Chapter Text
————70————
Hornet's words were like a boulder thrown into still water, sending silent yet violent ripples through the room.
"What did you just say?" Lace stood up abruptly from her chair, her fork clattering onto her plate. Her eyes were filled with disbelief.
Phantom also set down her teacup, the cup and saucer clinking with a sharp, jarring sound. "Someone is breaking the seal in the Cradle?"
If that seal were destroyed, the Grand Mother Silk would awaken from her dream-slumber. And when she realized Phantom and Lace had turned away from her, her wrath would likely consume all of Pharloom.
Hornet's hand was already on the doorknob. She paused at the question, her tone grave. "The Radiance sensed a clear, targeted assault in the dream realm. Moreover, the attack is happening in the physical world, directly impacting the seal's structure within the sanctuary. The process is slow, but this method is very effective and difficult to disrupt remotely."
"Who would do such a thing?" Phantom pressed immediately, her fingers unconsciously gripping the table's edge.
Bugs with both the capability and the motive to do this were few and far between. Most bugs didn't even know of the Grand Mother Silk's existence.
"Unclear at the moment," Hornet shook her head. "The Cradle's sealing mechanism is unique. It protects the being within while simultaneously isolating it from any external scrutiny."
"Even the Radiance herself cannot project her perception directly inside right now to see the intruder's face. She can only sense the seal being pried at."
Lace's face had paled. She walked around the table, quickly approaching Hornet. "Then... did the Radiance say how long the seal can hold?"
Hornet was silent for a moment before delivering the heart-sinking answer. "Three days. At most."
"Three days?!" Phantom's breath hitched. This timeframe was far more urgent than she had anticipated. "But traveling from the City of Tears, taking the fastest train to Pharloom station, takes a full four days! That's not even counting the time needed to travel from the station to the Cradle!"
She did a rapid calculation. The conclusion was despairing—there simply wasn't enough time.
By the time they arrived, it would likely all be over.
"So," Hornet's voice was resolute as she turned the doorknob, "I must race against time now. At the very least, I must enter the Citadel before the Grand Mother Silk is fully released and awakens, to suppress her once more or... defeat her completely."
Her goal was clear, carrying an almost desperate determination—the final plan for the worst-case scenario.
Just as she was about to step out, Lace rushed forward, reaching out to tightly clutch the corner of Hornet's cloak.
"Wait!" Lace's voice was hushed but urgent. "Little spider, the Knight—it usually stays in Hallownest, right?"
Hornet frowned slightly, unsure why Lace suddenly brought this up. "Its whereabouts are unpredictable. Sometimes it’s in Hallownest, other times it ventures to the wastelands or even farther."
"No, I don’t mean that 'it.'" Lace leaned in closer, almost pressing her face against Hornet's, and spoke rapidly. "I mean the 'other it.'"
"You’re referring to... the one from the original timeline?" Hornet paused. "I’m not entirely certain. I thought I’d never see it again."
"Then why don’t we just go ask it ourselves?" Lace gave Hornet a playful wink.
Hornet froze for a few seconds before immediately grasping Lace’s implication. Her pupils dilated slightly as her mind opened up to a completely new direction.
"That might indeed be a good idea."
Though their conversation was hushed, Phantom, standing nearby, caught fragments of it.
She watched her sister and Hornet huddled together, whispering in low tones, and saw Hornet’s expression shift from resolute urgency to hopeful anticipation.
This "whispering" right in front of her—audible yet indistinct—and the instant, unspoken understanding between the two, as if they had reached some secret agreement, stirred a subtle yet complex emotion in Phantom’s heart.
She felt a slight relief that they might have found another approach, yet also a faint sense of unease at being subtly excluded from this impromptu "solution circle."
————71————
Dirtmouth, Sly's Shop.
The Lost Vessel stood before one of the shelves. Beside him was a plump, round white grub.
The Lost Vessel had once asked for its name, but only received the moniker "False Knight."
With Sly's permission, the False Knight now stayed to help at the shop. Its wages were low, but its work efficiency was even lower.
At the moment, the False Knight was using its stubby forelimbs to clumsily yet earnestly sort items from some boxes onto the shelves according to their designated spots.
"...Whetstones go here... Traction Powder goes here..." the False Knight muttered to itself as it placed the merchandise on the shelf.
The Lost Vessel watched silently, nodding occasionally as if praising the False Knight's efforts. Sometimes, it would point out a misplaced item and urge it to be put in the correct spot.
Just then, a small white figure soundlessly approached from behind the False Knight.
It was the Knight. It looked at the False Knight, diligently sorting, then at the boxes, seeming to find it amusing.
It extended its own small nail and, with the blunt end, gently poked the False Knight's plump, unsuspecting backside.
"Yeeeek—!!!"
The False Knight jumped as if stung, the canteen in its hand clattering to the ground.
It turned around in a panic and quickly hid behind the Lost Vessel, only peeking out with half of its round head, trembling as it stole a glance.
The Lost Vessel slightly lowered its head and spoke through the text generator hanging on its chest to reassure it: "Do not fear. It is kin. It will not harm you." It gently patted the False Knight's bouncy head.
Then, the Lost Vessel turned to the Knight and inquired: (Do you need to purchase something?)
The Knight shook its head. Its white mask showed no expression, but a clear mental response came through: (I am not here to buy. I am here to deliver a letter for Master Mato. Do you know where Shopkeeper Sly is?)
(The Shopkeeper is not here currently.) The Lost Vessel then extended its hand, palm upward. (You may give the letter to me. I will relay it to him later when I see him.)
The Knight quickly adopted this suggestion. It immediately pulled out what looked like a very formal letter from beneath its small cloak and placed it in the Lost Vessel's hand.
After completing the task, the Knight did not leave the shop immediately. On a sudden whim, it decided to see what strange and curious items Sly's shop was currently selling.
After all, this was a shopkeeper who would even sell Rancid Eggs as merchandise.
The Knight moved deeper into the shop, leisurely wandering among the rows of shelves.
The shelf nearest the entrance held food: bread shaped like beetles and Geo, jars of jam in various colors, and dried bug legs.
The Knight glanced at them and silently moved on—it didn't even have a mouth.
Further in was the daily necessities section: rough but sturdy hemp rope, clay pots of various sizes, a few bright Lumafly lanterns, and stacks of faded fabrics.
Practical, but of no use to the Knight.
Further inside, a shelf in the corner held some more novel items: a few handcrafted, vividly colored clay dolls, a snow globe with a tiny wooden house inside, and a wind-up metal hopper toy.
The Knight picked up the wind-up toy, gave it a few cranks, and watched it hop cheerfully on the floor. Soon, it lost interest. After all, it only appeared young but was, in fact, an ancient being through and through.
Just as it browsed deeper into the shop, near the area stocked with various bottles and jars of seasonings, a gentle and familiar voice sounded beside it:
"Oh? Isn't this the little hero who bravely defeated that mutated plant in the Resting Grounds? Hello there. I truly didn't expect to meet you again here."
The Knight turned its head and saw the blue bug with a wide-brimmed white hat, looking every bit the explorer—Quirrel.
He was holding a small jar of dark brown sauce, seemingly made from fermented mushrooms, and carefully examining the label.
The Knight made no sound, merely tilting its head up slightly in acknowledgment.
Quirrel didn't seem bothered by its silence. Instead, he asked with interest, "Are you here to buy something too? Although, it seems you haven't found anything that particularly catches your eye yet?"
He noticed the Knight's empty hands and its calm, somewhat blank gaze.
"If you need a recommendation, I might know a little about some of the... uh, 'specialty' items here. Perhaps I could be of some help."
Hearing this, the Knight tilted its small head slightly, as if in thought.
A recommendation? It didn’t seem to need anything specific to buy, but...
Its gaze lingered on Quirrel’s focused profile, as if remembering something from the past, and then a clear thought emerged.
It did not respond to Quirrel’s offer of recommendations. Instead, it turned and walked straight out of Sly’s shop, leaving Quirrel blinking in slight bewilderment.
A few minutes later, the Knight returned.
This time, it was carrying items in its arms—a bright yellow, fully inflated swim ring printed with simple wave patterns, and a slightly crude but complete set of basic diving gear.
The diving set included: a breathing hood with a glass visor, two tubes connected to strange air bladders, and even a pair of small flippers.
These items came from the neighboring shop jointly run by Cornifer and Iselda, which now sold not only maps but also adventure equipment.
The Knight walked up to Quirrel, gave a little hop, and slipped the swim ring over him, then stuffed the entire set of diving gear into his arms.
"...Hmm?" Quirrel was momentarily stunned. He looked at the Knight’s expressionless—yet seemingly earnest—face, then down at the thoughtfully prepared aquatic equipment in his arms.
His confusion was evident. In Hallownest, a kingdom where 90% of the terrain was dirt and rock, carrying aquatic gear seemed rather odd.
Yet, Quirrel’s face soon softened into his signature warm and tolerant smile.
He adjusted the angle of his hat, carefully held onto the diving gear, and then nodded very seriously to the Knight.
"Though I don’t fully understand the reason behind this... thank you very much for your gift, little hero," he said sincerely, without a hint of dismissal. "I have truly received this kindness. Perhaps... on some future journey, they might unexpectedly come in handy."
Seeing Quirrel accept the gifts, the Knight seemed to have completed a certain "task" or "idea." It nodded and turned to walk out of the shop, intending to leave Quirrel with a mysterious and cool impression...
At least, that was the plan.
But just as it was about to step out of the shop, Lace appeared from seemingly nowhere, grabbing it firmly by the back of its cloak. "Wait, don't go yet."
“!!” The Knight only felt itself go weightless, its feet instantly leaving the ground.
It instinctively kicked its little legs a couple of times before realizing it was somehow already suspended in mid-air, like a kitten held by the scruff of its neck.
Turning its head with some confusion, it saw Lace’s face—wearing a "finally found you" expression—right up close. A flicker of shock from the sudden ambush flashed in its eyes, quickly turning into a slightly resentful glare. It also crossed its small arms over its chest in a huff, silently expressing displeasure.
"Put him down first," a calmer, steadier voice came from the right. Hornet had also arrived nearby, unnoticed. She glanced at the Knight radiating unhappiness and said to Lace, "He doesn’t like being held like that."
"Small in stature, but quite the temper," Lace muttered, letting go.
Plop.
The Knight landed lightly back on the ground. After steadying itself, its first action was to straighten its cloak, which had been pulled askew.
"We’ve been looking for you for ages," Lace’s tone carried a hint of complaint. "And here you are, leisurely shopping and buying things?"
Hornet didn’t immediately explain why they urgently needed to find the Knight. Instead, she first scanned the surroundings—bugs occasionally passing by the entrance to Sly’s shop, faint sounds coming from Cornifer’s store next door.
Lowering her voice, she said to the Knight, "It’s not convenient here. We need to talk somewhere else."
The Knight looked at her, then at Lace. It seemed to sense something from Hornet’s unusually serious expression and nodded in agreement.
A quiet back alley in Dirtmouth.
Light was blocked by towering rock walls and buildings, making the alley dim and damp.
After confirming no other bugs were around, Hornet got straight to the point.
"Knight," she looked directly at it. "After you defeated the Radiance and fulfilled your mission, you’ve been staying in the Void within Hallownest all this time?"
The Knight nodded decisively: (Yes. After all, my mission was complete. There was no need for me to remain in the outside world.)
Hornet immediately asked the most crucial question: "Then, last time, when you traveled from the depths of Hallownest’s Void to the edge of the Void near Pharloom, roughly how long did it take?"
The Knight tilted its head, trying to recall: (It wasn’t too long… I just sensed an unusual light appearing within the Void and went to see.) It paused, and its mental voice seemed to carry an instinctive repulsion: (Or rather… wanted to destroy it?)
The power of the Everbloom was completely opposite to that of the Void, one of the few existences capable of dispelling Void energy. Therefore, as a being part of the Void, especially after being freed from the mask's restraints, the Knight had a strong urge to destroy it.
The Knight continued: (After first sensing the presence of that light, it suddenly vanished after some time. Then, much later, I felt it appear again, but its power was greatly diminished. When the light completely faded, I saw you and that white mushroom at the end.)
The Knight’s description was vague, but Hornet immediately grasped the connection and quickly pieced together the timeline in her mind.
"So, from the moment I descended into the Abyss and made contact with the Everbloom, you sensed its existence. And when I was trapped in the silk cocoon, battling Lace, the power of the Everbloom was isolated—you couldn’t sense it then."
"It wasn’t until I finally defeated Lace, and the Everbloom’s light reappeared as I brought her out of the Abyss, that you and the other Void beings arrived at the scene."
She quickly calculated the total time from her descent, to defeating Lace, to escaping the Abyss with her—it was less than two hours!
This discovery lifted her spirits. If movement through the Void could cover such physically vast distances so quickly, then traveling to Pharloom via the Void might not be entirely impossible in terms of time.
Hornet pressed immediately: "Then, since you managed to travel from Hallownest’s Void to the edge of the Void near Pharloom, you must know the general direction or path from Hallownest to Pharloom, right? Within the Void, how does one move toward that direction?"
The Knight, however, shook its head.
(It’s pitch black in the Void. How do you expect me to find a direction? Besides, the Void… it once carried your soul to the past. Time within it is disordered, and space isn’t continuous.)
(Unless there’s a clear ‘guidance,’ like the light from that flower, recklessly entering the Void could mean circling forever, never finding a way back.)
The Knight’s meaning was clear: the Void wasn’t a map with coordinates. It was more like a chaotic sea following its own bizarre rules.
Without a guiding beacon, any "voyage" was extremely dangerous and likely futile.
Hornet’s brow furrowed slightly as she listened, the glimmer of hope that had just ignited in her eyes visibly dimming.
It seemed this seemingly convenient "shortcut" was actually fraught with unknowns and dangers.
Lace, who had been quietly observing from the side, couldn’t hear the specifics of the mental exchange, but she could guess the outcome from the change in Hornet’s expression and the Knight’s head shake.
She ventured to ask, "So... this idea is a no-go?"
Hornet sighed and explained, "He says movement through the Void requires a clear 'landmark' or 'guidance.' Otherwise, you’d be completely lost. We can’t just conjure up a landmark pointing to Pharloom out of thin air."
Lace blinked, pondering the details in Hornet’s words. With a puzzled tone, she asked, "A landmark? But didn’t he rush to save you in time last time? What landmark was there then?"
"It was the Everbloom," Hornet replied. "When that flower bloomed in the Void, its light was like a blazing sun in the darkness to Void beings—an unignorable, intense beacon."
"Oh... so, if we could have 'light' shine over there, it would work?" Lace followed this line of thought, half-jokingly and whimsically saying, "Then... if someone could throw an Everbloom into the Void over in Pharloom, wouldn’t that create a 'landmark'?"
After saying it, she herself felt the idea was rather naive—the Everbloom was incredibly rare. Not to mention where to find one, even if they had it, who could precisely "throw" it into the Void near Pharloom and have it shine continuously as a beacon?
However, sometimes unintended remarks spark insight.
The moment Hornet heard Lace’s words, it was as if she had been struck by a bolt of inspiration. Everything suddenly clicked into place. She immediately turned and gave Lace’s shoulder a firm pat, her tone carrying rare excitement and praise:
"Lace, your idea is excellent!"
"Huh?" Lace was jolted by the pat, looking up at the suddenly invigorated Hornet with utter confusion. "What idea? What did I just say?"
Hornet didn’t explain immediately, but her gaze had sharpened once more. A bold and risky new plan was rapidly taking shape in her mind.
————Little Easter Egg————
The tram departing from the Resting Grounds station moved smoothly through the dimly lit tunnel toward the Crossroads.
Inside the carriage, the lighting was soft, with only a few scattered passengers. Hornet sat by the window, gazing thoughtfully at the rock walls flashing past outside.
Lace sat beside her, idly surveying their surroundings.
Her attention was soon caught by an illustration on a crumpled newspaper tucked into the side of a seat.
She pulled out the paper and casually flipped through its exaggerated headlines and accompanying pictures.
Suddenly, her eyes locked onto a hand-drawn style illustration on the third page.
The style was simple and lively, the lines relaxed, but that wasn't the main point. What mattered was that the three protagonists in the image were her, Little Spider, and the Little One.
The drawing depicted the three of them playing "Dart Throw" together at the amusement park. The illustration itself had a warm, fun atmosphere, more like a record of a friendly outing. However, what landed it in the "Gossip Section" was the sensational bold headline next to it:
"Her Highness the Princess and Her Partner Allegedly Have a Child..."
Below the headline was a paragraph of speculative text, hinting at the "special family dynamics" possibly hidden behind this "stable threesome," even vaguely suggesting absurd conjectures like "whether a love child is secretly being raised."
Lace first blushed a little at the sight of her own foolishly dependent expression toward Hornet in the drawing. But then, reading the text and that outrageous "have a child" implication, a mix of absurdity and subtle, annoyed embarrassment welled up inside her.
"Can news really be made up like this?" Lace couldn't help but think inwardly.
"Pfft..." She couldn't stifle a laugh, then forcefully elbowed Hornet beside her. She shoved the newspaper over, jabbing her finger emphatically at the illustration and headline, her voice trembling with suppressed laughter.
"Hey, Little Spider! Look at this! We made the news! And it's the 'gossip front page'!" She tried to keep her voice down, but the excitement was unmistakable.
"Look at this drawing... it's actually quite accurate. But what on earth are they writing here..." She pointed at the "have a child" insinuation, then at the Little One playing darts in the middle of the picture, her expression a masterpiece of mixed emotions. "They can't possibly think... that Little One is ours?! Good heavens, what are these reporters thinking?!"
She laughed until her shoulders shook, her face a picture of "this is absurd but hilarious" amusement, her white eyes crinkling into crescents.
She treated it entirely as a ridiculous joke, waiting to see how Hornet would react to such nonsense—would she scoff disdainfully or shake her head in resignation?
Disturbed from her thoughts by Lace's outburst, Hornet glanced at the newspaper.
Her gaze lingered for a moment on the hand-drawn illustration depicting the amusement park scene, then swept over the exaggerated, far-fetched text beside it.
Her expression remained neutral, showing neither the annoyance Lace anticipated nor finding it particularly amusing—as if she were long accustomed to the absurdities of journalism.
Then she spoke slowly. Her voice wasn't loud, yet it cut clearly through the carriage noise, landing precisely in Lace's ears:
"Well, since the newspaper has already written it this way..."
Her tone was unreadable—neither joking nor entirely serious, as if simply stating a fact.
"...do you want to make this news 'come true' right now?"
The words "come true" were pronounced with particular clarity and a peculiar lightness, like a feather that nonetheless sent massive ripples across the tranquil lake of Lace's heart.
Boom—
Lace's mind went completely blank.
The one who had been chattering away just moments ago was now utterly dumbfounded by this sudden inquiry.
She whipped her head around, eyes wide with disbelief, staring at Hornet.
Hornet, however, seemed to be enjoying the spectacle, watching her with keen interest.
"I... you... you, what are you saying?!" Lace's voice rose in pitch, warped by extreme shock and fluster, stammering and nearly incoherent.
A blush spread across her face at an alarming speed—from her cheeks and the tips of her ears, down her neck—and she even felt the silk-woven threads of her body warming slightly.
She felt like a soft candy being held over a flame, about to melt.
"Wha—what come true?! How?! Here?! Now?!" Her thoughts were in complete disarray, utterly unable to process this immensely impactful and information-dense question.
Lace froze on the spot, her mind buzzing, completely losing any capacity for thought or reaction, simply staring blankly ahead.
Beside her, Hornet's lips curled into a faint, triumphant smile. "Her reaction is quite entertaining."