The next week felt like torture to Iyojin.

Firstly, she had had to announce her decision to her Orb Mother - who had clearly not been pleased by her decision to go gallivanting off to some Tournament, away from the reliable research labs of the Paperhall. Fortunately, framing it as beneficial for her future had helped mollify the woman, if only slightly.

She had tried to work on her final project’s Weave again, working the conductive Titan Silk into the harvested body parts in an effort to revive the powerful abilities locked within.

That had stalled out again, however. No matter how many angles she tried to tackle it, binding every aspect together in a functional manner was simply too complex - she had to build in redundancy after redundancy, and then the individual patterns began to interfere with each other… it was a headache, put simply.

Worse, Gihan’s visits were near daily, now. Every time she saw him she felt a twinge of guilt race up her spin, reminding her that she was essentially leading him on with her project, lying about its potential in order to go on what ultimately amounted to a vacation.

Paperhall was simply too tense a building for her, at the moment. Every moment she spent within its depths was a reminder that nothing was going right.

She’d tried getting away to clear her head - even visited Kagino’s with Gihan and his friends again - but nothing in Swarm Cradle seemed to work. The fights were too infrequent, lacking in the sheer brutality and skill that had made the battle between two Executors compelling.

They had been a one-week only booking, apparently - a combination of luck, bribery and blackmail coming together to put on a show that would go down in the annals of Kagino’s history. Most of the time the battles were far more tame, or between an unarmoured human and a lame Titan.

The company had been anxiety-inducing too. The others were boisterous and enthusiastic, especially with regards to her decision to accompany them to the Tournament… but Geonbi had just observed her, with those mysterious green eyes.

It sent a shiver of discomfort through her body at the memory.

Once upon a time, Weaving had been her chosen pastime, one encouraged by her Orb Mother. Learning to take the intricacies of Titan biology, find out what makes them tick, and recreate it in a simple (or, usually, not-so-simple) silken pattern… it had mesmerised her.

Now any attempts to do so felt like a reminder of the one she was neglecting.

At times it felt like the entirety of the underground society was a trap, closing in on her, every single person caught within and demanding that she get to work, contribute, provide them with what she’d promised-!

Overwhelming didn’t begin to cover it.

And so she’d put in her request for a trip topside.

The above-ground element of Swarm Cradle had begun as a simple trading outpost, apparently, back in the time of Queen Caeros, the first Weaver. They were protected in their subterranean chambers, but the opportunity to receive knowledge and goods from other places was vital.

Over time, something of a shanty town had sprung up, and then that shanty town had become a society of its own, one that saw no need for reliance on their disturbing, underground neighbours. The Schism had been a dark time in Swarm Cradle’s history, when the topsiders had decided the only remedy was force.

They had forgotten - or perhaps they had chosen not to know - that it was Swarm Cradle who protected them from the dangers of the wilds. They had forgotten that Swarm Cradle was the one with the weapons - the ones with Chitin.

Topside had been brought back under control, now entirely subservient to the whims of society below - and when their workforce was lacking, or the children displayed particular talents, they were taken. Usually by force.

Iyojin had rarely dwelt on topside - her only memories were faint, oversaturated, and seemed unreal. Besides, life in the Cradle had been good to her - she was encouraged to pursue an art which fascinated her, and practically guaranteed a comfortable life in good standing.

Now, however, escaping to her past seemed like the only avenue of relief.

Not that she necessarily was trying to escape Swarm Cradle, per se. That being said… perhaps a look at her past would help reorientate her future? She felt adrift, at the moment, battered by constant waves from every direction. If she could see where she had come from, would that help her focus on where she was going?

Iyojin had no idea, truth be told. But the anxiety of waiting for her trip to the Tournament was punishing, and this had been her only idea.

Requests to visit topside where considered by Palace officials, sequestered as they were within the cocoon built into the ceiling of Swarm Cradle’s chamber. They controlled passage of individuals into the city - tourism, mostly, for people wanting to visit the above-ground subordinate state.

Travel was heavily restricted, of course - smuggling was often a problem with topsiders, who would pay ridiculous amounts of money for either Cradle secrets or samples of their Titan Honey.

Thankfully, Yatsuki had helped her with her application process, and then mentioned that she was visiting the Palace that night anyway, and dropped off her application for her.

Her permission slip had arrived via Blowfly courier the very next morning. So much for bureaucracy being restrictive, hm?

She decided not to mention her trip to Gihan. He was already far too invested in visiting her, wanting to know where she was, asking for any updates on her project - she doubted he would want her to risk herself topside, not when Schism nationalists could lurk round any corner.

Iyojin practically rolled her eyes whenever that threat was considered relevant. The Schism was ancient history, and Executors had brought the city under control, now. There was no more chance of rebellion.

She idly wondered if she would come across her parents.

Even if she did, it was doubtful she would recognise them. Iyojin was of typical topside appearance - the shaggy brown hair, the broad features, and eyes that were slightly-too-far apart marked her as different from Swarm Cradle purebreds. Most of the topsiders looked like her - she would never be able to locate blood relatives in that sea of similarity.

The Blowfly rider she had paid to ferry her to the topside Travel Gate landed deftly on one of the empty perches, jutting out below the cocoon. He swiftly bid her farewell and took off as she dismounted - ferriers needed to make dozens of trips a day to make back the money they needed to afford the Titan Honey their Blowflies required.

She climbed the stairs inset into the dock quickly, ascending up to the waiting room with speed. She was in her casual wear, given that she wasn’t permitted to bring her Chitin topside, and felt practically naked - she wasn’t used to being away from her Spinnerets for so long.

Inside the waiting room was a hum of conversation and tourists - or so Iyojin assumed, based on their fancy garb. Some were dressed less finely, perhaps merchants looking for topside trinkets they could sell, and some even looked semi-professional. Perhaps they were Palace officials, going to observe and make their reports on topside to the Queen?

Iyojin checked her documents. She had received the blue stamp, which directed her to stand in a short line on the far side of the room. The other lines moved glacially, or in one case not at all - but the blue line had only three or four waiting at a time at most, and never for very long.

Iyojin meandered over to stand in line, behind a family wrapped in immaculate, shimmering robes of painted silk.

It was Titan Silk, she noticed with irritation. A waste of valuable Weaver material.

The line, as expected, did not last long, and she was soon waved up to the booth, behind which sat a dour-looking man in drab garments. He took one look at her and sighed.

“Ma’am, re-entry for topside citizens is handled in the yellow line, over there,” he said, his tone exasperated. He gestured to a line populated by perhaps a dozen individuals, each of them looking frustrated. It was the stopped line.

Instead of responding, Iyojin placed her documents on the table in front of him.

Sighing, the man tapped at the sheaf of paper. “Ma’am, please listen, you aren’t-”

His eye caught the blue stamp at the top of the document, and he rapidly went pale.

“My apologies, madam,” he said, voice now hurried, rushing to sign something at the bottom of the page. “Please continue ahead, a guide will be waiting to show you around the city.”

He bowed his head, and Iyojin gathered up her documents and walked past.

Odd.

Indeed, waiting beyond the booth was a cluster of men and women in official-looking yellow uniforms, each with a Stinger blade hanging at their waist.

The one closest to her, a woman with a black ponytail pulled tight against her skull, stepped smoothly forward and bowed a little.

“If you will accompany me, Madam, we can begin the journey topside.” She held out one hand to gesture towards the far side of the cocoon, where a hole cut into the side revealed a gloomy chamber.

Iyojin nodded, following her lead, and they approached the exit - which quickly revealed itself to be an enormous shaft leading upwards, towards a bright circle of sunlight. She nearly winced just at the tiny disc of brightness, and suddenly wondered if a visit topside was the right thing at all.

“We will just be waiting on the Dragonfly ferry, madam, and then your trip can begin.” The woman continued. “Would you like to hear a little about the city itself before we go?”

Iyojin hesitated for a moment, then nodded.

“The topside city of Upcott was established over three hundred years ago, with its formal origins in the trading posts Queen Caeros created to encourage contact with outsiders…”

As their Dragonfly approached, Iyojin couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of apprehension for the world above.