Started to reread worm a while back. Got to Canary's trial. Was struck with a consuming, indignant fire at Canary's sham of a trial. Miscarriage of justice pissed me off. I wrote a thing about that.

xXx

Paige's body ached something fierce. Being bound and gagged like an unruly animal being led to slaughter will do that to a girl… of course, with where Paige was going, they might as well have sentenced her to death. It wouldn't been more humane.

As it was, her hands were linked behind her back with hefty constraints, binding her in such a way that the young woman had constantly contort her spine to keep the pressure off of her wrists –the thin little things were buried in buckets immensely larger than themselves, filled with a dense pastel yellow foam that rubbed at Paige's skin every time she so much as thought about shifting her weight.

Thick bands of metal had been tightened, conforming to her armpits and wrapping around her ribcage and biting into the soft flesh of her waist –leaving no room for a hope of movement. Two sheets of fat, heavy tinker-tech metal curled around her skinny ankles and immense, implacable chains seemed to crisscross and connect to just about every other inch of her frame, constraining her movement to an unnatural degree.

Paige could do no more than shift her weight between her feet –and hardly that –before feeling the immovable resistance of the chains that enslaved her to her spot on the otherwise empty transport. A heavy collar of dark plastics bound her neck in place and would have better belonged to an old, pre-Scion tank than as part of a constraint. Its sickly green tinkertech light blipped so rarely that she often forgot about the purpose of the collar before it reappeared. When it did, Paige was reminded of the bomb wrapped tightly around her neck, and her heart plummeted with the renewal of a panicked fear.

All this to restrain Paige… and yet, a pair of handcuffs would have been just as effective.

In spite of what the courtroom had speculated, Paige had no enhanced muscles. She had no inhuman flexibility or otherwise hitherto hidden trick that might allow her to slip her restraints.

But the mere notion that Canary could have a hidden strength or might be a flight risk had resulted in a "Brute 0, to be updated later" slapped on Paige's record and allowed the courtroom to justify using the very same precautions that were designed to hold back Lung –the Dragon of Kyushu, the one who repelled fucking Leviathan –on little, itty bitty Canary.

"Let the current recording show that the prisoner, hereafter dubbed 'Canary,' has been successfully transported. As per the recommended protocols following a prisoner with suspected Brute ratings, reinforced restraints that are capable of withstanding up to Brute 9, were utilized as prisoner constraints. In line with the standard Master containment regulations, only autonomous or remote-controlled constructs were utilized in her transportation to the 'Birdcage,' with no human personnel or prisoners ever brought within the recommended three hundred yard minimum distance of her position. Releasing her now. Hello, Canary."

The digitalized voice –no doubt to protect the speaker's identity, Paige thought bitterly –broke the innumerable hours of silence that had been her constant companion throughout the long flight. Paige blinked in surprise as the thick constraints that held her leashed to the bulkhead suddenly hissed open, sending her crashing awkwardly to the floor.

Liquid from somewhere inside the buckets shot into the foam, and Paige pulled her hands free from the dissolving restraint, rubbing her thin wrists where the too-tight containment foam had rubbed her skin raw. Rising from the floor on wobbly-weak legs, Paige stumbled right back down to the cold floor.

Her legs were tremblingly numb, not a good sign. What if she needed to run as soon as she was tossed in?

"I followed your… trial," the voice continued hesitantly. "It shouldn't have ended the way that it did. Your situation might have been a reckless, foolishly avoidable incident, but you don't deserve to be here…"

Fingers interlocking over her head, Paige stretched from her spot on the ground. A cacophony of cadaverous pops and cracks resounded from her aching spine.

"No, you don't deserve to be here. For what it's worth, I personally lobbied the President to directly pardon your case, wrote a letter to your judge, left voicemail after voicemail to the DA, and I even spoke to your governor to say as much. It… it wasn't enough. None of it was enough. I'm sorry."

In spite of herself, the genuine sympathy in the distorted voice slammed past Paige's guarded heart, bringing tears to her eyes. The courtroom, her judge, her own damned lawyer hadn't been half so sympathetic to Paige.

"I have to do my job" The voice said, and the defense felt empty to all involved. Especially Paige. "Whatever I might feel, I- I can't let you go. Understand?"

Silence was Paige's chosen answer. She didn't trust her voice right now. Instead, she focused on trying to stand.

"Look, I'm sticking you in cell block E. There's a woman, Lustrum, that's set herself up in that cell block. She's a pretty… radical feminist and extremely misandrist. You might think she's insane, but Lustrum viciously protects her girls. If you can convince yourself to be swayed by her ideology (or at least pretend to be), then … then Lustrum will keep you as safe as you can be."

Left unsaid was that she would be as safe as she could be in the birdcage.

From her spot on the floor, Paige nodded in bleak resignation. She could feel the first apathetic tendrils of hopelessness creep inside her soul.

Suddenly, she didn't mind her inability to stand.

"I retain control over the Birdcage and I have the ability to observe its inmates, but I can only respond in the event of a natural disaster that might threaten the structural integrity of the prison. I will not… cannot intervene if another inmate damages something vital to your collective lives." Paige thought that the voice broke at that admission. "I'll be there if you want to speak to me, Paige. I promise you, I'll hear every word that you say to me, but I'll never be able to respond. I can't respond… Now, I'm going to be depositing you in the elevators in a moment. You're going to be given a finite amount of oxygen –just enough to last until you hit the bottom."

Bulky, arms of fibrous metal interwoven with hard plastic stretched into the empty carrier and dexterously grasped Paige around her waist. Plucking her up, the arm moved her from the silent transport –terrible acoustics, anyway –and gently placed inside a small, boxed room that was just large enough to hold the small woman.

"I won't ask you to forgive me, Miss Mcabee," the mechanical voice sounded mournfully from beyond the closing doors. "I'm sorry… and good luck."

The ground beneath Paige shuttered, and she began to descend.

From her place on the floor, Paige took a deep breath to calm herself down, heedless of her limited air. She needed the help.

When that didn't work, she began to count backwards from 10.

10, 9, 8…

At four, there was a creaking (almost groaning) sound of protesting metal. Startled, Paige leaned as far away as she could from the side of the cramped elevator that the sound had come from.

A twisting, warping circle carved itself into the metal side of the wall. No foam leapt out toward the young woman. Instead, Paige Mcabee gazed through the doorway to the most beautiful scenery that the she had seen in recent weeks. The vacuum was broken, and a warm breeze gently caressed her cheek –carrying with it the fresh, earthy odor of a forested wilderness to her nose.

Through the haze of distorted space, Paige saw the largest castle that she had ever thought to imagine, sitting almost incongruously atop a high mountain and surrounded by a dense forest that spread beyond the horizon. The immense structure of marble columns and spacious archways greatly dwarfed the woman, even at the distance. Inanely, she thought that this must be what a cat feels inside of a house. Everything was made for a people so much larger than herself.

While Paige wasn't the most prideful person –especially in light of recent events –she felt humbled even still.

Stuck with the choice to ride the broken elevator down to the birdcage, or risk this unknown land and its potential freedom, Paige's decision was clear. Her legs useless from the trip, she crawled through the disk of wavering light and distorted space.

Paige Mcabee was met with the warm embrace of a noontime summer sun.

xXx

Also: minor edits to last chapter due to feedback. It also contains responses to some reviews there. Nothing major, feel free to ignore the changes if you feel so inclined.