Witches. Two by two they pour into the building. Eight -- no, six. You can hardly see through the shattered glass of the air -- nor hear through the ringing of the bells. They're gripping you by the collar of your jacket, improbable strength in the small wrists, pulling you away from the exploding server. The bodies swarm around her. Sixvoices like quicksilver: "Ameli! Veil! Veil! Veil!"

One strides past. The last thing you see as you're dragged out is her frame blanketed by fractal light, arms outstretched, a sword in each hand, rainbowed by the crystallising silica. Her shadow eats the double-vaulted shelter door.

"Okay, okay, I think you need to say your name. Say it twice." Sixvoices sixhands press the vocoder to your lips. Your lungs, you think, are made of steel wool.

"R… Ryana Hirdayu. Ryana Hirdayu." Clearer now though the air still rings.

"You're you yet. Let's try this, this." Small hands slip silver needle into vein of neck. Cold sting in your spine. She's smiling. "Fixative."

"Your colleague, the breach..."

"Ameli, Ameli, she is less real than me, she will hold." Sixbodies is holding up the lantern. She is intubating your neck. She is prancing around the room, she is setting your arms and legs in place. Tall but she can't be more than sixteen. Her witch's cloak hangs loose around her shoulders. "I'm more real, so we're here. What manner of djinn is this?"

"I was told it was a low-level ifrit, caught in the fibre-optics. Runs denoising for the timing protocol. They said we were registered when I joined, I swear."

Sixheads, now five, reading off the vocoder. "It says you need to keep talking." Over you she looms. "Makes the space a little less loud, makes it more real. Do you have a favourite colour? Animal? What did you do before this? What did you have for lunch?"

You nod, uncomprehendingly. "Amber. Elephant shrew. I was in devops, the ringrunner, the sword. I designed passphrases to placate the spent traces. They sent me to check on the server when the alarms went off. There was cold macaroni in the pantry, it wasn't mine, but I was really hungry. I opened the case. I was hungry, I'm sorry."

She is holding you down, she is listening. Fourvoices four four four. "Keep talking. Why did you do it?" Bright shadows dance around the bottom of the vault door frame.

You swallow. You swallow and it does not get any easier. "Your friend outside the room, should we -- should we go outside? I don't know what I was thinking. I was hungry. Are we going to be okay?" You don't know why you're sweating.

"There is no room outside. She is not real. There's just us." Three mouths drool. "Shit, you need to focus. Keep saying your name, keep saying it!"

"Ryana. I -- I --" The witch picks you off the ground and fourhandswise drape her cloak around your shoulders. She is so young, and it's shimmering, like a fire, like a fire blanket, warm like one too. Door's bright and cold. You try to speak but you can't feel your throat. Twofingers on your temples, she's looking at you with her two eyes.

"Fuck." She's livid. "Ameli, we need to --"

Suddenly you're standing there on your own free will. The witch is gone and so is the floor. The room is a dialtone, a cold, black vise.