Sarah stitched Naxra's advancing leg to her trailing leg—the same-position binding, both legs forced to behave as if connected to each other regardless of the distance between them.
Naxra's stride broke—both legs trying to maintain the distance a normal stride required while the stitch insisted they remain at a fixed relationship to each other.
She stumbled.
Caught herself with both hands on the floor.
The armor registered the contact—both palms striking stone, the impact of the stumble's catch.
Two more echoes.
Five total now.
Naxra rose—using the stumble deliberately now, understanding that contact with the floor generated echoes regardless of intention, every fall and every catch feeding the armor.
She let herself fall again—deliberate this time, both hands hitting the floor with controlled force.
Sarah stitched her hands to a position above the floor—the same three-inch barrier, preventing the contact before it could happen.
Naxra's hands stopped short.
No echo.
