The walk into Ukai felt like stepping into a story someone else had been telling for a long time.

Their host moved ahead at an easy pace, hands folded behind his back. Two attendants followed a step behind, carrying their luggage with the smooth balance of people who had grown up on swaying branches.

The platform curved gently along the trunk, opening into a wider path that split and bent and rejoined like roots.

"Please, follow me" the host said. His voice was calm, with that practiced softness people used for visitors. "Your quarters are prepared."

Kenzo fell into step just behind him, like he had decided he was unofficially in charge of the Neoshima group. Saffi walked at Raizen's side, eyes everywhere at once. Professor Eiden came last, gaze flicking over details without really landing on any of them.

If the Underworks had ever decided to learn manners, it might have looked like this.

Platform branches, topped with stone, thick as streets held stalls and small stands. People leaned over counters carved out of bark, their goods arranged on smooth shelves that seemed to sprout from the trunk itself. Lanterns hung in clusters, their warm light bouncing off polished surfaces and catching tiny dust particles in the air.

At one stall, an old woman with clever hands sold small wooden trinkets that glowed faintly when touched. Simple bracelets, leaf-shaped pendants, thin rings made from braided roots.

A boy sat on the floor near her feet, arranging smooth stones that pulsed with dim color into crooked lines.

Further along, two kids chased each other with braided branch hoops, laughter ringing loud as they dodged adults and drones. One of the drones dipped low to avoid getting smacked, then drifted up again with an almost offended wobble.

Raizen watched all of it and felt a quiet ache he could not quite name.

The joy of the Underworks, but without the grime. Without the shadows waiting for someone to trip.

Clean lines, swept paths, polished railings. Neoshima's order, but somehow gentle. Softer.

"Look at that" Kenzo said.

He nodded toward a stall where kitchen tools hung in neat rows. Ladles, spatulas, strainers, all carved from the same kind of pale wood with intricate patterns burned into their handles. Among them, leaning against the side, was a spoon almost as long as Raizen's arm. Its bowl was wide enough to use as a small shield.

Raizen slowed without meaning to.

The stall owner, a man with deep laugh lines and a scarf wrapped twice around his neck, caught his look and smiled.

"Souvenirs for home?" he asked. "Useful, too. Good wood. No splinters, no scorch."

Raizen imagined Kori standing in the Eon Hall, clipboard in one hand, this ridiculous spoon in the other. Tapping it against her palm the way she did with her pen. Using it to point at forms. Or at his head.

A grin tugged at his mouth before he could stop it.

"How much for the big one?" he asked.

The man named a price that made Saffi lift her eyebrows, but Raizen dug into his pocket all at the same time. He accepted the spoon with both hands. It had a nice weight to it. Too big to strap to his bag in any normal way.

Kenzo snorted.

"You are buying Kori a weapon?" he asked. "You actually want her to have a larger surface to hit you with?"

"It is a gift" Raizen said. "She likes practical things."

"Practical" Kenzo repeated. "Yes. Because what Kori really needs is a way to discipline us and serve soup at the same time."

Saffi covered her mouth, shoulders shaking.

"I mean" she said, voice muffled, "Technically, he is not wrong. She will hang it on the Eon Hall wall with a sign that says: For students who arrive late."

Raizen turned the spoon in his hands, looking at the curling patterns carved into the bowl.

"Then I will arrive earlier than I usually do" he said.

"You usually arrive two hours earlier doing God knows what!!"

Saffi's eyes crinkled. For a moment, the folder hidden under her jacket and the weight of Alteea's mission seemed to loosen.

The host glanced back once to make sure they were still following. His gaze flicked to the spoon, then to Raizen's face, but he did not comment. His expression stayed politely unreadable.

They walked on.

The further they went, the more the city opened vertically. Bridges stretched above them like veins, connecting homes that clung to branches with vines and hidden anchors.

Some structures were small, barely more than single rooms fitted with round windows. Others were multi-level, with balconies layered one above another, lights glowing behind thin screens.

Tech was everywhere, but it did not fight the wood. Drones hummed past, carrying crates or small baskets. Thin glass panels grew seamlessly from walls, displaying shifting patterns or lists written in curling characters. The air smelled like sap, cooked food and something sweet.

Their host finally led them along a quieter side platform that wrapped around a think trunk and stopped at a rounded door set into the wood. The door frame was grown, not built, its edges spiraled like the inside of a seashell.

He placed his palm against a plate beside it. Soft blue light traced his fingers. The door slid aside with a gentle sigh.

"Your treehouse" he said, stepping back so they could see.

The room inside was simple and clean.

Polished wood underfoot, smooth enough that Raizen's boots barely made a sound. A low table sat in the center, surrounded by cushions. On either side of the room, in opposite corners, were two big futon mats, neatly folded blankets resting at their foot. Two double futons for four people, opposite corners.

A single wall was mostly taken up by a wide opening that led onto a small balcony. Lanterns hung outside along the railing, their light spilling in, and beyond them the city dropped away in layers of branches, platforms and lights, all the way down into a soft, glowing haze.

Raizen stepped just inside and felt the quiet settle around him. This was not Neoshima's metal hum or the Underworks' crowded noise. It was softer. Like standing on a cloud.

Behind him, Saffi stopped dead.

Her gaze moved from the futons in one corner to the pair in the other. Then to Raizen. Then back to the futons again. Color crept up from her neck into her face, fast and obvious.

She said nothing, but her hands had suddenly found a very intense interest in adjusting the strap of her jacket. Once. Twice. Three times.

Their host watched her with the same polite calm. His eyes, though, missed nothing.

"If you prefer more privacy" he said, "we can prepare a separate treehouse nearby. It will take only a short time."

Saffi flinched like he had shouted.

"No, no-" she said, a little too quickly. "This is perfect. Thank you. Very much. Really. It is more than enough."

Her voice landed too bright in the quiet room.

Raizen looked at her, then at the futons, and a slow understanding reached him. His own ears felt warmer than before.

"We are used to tight quarters back home" Kenzo said, stepping in as if nothing at all about the arrangement was strange. He moved toward the corner opposite the balcony and nudged one of the futons with his foot. "This is luxury."

The host inclined his head.

"As you wish. Your luggage will be brought in shortly."

The two attendants arrived a moment later, sliding their bags off their broad shoulders and arranging them near the wall. One of them lingered in the doorway, eyes skimming over Raizen's swords, Eiden's arm, Saffi's jacket, Kenzo's lazy slouch. Not cold. Just curious.

Their host noticed and gave the faintest tilt of his head. The attendant ducked out quickly after that.

He turned back to them.

"I hope you will have a pleasant stay" he said. "If you need anything, the panel by the door will serve as your way to contact me. Also, the Firefly Festival is in two days."

"The what?" Kenzo asked.

The host's calm smile returned, almost but not quite reaching his eyes.

"You shall see" he said. "Rest for now. You must be tired. The convention sessions start in the morning."

He bowed, then stepped out into the hall. The door whispered shut behind him, leaving the four of them alone with their bags and the quiet.

Kenzo dropped his weight onto the futon he had chosen. It sank under him with a soft rustle.

"I call this corner" he announced. "Eiden, you're going to be my teddy bear tonight, so I make sure you don't run anywhere. Anyone who snores gets moved to the balcony."

"I don't snore" Saffi said, still a little too quickly.

"That is not what Alteea told me" Kenzo replied.

Saffi sputtered, cheeks deepening in color.

Raizen set the giant spoon carefully against the wall near his bag, trying not to imagine Kori's face when she saw it. Maybe joy. Maybe murder. Probably both.

Eiden had gone very quiet.

He sat near the low table, his organic hand resting on his knee, his prosthetic fingers lightly touching the polished surface. His eyes were turned toward the balcony, but Raizen doubted he was really seeing the view.

"You alright, Professor?" Raizen asked.

Eiden blinked once, as if dragged back from a long way off.

"I'm fine" he smiled. "Just tired. It has been some time since I was last here."

There was something in the way he said "here" that made the room feel smaller.

Raizen let it go. For now.

They unpacked a little. Just enough to get by. Clothes folded near futons. Slate set to charge from slim ports that slid open from the floor. The light outside shifted slowly, lantern glows strengthening as the sky between the branches dimmed.

A gentle knock sounded at the door.

Three quick taps. Pause.

Raizen looked up. Kenzo lifted his head from where he had been pretending to nap. Saffi froze halfway through straightening a sleeve.

Eiden was already on his feet.

The door slid open.

Their host stood there again, alone this time. No attendants. No luggage.

The softness in his face had been dialed back a fraction. His posture was still relaxed, his voice still even, but his eyes were sharper, focused.

"I apologize for disturbing you" he said quietly. "This is from Echelon. I was instructed to place it in your hands only, Professor Eiden."

In his right hand he held a slim paper envelope, starkly pale against the warm wood of the doorway.

He stepped inside just enough to close the distance and held the envelope out toward Eiden.

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