pike noticed too. He moved through the crowd with a duelist's economy, a broken drawer handle in one hand. His red rank mark shone under his collarbone: three kills from previous rooms or previous people. Cassia did not know which was worse.
"Yellow priority buys supplies," Ronan called. "Hand her over."
Mara stepped back until glass touched her shoulders. "I am not a purse."
"In here, everyone is something."
Cassia got between them before the crowd could decide that sounded reasonable. The reset tremor turned her fingers clumsy, so she curled them into a fist and kept her voice flat.
"Her tag is wired to the drawer. Hurt her and the lock burns shut."
Ronan smiled at her. "You tested that?"
"I watched the Bell cheat once."
"Once is faith, nurse."
"No. Once is a start."
The timer hit 05:52. A man at the far end tried to yank a red token through the gap. The drawer bit down on his fingers and printed a new line of light over the glass: INJURY CLAIM INVALID. The crowd surged away from him, then toward Mara.
Cassia grabbed a fallen white tag from the floor and slapped it against the lock below the silver latch. The display shivered. The latch asked for three inputs: tag, timer, voice. Not treatment. Not medicine. A game mechanism pretending to be triage.
"Mara," Cassia said, "you hear clocks for a living?"
Mara's eyes sharpened despite the fear. "Dispatch. Emergency routing."
"Then call the seconds when the yellow pulse skips."
"Why?"
"Because that skip is the drawer asking whether you are alive or merely useful."
Ronan raised the handle. "This is adorable. Move, or I open the drawer with your skull."
Mara's voice snapped out. "Five thirty-one. Pulse skip. Five twenty-nine. Skip."
Cassia waited for the next stutter, then shoved the white tag into the latch. The drawer opened another inch. Not enough. The yellow light on Mara's wrist brightened, and Mara made a sound she tried to swallow.
"Pain tax," Ronan said. "Bell likes her better as currency."
"It likes all of us better as currency," Cassia said.
He leaned closer. "I can end her tax and take the points."
"You can kill the lock's key and leave this side of the ward with no supplies."
That changed the crowd faster than compassion would have. Two contestants who had been edging toward Mara turned on Ronan instead, not attacking, but blocking his line. Mara saw it. Her next call came louder.
"Four forty. Skip. Four thirty-eight. Skip."
Cassia worked the latch on each skipped beat. The silver edge sliced her palm the third time. Blood touched the drawer rail, and the Host Bell purred.
"Alternative claim detected. One self-injury may purchase priority override."
Ronan's gaze dropped to the blood. "There it is. Someone else's blood buys the seven minutes."
"Mine," Cassia said. "Not hers."
The drawer opened.
Mara lunged with her good hand and grabbed two green strips, then tossed one to Tavi without waiting for permission. The second she pressed against the false yellow tag on her wrist. It dimmed from yellow to white, then printed a small mark under Cassia's name in the glass: SAVE-CREDIT PENDING.
Ronan read it. His smile disappeared.
"You are making rescue score," he said.
"Looks like save-credit to me."
"That ruins the order."
"Good."
With eleven seconds left, the Bell tried one more bargain. "Kill confirmation remains available. Ronan Pike: double points for eliminating a pending save."
Ronan lifted the handle, and the blocked contestants scattered. Mara did not. She pointed at the timer with blood on her knuckles.
"Ten seconds," she said. "If he swings, he misses the bell."
Cassia believed her. That was new leverage, fragile and immediate. Ronan must have believed her too, because he stepped back with fury locked behind his teeth.
The bell rang.
Cassia woke on the same tile, palm whole, tremor worse. Mara woke standing, her hand already raised toward the west drawer.
"Cassia," Mara whispered before the Host Bell spoke. "I remember your voice."