Outnumbered and already exhausted, Celeste gritted her teeth and kept swinging. Every motion was slower, heavier, and her arms ached with the weight of inexperience. The horde was relentless. For every zombie she pushed back, another two closed in. Her foot slipped on sticky syrup pooling from the phoenix’s molten feathers above. She barely caught herself.
Just as one of the fudge-dog zombies lunged at her, the goat stepped in.
He grabbed its scruff with surprising strength—but instead of wrestling it, his arm flared with dark green light, and in his hand formed a crooked shepherd’s staff with a clock embedded in its center. The hands of the clock spun wildly, ticking with a deep hum of restrained power.
Everstill
With one clean swing, the staff connected with the zombie—and in an instant, it slowed. Its furious growl warped into molasses-thick groaning as it crawled through the air in near stillness, its limbs moving like they were stuck in jelly.
One of the fudge dogs lunged, jaws dripping with molten chocolate, eyes glowing like embers. Celeste stumbled back, still shaking from her messy spiral, her blades half-raised but unsteady.
“Stay down,” Hughes barked, stepping in front of her.
He raised his crook, grip steady, movements economical as ever. With a sharp exhale, he swung it down in a decisive strike.
Attack - Echo Strike.
The crook slammed into the cobblestones with a bone-rattling CRACK. For a heartbeat, the air warped—then a faint afterimage of the weapon shimmered behind the first blow, lagging just a fraction out of sync.
The fudge dog froze mid-charge, its movements slowed as if caught in a syrup-thick current. Then the echo slammed down—harder, sharper, like the first strike’s shadow had solidified into pure force.
The beast’s chest collapsed inward under the weight of it, molten sugar spewing as it crumpled into the dirt.
Celeste blinked, awe in her wide blue eyes. “What… was that?”
Hughes straightened, tapping his crook once against the ground as though nothing unusual had happened. His face betrayed nothing—no surprise, no pride, just his usual carved-from-stone expression.
“An old trick,” he said gruffly, eyes already scanning for the next threat. “Don’t read into it. Just keep your guard up.”
But as he turned away, his knuckles tightened imperceptibly on the crook, and a flicker of thought passed behind his eyes. He had never done that before.
+300 EXP
Celeste blinked. The fudge-dog was vulnerable.
Clumsily but decisively, she struck. Her blades cleaved through the softened creature like slicing a birthday cake. The sickly sweet corpse collapsed in sticky pieces.
The fudge dogs barreled forward, massive jaws snapping, molten chocolate dripping from their fangs. Their paws struck the ground with a sickening squelch, scattering sticky globs across the ruined street. Hughes stepped ahead, crook in hand, his eyes sharp as ever.
“Stay close, lass,” he warned, bracing himself as one of the beasts lunged. “These aren’t sewer pests. They’ll tear you apart if you slip.”
Celeste swallowed hard, her twin katanas trembling in her grip. This was only her second time in real combat. Her body screamed at her to run, but somewhere deep inside—something else stirred.
The first fudge dog leapt.
She slashed once—clumsy, wide, but glowing faintly with mana. A second cut followed, tighter, smoother, almost like her body remembered something her mind did not.
Then she felt it—that instinct.
She pivoted, katanas crossing, and spun.
Attack - Nova Spiral.
Light erupted in a messy surge as her blades whirled around her. The spiral burst outward, glowing arcs knocking the fudge dogs back with a blast of syrup and steam. The glow was unsteady, uneven, and she stumbled at the end, crashing to one knee with a startled gasp.
+300 EXP
+ Liquorice Tar (Common Drop)
The dogs reeled, stunned but not defeated. Hughes’ crook slammed down, finishing one that tried to regain its footing. He glanced at her, eyes narrowing—not in anger, but in measured curiosity.
“Clumsy,” he muttered, hauling her back to her feet. “But that… wasn’t half bad. Almost like you’d done it before.”
Celeste’s breath came quick, her heart hammering. “I… I don’t know how I did that.”
Hughes gave a dry huff, eyes scanning the battlefield. “Instinct’s a start. Training’ll make it real. Now—again.”
Celeste tightened her grip, still shaking, but this time when she raised her blades, there was a spark of certainty in her eyes.
Then her arm bumped into the goat’s.
A jolt passed between them—not electric, but ethereal. Like her lungs had been squeezed empty. The green glow that had surrounded the goat rushed into her chest, flooding her core, her vision flaring.
Her blades shimmered.
And when she swung again—
—the zombies around her slowed.
Their movements jerked, sluggish and sticky, just like the goat’s ability.
That’s when it clicked.
The dreams. The shards. Her role.
The strange way her powers never made sense—how nothing seemed to belong to her.
“Mirror.”
She wasn’t supposed to have her own powers.
She was meant to mirror others. Copy them. Amplify them.
A hybrid of everything, yet nothing on her own. A copycat.
And now, empowered by the goat’s ability, Celeste stood straighter, blades glowing faint green.
She wasn’t just swinging wildly anymore.
Now, she was fighting smart.
Using the borrowed power of time-slowing, Celeste weaved through the fight like she never had before. Zombies moved as if underwater—stiff, confused, sluggish. Her blades struck with precision. She sliced, ducked, twisted—fighting like someone who almost knew what they were doing.
But the power was fading.
Each swing grew heavier. Each breath more ragged. The green glow from Hughes was flickering.
Behind her, Arcade was still shaking.
“Arcade!” Celeste cried, voice sharp with fear. “Please—we need you!”
But Arcade wasn’t there. Not really.
He was on his knees, rocking slightly, tablet forgotten in the dust. Wide eyes staring through the chaos, chest heaving. C.H.I.P. hovered beside him, beeping anxiously, trying to nudge his paw.
His breath was uneven, his paws not quite steady, but he forced himself forward anyway, glasses slipping down his nose as he jabbed frantically at his arcbracer.
“Chip—big mode,” he snapped, voice still frayed with panic. “Now. Help them.”
C.H.I.P. spun once in the air, gave a dramatic sigh, and expanded in a rapid clatter of folding metal and snapping panels until he towered over the street in full combat form.
“At last,” he said dryly. “A task involving violence instead of your feelings.”
He slammed one heavy arm down between Mezzo and a charging hound, throwing up a crackling magnetic barrier. Another shield burst outward near Ray, taking the full impact of a lunging zombie and hurling it sideways in a shower of sparks and candy sludge.
“Covering your left, Spotted Menace,” C.H.I.P. chirped at Mezzo.
Mezzo ducked under the mech’s arm and swung Infernal Riff with a savage grin. “You beautiful sarcastic tin saint!”
“Do not make this weird,” C.H.I.P. replied.
Ray drove Heartbreaker into a slowed ghoul, then glanced back just long enough to clock Arcade—still pale, still trembling, but helping anyway.
Then Skye stepped forward, small body trembling—but steady. His ears twitched, his paws outstretched. A shimmer flared.
A towering warrior spirit erupted beside him—armored, shield in hand, radiant light sweeping outward. Each swing of the spirit’s kite shield knocked zombies back, buying Arcade precious seconds.
Skye’s voice was small, but firm: “I’ve got you. Stay down. Breathe.”
On the far side, Ray hammered the barrier again and again. Splinters of light cracked and healed instantly.
“Come on, you glowing bastard!” she snarled, voice raw. “Break! BREAK!”
Beside her, Mezzo wailed in frustration, swinging his guitar like a madman.
“This is bollocks! What kinda dome doesn’t even crack?! I’ve seen toffee softer than this!”
He kicked it. Nothing.
He punched it. Nothing.
He slammed his axe again. Still nothing.
“Celeste!” he shouted, sweat dripping down his muzzle. “Ray’s about to bust a lung and I’m gettin’ less feedback than a dead amp!”
Ray just roared and slammed harder, sparks spraying.
Celeste’s panic surged. Even with all of them fighting—this wasn’t enough. And the phoenix circled above, molten syrup dripping in mocking streaks, watching. Waiting.
From the broken ledge above, the silver-furred wolf tossed vials and cloth bombs into the horde. They burst in clouds of blinding powder and sticky light, slowing the tide for seconds.
“This won’t hold!” his voice carried, firm but urgent. “Make your move now—or we’re finished!”
The warning barely hit when a crack split the air—
A fudge-dog zombie barreled through, jaws gaping, sprinting for Mezzo.
Celeste’s eyes widened. “Mezzo! Look out!”
But Mezzo froze, crowbar half-raised, too slow.
The beast leapt—
—and Mezzo vanished.
A gust of air swept where he’d been. A blur of brown and red streaked behind the zombie.
WHAM!
The creature slammed into a gumdrop boulder, splattering into caramel sludge.
The blur stopped.
Mezzo stood, chest heaving, paws trembling. His eyes darted to his hands.
“What… the hell… was that?!” he panted.
Arcade, pale but pulled back for a moment, muttered between breaths. “He… awakened. Speed-type. Reflex burst. Environmental skip.”
Ray frowned. “English, genius.”
Celeste’s eyes lit. “He’s fast. Really, really fast!”
Mezzo stared down at his hands, then grinned like a lunatic.
“Holy crap—I’m a flipping blur!”
He shot forward, zigzagging across the battlefield in jagged streaks. Zombies toppled like bowling pins, splattering sugar and syrup as his laughter echoed.
But above, the phoenix only laughed louder, molten wings stretching wide, dripping neon fire in contempt.
Mezzo blurred between the fudge-dogs, a sugar-rush pinball of steel and sound. He darted past one, slapped another on the back of its sticky head just to mock it, then carved downward with Infernal Riff, caramel bursting in a gooey explosion.
Then—with a manic flourish—he swung his guitar up, strumming a chaotic riff.
BOOOOM.
The chord tore through the battlefield like thunder. Gum walls shattered, candy canes cracked, chocolate critters went flying. Shards of EXP sparkled through the air like falling stars.
“This is the best bloody day of my life!” Mezzo bellowed, his laughter echoing.
The fudge-dogs regrouped, circling, jaws dripping molten sugar. One lunged, another flanked, their bulk threatening to crush him.
Mezzo’s grin faltered. Panic flared in his chest—then something snapped. His body surged faster than thought.
The world blurred. His paws sparked against the stones, wings trailing fire. Time seemed to slow.
He swung Infernal Riff in a blazing arc.
Attack – Blazing Chord Slash.
The blade sang like a guitar note struck too loud for heaven to ignore. A wave of fire blasted outward, ripping into the fudge-dogs with explosive force. Their candied hides cracked, caramel boiling as they were hurled back into rubble.
The cobblestones smoked black, syrup hissing where it melted. Mezzo staggered, chest heaving, fur sparking.
He blinked at his paws. “Did… did I just do that?”
Celeste stared in awe, swords forgotten at her side. “You—you moved like lightning, pet. Like… like a storm in fur.”
Mezzo barked out a ragged laugh, leaning on Infernal Riff. “Guess I had a solo in me after all. And sweet mercy—it rocked.”
But across the field, Ray was cornered.
The towering fudge-bull bore down, its molten jawbreaker horns glistening, hooves cracking the sugar-glass road.
Ray’s hands trembled. Then clenched.
“You think you’re scary?!” she screamed, voice raw.
The bull lunged.
Ray met it head-on.
Her aura erupted—scarlet flame pouring from her core. Her eyes blazed, her fists crackled, and with a roar that split the night she slammed forward.
CRACK.
The bull split in two, fudge and candy erupting across the field.
For a heartbeat, silence.
Ray stood in the wreckage, chest heaving, aura still burning crimson.
Arcade, wide-eyed, almost reverent: “Strength-type. Pure, unrestrained force. Stars above…”
Ray flexed her bruised knuckles, cracked her neck with a dangerous grin, and growled, “That. Felt. Good.”
Hughes let out a sharp bark of laughter, jabbing his cane-pitchfork into the dirt. “Bloody hell. She’s a cannon with legs.”
Another zombie bull charged, its body a grotesque fusion of bone and caramelized sinew, eyes glowing like molten toffee. Each hoofbeat shook the ruined street, and its bellow rattled the very air.
Ray gritted her teeth, Heartbreaker clutched in both paws. She’d fought plenty of candy freaks, but this—this was a wall of raw muscle and rage bearing down on her. Her legs screamed to move, but something inside burned hotter.
She planted her feet instead.
The bull lowered its head, syrup-slick horns glinting. At the last possible heartbeat, Ray swung.
Attack - Crater Smash.
Heartbreaker crashed downward in a thunderous overhead arc, slamming into the cobblestones with the weight of a falling star. The ground erupted in a localized shockwave, purple fire exploding outward in jagged cracks.
The bull staggered, hooves skidding as the shockwave rippled beneath it. Smaller shambling zombies nearby were thrown off their feet, some collapsing in stunned heaps, syrup splattering across the ground.
Ray stood panting, her mane wild with sparks, staring at the crater she had just carved into the stone. For a moment, she didn’t believe it herself.
Celeste, frozen mid-step, breathed out, “Ray… your strength—”
Ray’s lips curled into a grin, wide and wolfish, even as her shoulders trembled from the strain. “Heh. Guess I’ve been holding back.”
The bull snorted, struggling to rise from the cracked ground, but now there was fear flickering in its candied eyes.
Ray tightened her grip on Heartbreaker. “Your turn, sugarhorn.”
