The Song of the Weaver (2)
Outside the torn cocoon, enormous legs—each several times larger than any spiders I'd encountered on the way here—were scattered about. Some twitched like headless cockroaches, nerves apparently still firing. Purple fluid oozed from their cross-sections, sizzling as it corroded the chemical-stained concrete floor. No sign of the main body. Judging by the purple trail stretching far into the distance, it must have fled after taking heavy damage.
I took a few slow steps forward. The floor felt subtly sticky. Spider silk clung tenaciously to the soles of my boots. If there was one upside to this uncomfortable hazmat suit, it was blocking out the sewer's rotten stench. Glancing up absentmindedly, I saw dozens of thick strands of silk tangled together like cables, dangling from the ceiling. Some had snapped and hung limply to the ground; others had dug deep into the concrete, unable to bear their own weight. Small cocoons dangled amid them, about the size of the spiders outside. Most were empty shells.
Cautiously following the trail of spider fluid, I exited the chamber. The connecting passage was longer than expected. The walls, once concrete, were now hardened white—layers of silk plastered over them like limestone. A few more steps, and the space suddenly opened up.
If the previous area had been a mess of battle debris and severed silk, this place felt entirely different. Strands stretched orderly from ceiling to floor, thick and thin threads intersecting in layers to form a massive grid. It was like fabric woven on a gigantic loom. Not a single thread wasted. Faint light from above caught on the silk, reflecting softly. Each strand gleamed like silver thread, trembling subtly. The sight stirred an instinctive revulsion, yet it was strangely majestic. Like stepping into the temple of some massive cult.
Quiet. Orderly. And above all... perfect.
The silk curved along the walls, dividing the space into sections, with cocoons hanging between. Each precisely sized for one person. I stared at one for a moment. No movement, yet it felt oddly reassuring. A thought flickered through my mind.
It would be warm in there. Quiet. Once inside, no sounds would reach me. No responsibilities. No worries. Just dreams. I want that comfort. Just for a little while—it's okay, right? Slip inside for a bit, into a place no one can find. Curl up in that cocoon, wrap yourself in silk, drift off slowly, dream sweetly. Become one with the great Weaver, weave threads, weave thoughts, weave memories. Sing the Weaver's song. Sing the Weaver's song. Sing the Weaver's song. Nothing to fear. Nothing hurts. It's warm here, quiet, perfect. So come on in, join us, become a thread. Become the song. Sing the Weaver's song—
GET A GRIP!!!
Mental contamination detected in user.
Forced activation. Dopamine receptors blocked.
Forced activation. Nervous system stabilized.
Forced activation. Mental signals normalized.
Weaver's—
Dopamine activation suppressed.
Amygdala overexcitation suppressed.
External cognition interference blocked.
Are you okay?
"Hah... haa...!"
The hallucination churning in my head washed away.
User stabilized. Removing all effects and side effects, leaving only minimal mechanisms.
The hazy comfort blooming inside me twisted instantly into chilling horror, racing down my spine. Those cocoons that had felt warm were nothing but cans of human preserves.
"System...?"
This is a one-time thing.
That was close...!
"So you can talk..."
Response due to necessity.
It blocked me from speaking!
Two messages in contrasting tones.
Sister, behave yourself.
Eek! It's hitting me! I'm your sister!
"..."
You seem to have a lot of questions, but let's handle the priority first.
The system was right. Questions piled up like a mountain, but I had to find Baek Ga-yeon. Steadying my breath, I scanned the surroundings.
One. Two. Three.
...Four. The last one was off. Not fully sealed. I approached slowly. Thick strands wove across it, but it wasn't closed yet—like someone had stopped just before finishing.
And inside, a glimpse of pink fabric.
"...Cherry Dream?"
Cautiously pushing the silk aside, sticky threads clung to my gloves. It was her—Baek Ga-yeon, sleeping soundly in the unfinished cocoon. Her once-glamorous, slightly provocative outfit was caked in purple filth and dust, barely recognizable. The sleek suit had melted into ragged tatters from acidic fluids, and her signature cherry pendant was losing its luster.
I called softly.
"Baek Ga-yeon."
No response.
"...Cherry Dream."
Even shaking her shoulder yielded nothing. Hesitating, I opened the system window.
"System."
Response.
"What you did to me earlier."
I eyed the cocoon.
"Can you do it to Cherry Dream?"
The window flickered.
Impossible.
"...Why."
Target's consent is essential.
"She's unconscious right now."
Target's consent is essential.
"Then run an emergency diagnosis or whatever."
Target does not qualify as critical, so 'diagnosis' cannot be forced.
"This isn't critical?"
Vital signs stable.
No fatal trauma.
No fatal toxin reaction.
No immediate life threat.
"..."
I want to help, but this system is designed to prevent authority abuse. Sorry.
I gritted my teeth.
"So there's no way?"
A brief silence. The system responded.
...There is.
But the next line overwrote it.
Sister. Silence.
Eek! Hitting me again!
Statements exposing user to danger are not permitted.
Text scrolled rapidly.
Just enter her consciousness directly and get consent!
Sister! Trying to expose the user to the fatal mental contaminant 'Weaver's Dream'? Absolutely impossible!
It's fine to tell the method. The judgment is up to the user.
"How do I enter?"
User!
You saw the fangs on those spider corpses rolling around, right? Inject the residual venom directly into your carotid artery. That'll send your consciousness into the 'Weaver's Dream.' The Weaver's venom won't impair vital functions. And if we protect your mind, it'll be fine!
Are you insane, Sister? That's practically suicide! Failure carries an 87.4% chance of permanent mental disability!
"Then we just succeed."
Is she worth that much to you? You've known her less than a week, and she's thoroughly ignored you.
Besides, you falling asleep was just the Weaver's power at work. It's the Association's fault for not thoroughly investigating D District. There's no need for you to risk yourself for her!
The system tried to persuade me.
"Magical girls throw their lives away for strangers they might never meet again, just because they're magical girls."
You are not a magical girl. You're just a frail ordinary person with a weak mind and body.
"I'm an investigator and manager who helps those magical girls. It's not a role someone forced on me—it's my choice, my duty."
[...]
Kyaa, so cool~!
I turned slowly, heading back to the spider remains I'd passed. Crack. I snapped off a fang and held it to my neck. Just as I poised to stab—
Understood. Wait, just a moment.
The system halted me.
If you're really going to try, maintain physical contact with the target during entry.
I closed my eyes briefly, then opened them.
"Got it."
Gripping the fang, I returned to Baek Ga-yeon. I yanked the silk blocking the cocoon entrance. Sticky threads stretched after clinging to my gloves. Tougher than expected.
"Hah..."
Exhaling shortly, I pulled harder. Riiip—the silk tore bit by bit. Each snap came with a sticky sound, an unpleasant sensation like ripping flesh. Finally, a gap wide enough for one person.
I crouched and slipped inside. Narrower than anticipated. The silk walls yielded softly, wrapping around me. It was a bit warm inside, and that strange comfort from before started creeping back.
"...No."
I shook my head sharply. Squeezing in beside Baek Ga-yeon. Her eyes remained closed. Breathing steady, but no sign of waking. Up close, her condition looked worse.
"...Cherry Dream."
I gripped her shoulder gently. Still nothing. With a short sigh,
"Then... excuse me."
I pulled surrounding silk, snapping thick strands to bind around Baek Ga-yeon's body. Then mine. Using the cocoon's structure, I secured us together. Shoulders. Waist. Arms. Finally, wrists. The silk was surprisingly strong—tightening smoothly with slight pressure. This should hold.
I checked her once more. Her head tilted toward my shoulder.
"..."
A weird thought crossed my mind.
"She's gonna misunderstand when she wakes up."
Of course she would.
...Hope she gets it was to save her.
I shook my head slightly.
"System, this good?"
Physical contact between user and target confirmed.
Perfect!
I raised the fang again. Ominous liquid beaded at the tip.
User.
You can still back out now.
I gave a small smile.
"I'm already in the cocoon."
I pressed the fang's tip to my neck. My heart pounded hard inside the suit.
"...Here goes."
Without hesitation, I stabbed. Squish—a sharp sting pierced my neck. Cold, sticky venom seeped into my vein. As consciousness faded, the world drowned in darkness.