Chapter 700: Trapped

"Stacy Renault is dead. My son is in Association custody pending formal charges of attempted murder in the first degree. The Ashbound guild’s competition standing has been suspended, our brand partnerships are being reviewed as we speak, and three of our six active sponsors have requested emergency clauses in their contracts." She paused. "This is where we are."

Neither woman spoke.

"The funeral arrangements for Stacy will be handled with full honors. Her family will be notified through proper channels, though I imagine they already know. The costs associated with the service, transport, and family compensation will be covered." She straightened. "Additionally, my son’s legal defense will require substantial resources. Specialist counsel. Association arbitration fees. Judicial board filing costs. Character testimony coordination. The preliminary estimate is one million Chronos, and that number will likely climb. Lawsuits are a different beast in the awakened world."

She looked at them.

"Both expenses will be split among all active party members."

The tent was silent for two seconds.

"What?" Brittany’s voice came out thin.

Trisha leaned forward. "We’re paying for Ash’s legal defense? He’s the one who-"

"He is a member of your party," Maeve said, and her tone flattened the objection before it could build momentum. "As are you. The obligations are mutual."

"Stacy’s funeral, fine," Trisha said, and her hands had curled into fists on her knees. "Of course we’d help with that. She was our friend. But Ash got himself arrested because he lost control on a live broadcast. That’s not our-"

Maeve reached into the folder on the table and withdrew a document. She set it down, turned it so the text faced them, and placed one finger on a highlighted clause near the bottom of the sixth page.

"Section fourteen, paragraph two." Her voice was level. "I will read it for you. ’In the event that any active member of the designated party led by Ash Ashbound incurs loss, injury, legal proceedings, disciplinary action, or financial burden arising from or in connection with official guild operations, all remaining active party members shall contribute proportionally to the mitigation, remediation, and resolution of said burden. Each member’s contribution shall be calculated in proportion to their documented net worth at the time of assessment, including but not limited to liquid assets, equipment valuations, and outstanding compensation. Covered expenses include legal representation, arbitration fees, medical expenses, restitution, and associated costs.’"

She lifted her finger from the page.

"You both signed this document. Willingly. Stacy signed it as well."

Brittany stared at the clause. She remembered signing the contract. She remembered Ash explaining it to them over drinks in the guild hall lounge, his smile easy and warm and confident, his arm draped over their shoulders as he’d told them what the clause meant.

’This is the safety net,’ he’d said. ’It means if anything ever happens to any of you, the guild and I will cover it. Your families, your medical bills, your legal protection. Proportional to net worth means I carry the weight, because I have the money and you don’t. You’ll never have to worry about any of it. That’s what being part of my team means.’

The math had made sense at the time. Ash was worth hundreds of millions just by being an Ashbound, an S-tier combatant with family money, personal contracts, and a revenue stream that dwarfed anything the three of them combined would see in a decade. His proportional share of any burden would have been ninety-five percent or higher. The clause was designed to reassure them, and it had worked because the numbers only pointed one direction.

Trisha leaned forward. "Screaming "I’ll kill you" at a man on live television isn’t a guild operation... The clause says ’arising from official guild operations.’ It doesn’t cover your son’s personal crimes."

"The charges arose during an active competition deployment under the Ashbound guild’s operational banner," Maeve said. "Next."

Trisha tried again. "Ash is still a party member. Proportional to net worth means he covers almost all of it. He’s worth more than the rest of us combined twenty times over."

Maeve’s expression didn’t change.

"My son has never held personal assets. His accounts, his equipment, his revenue streams... all of it is Ashbound family property, managed under the guild’s financial umbrella. What he spent was an allowance. What he earned was ours. The guild has initiated a formal review of all internal disbursements to Ash Ashbound. His allowance has been suspended and his documented net worth at time of assessment is zero."

The tent was very quiet.

Brittany felt the floor tilt beneath her.

The money Ash had flashed in front of them, the lifestyle, the promises that he’d carry the financial weight because he had hundreds of millions and they didn’t... none of it had ever been his. It was his mother’s money on his mother’s accounts, given to him at his mother’s discretion, and the woman sitting across the table had just turned the tap off and pointed the contract at the two people who remained.

They weren’t broke. Six months of A-tier combat earnings, alongside debasing themselves on camera for millions of people, had made both of them wealthy by any normal standard. Monster drops at their level paid handsomely, millions of dollars flowing through their accounts every month, the kind of money that would have made their parents weep.

The problem was that the money left as fast as it arrived.

A luxury mansion in an awakened residential district, because A-tiers couldn’t live among civilians without security protocols that cost more than the rent. A vacation villa for downtime between deployments. A supercar for Brittany’s father, because buying her parents’ silence felt easier than earning their respect. Artifacts the guild didn’t cover, the personal ones that kept you alive in zones where guild-issue gear wasn’t enough, and no sane awakened skimped on those because the alternative was dying. Dining, travel, the thousand small luxuries that came with being young and rich and surrounded by people who spent the same way.

They could retire tomorrow. Liquidate every asset, sell the mansions, sell the cars, sell the artifacts, and live comfortably for generations without working another day.

But one million Chronos was a different conversation entirely.

"You’re asking us to pay for everything," Brittany whispered. "You took his money and now you’re pointing the contract at us."

"I am not asking anything of you," Maeve countered. "I am informing you of your contractual obligations. Your proportional shares have been calculated based on documented net worth at time of assessment. With Ash Ashbound’s documented net worth assessed at zero... the remaining obligation falls to the two active members. Five hundred thousand Chronos each. You have seventy-two hours to confirm your financial commitment. If you fail to comply, the guild will pursue the matter through formal channels."

"You’re forcing us to sell everything we own?!" Trisha said, and her voice had gone flat. "To pay for your son’s lawyer. After your son got our friend killed."

"Even if we did sell everything, we’re still in the red!" Brittany screamed.

Maeve gathered the document and returned it to the folder.

She looked at them one final time.

"That will be all. Thank you for your time."