Leaving the safety of the park, the pastel sanctuary faded behind them, replaced once more by the eerie stillness of the abandoned city. The barrier wasn’t close—miles, maybe more—and on foot, with a toddler in tow, it was going to take forever.
Lumina glanced back over her shoulder toward the distant tree, clutching Miss Jellybeans a little tighter. “Will Marzipan be mad we left again?”
Arcade didn’t look up from the little flickering screen on his wrist. “It’s fine. Dragon mum will probably see us later if this doesn’t work out. Or she’ll just turn up randomly.” He frowned toward the skyline. “Seriously, what is with that dragon? Why is it following us all the time, and why is it acting protective?”
Mezzo, walking with his hands in his pockets and entirely too much bounce in his step for the apocalypse, tilted his head. “Maybe it’s someone we know that changed.”
Ray snorted. “The only dragon I know well is Cosmo, and last I checked he was blue with white hair, not white. So I’ve got no idea.”
Arcade gave a sharp little shrug. “Whatever she is, she’s helpful. But not what we need right now. What we need is to get out of Clawdiff before we get eaten.”
They passed the remnants of a picnic: plastic plates, melted sweets, and half-deflated balloons. In the middle of it all sat a dusty but intact baby carrier wrap.
Celeste lifted Bonbon, who clung like a koala, and bundled her gently against her chest. “Oh—there we go, love. Snug as starlight.” She shifted the weight, sighing softly. “Someone must’ve left in a hurry…”
“Or got eaten,” Mezzo muttered.
“Charming,” Ray deadpanned, rolling her eyes.
Then Celeste spotted something else on the ground near the blanket—a camcorder, scuffed but intact, half-buried in pink dust.
Arcade saw it too and immediately looked unhappy. “I’m going to regret this.”
“You say that a lot,” said Ray.
“Because I’m right a lot.”
He crouched, picked up the camcorder, wiped syrup off the lens, and clicked play.
The screen crackled to life.
It was a child’s birthday party.
The same picnic, before everything went wrong. Balloons bobbed in the sun. Children ran laughing through the grass in paper crowns and cheap fairy wings. One little boy was trying to hit a piñata with a foam sword while a mum behind the camera laughed and told him he was “miles off, sweetheart.”
Celeste felt her chest tighten.
Then the footage jolted.
Screaming.
The camera swung wildly as the zombies came rushing in from the trees and over the grass.
But something was wrong.
Or rather—
something was different.
The monsters did not attack the children the way they attacked everyone else.
The adults were grabbed. Dragged. Some bitten. Some hauled away struggling.
The children were taken too—but carefully.
The camcorder captured one horrifying, impossible moment: a candy creature leaned down and spat out a thick, glossy mass that swelled and folded around a screaming little girl like moulding clay. It shaped itself into a pod—pink, translucent, breathing—and sealed her inside without harming her.
Then another.
And another.
The monsters worked quickly, almost methodically, cocooning each child in a candy pod before carrying them away.
The clip ended in static.
No one spoke for a second.
Then Arcade lowered the camcorder slowly. “Alright,” he said, face pale behind his glasses. “It seems they’re not eating children. That’s odd.”
Ray stared at the frozen last frame. “Yeah,” she said quietly. “That is odd. That shows selection.”
Mezzo leaned over Arcade’s shoulder, squinting. “Where did they take them?”
Celeste looked up first.
“You think maybe…” Her voice came out small. She pointed toward the sky. “The gumball?”
They all followed her gaze.
High above the city, suspended from the dome by thick rope-like strands of candy and webbed sugar, hung the city-sized gumball. Its surface shimmered faintly in the pink light, impossible and enormous.
And coiled around it—
Velcarius.
Ray swallowed. “Yeah. More than likely.”
Lumina’s little voice came out thin and frightened. “I don’t want to be took.”
Celeste immediately bent toward her. “You won’t be,” she said, though her own voice shook. “I won’t let that happen.”
A low, wet, gurgling growl rolled out from the alley ahead.
Bonbon whimpered, burying her face into Celeste’s chest.
Shadows writhed in the gap between two buildings. The smell hit next—sour sugar, rotting fruit, and something chemical beneath it. Candy zombies.
“Of course,” Ray groaned, summoning Heartbreaker. “It’s never just a stroll.”
Arcade clicked his teeth, already digging through his pack for his omni-tool. “Well then. Field test time.”
He summoned out a squat, dome-headed toy robot the size of a football, neon ears flickering.
“Chip, activate!”
The robot blinked to life. “Hello, Master. Would you like a fun fact about peaches?”
Arcade pinched his nose. “No. Suppression mode. Stun pulses. Twenty-degree sweep.”
Chip spun in a circle. “Threat level: delightful! Initiating dance sequence!”
Arcade’s eye twitched. “No—no dancing! Engage hostile mode.”
Chip beeped cheerfully. “Does ‘engage hostile mode’ mean I should insult them? Because I can. Your hair lacks symmetry.”
Ray barked out a laugh, surprising even herself. “Okay. I kinda like him.”
“I don’t need critique, I need zaps!” Arcade snapped, twisting dials furiously.
Celeste’s katanas shimmered into her hands. “Um—Arcade, Static, could you please get your… er… son under control?”
“He’s not my—!” Arcade snapped. “Chip! Fire at will!”
Chip beeped, swiveling toward a gumdrop zombie. “Hello, Will. Firing.”
A burst of crackling electricity blasted from its back, staggering the creature. Arcade grinned, triumphant. “Yes! Exactly! Do that again, but, ah—on everyone else! Not us!”
“Define ‘us,’” Chip said. “Does the flaming one and the glitter one count?”
Ray sliced through a marshmallow mutant, smirking. “Congrats, genius. You built a toddler.”
“I will uninstall your sarcasm driver later!” Arcade barked.
Zombies swarmed closer—some twitching from Chip’s erratic zaps, others cut down by Celeste’s quick slashes, Ray’s brutal strikes, or Mezzo’s wild football tosses.
Mezzo whooped, hurling another. “GOOOOAL!”
Ray hammered down a molasses-covered runner and snorted. “Alright, I’m officially requesting more robots.”
Chip turned, chirping smugly. “Request denied. You have been flagged as ‘grumpy.’”
Ray actually laughed—loud and genuine. “Alright, fine. I like him.”
Celeste parried a jawbreaker ghoul, her tail bristling. “Um… we might be a little bit doomed. But, ah—at least we’re… entertaining?”
Chip beeped proudly. “I exist to amuse. And vaporize.”
They continued through the park’s edge and into the broken streets beyond. Arcade was deep in conversation with Ray, who walked beside him, occasionally spinning her hammer idly. They debated possible routes, side streets, and shortcut theories that may or may not exist. Ray half-listened, distracted by a bugbird that didn’t flap its wings but floated like a paper lantern overhead.
A loud HOOOONK shattered the quiet.
Everyone turned sharply.
Mezzo sat in the driver’s seat of a red sports car with way too many decals. The door was open, his foot kicked up on the dash, and he wore a pair of aviator sunglasses he’d just found in the glove compartment.
“Vroom vroom, losers! Who’s ready to upgrade this walking sim?!”
Lumina and Skye were already clambering into the backseat, unbothered by logic or safety.
Arcade pinched the bridge of his snout. “I despise that this is—technically—a good idea.”
Ray slid smoothly into the passenger seat, spinning her hammer before resting it on her shoulder. “You’re just salty you didn’t call shotgun.”
Celeste helped Bonbon settle, then climbed in after the children, ears flicking with nervous energy. “Oh—um—I didn’t know you could drive, Mezzo.”
Mezzo shot her a toothy grin. “Oh, I can’t.”
Celeste’s smile froze. “S-sorry, what?”
Before she could press, Mezzo slammed the pedal, and the car lurched forward in a glitter-fuelled roar. The engine squealed and then—impossibly—the vehicle hovered inches above the broken street.
“SEATBELTS!” Celeste shrieked, fumbling desperately to strap in the children with one paw while holding Bonbon tight with the other.
“THIS IS NOT HOW PHYSICS WORKS!” Arcade wailed, quills puffed like a static storm. “We’ve got a sixty-two point three percent chance of instant death—and rising!”
Ray whooped, leaning back casually. “Now this I can get behind.” She popped a lollipop into her mouth. “Could use more explosions, though.”
“ZOOM!” Lumina cried, throwing her paws in the air as the car launched over a cracked curb. “Pew pew! We’re in space!”
Skye added flatly, “Statistically, none of this should be functioning. It’s… concerning. But also fun.”
“THAT’S THE SPIRIT, LITTLE MAN!” Mezzo whooped, swerving around a toppled lamppost.
The car rocketed forward, weaving past candy-coated obstacles and drifting through shattered glass storefronts like it was on a sugar-fuelled joyride through a fever dream. And so, whether they were ready or not, the journey to the barrier had officially begun.
Celeste clutched Bonbon, tail twitching as the panda squealed with delight. “Oh stars—we’re going to die! Mezzo, please slow down!”
“Slow down?!” Mezzo laughed, slamming the wheel into another wild drift. “This is me taking it easy!”
The car rocketed down the broken streets of Clawdiff, a blur of red paint, glittering dream-energy, and wild, unfiltered chaos. Celeste clung to the door handle with one hand and cradled Bonbon with the other, her eyes wide with panic. Every few seconds, the vehicle swerved violently to avoid an abandoned car or lurching zombie, the candy-coloured scenery whipping by in a kaleidoscope of speed.
“MEZZO!” Celeste shouted over the roar of the engine, her voice laced with pure, visceral terror. “THIS ISN’T A VIDEO GAME!”
“NOPE!” Mezzo grinned madly, twisting the wheel with one paw while still managing to fist-pump the air. “BUT IT’S THE BEST DLC I’VE EVER HAD!”
Despite his reckless style, Mezzo handled the car with surprising instinct. He drifted around shattered bus stops, clipped wing mirrors of parked vans, and even launched the car over a makeshift ramp created by a toppled billboard—all while laughing like he was the king of the world.
Hybrids like him didn’t get chances like this. His whole life, sports cars were something he saw through reinforced glass, not something his paws ever touched. But now? Now he was tearing down the dream-infused streets in one, and nothing had ever felt more real.
Ray smirked, eyes glinting. “I’m not impressed ’til we do a barrel roll.”
In the backseat, Celeste gritted her teeth and squeezed Bonbon close. The panda was having the time of her life, giggling at every bounce like it was a theme park ride. Lumina and Skye whooped as they bounced against their seatbelts.
“WE’RE ALL GONNA DIE!” Arcade yelled, trying to calculate a safe trajectory in his head and failing miserably. His quills stood on end, fur puffed out in every direction. “We’ve got a 62.3% chance of dying on impact—adjusting for Mezzo’s technique, make that 74.8%!”
Ray, surprisingly composed, had one leg propped on the dashboard and was calmly sucking her lollipop. “Eh,” she muttered, “I’ve seen worse.”
Up ahead, the road twisted sharply—half-collapsed and strewn with glittering debris from a shattered dreamstructure. Mezzo narrowed his eyes behind his sunglasses.
“Hold onto your socks, folks.”
Celeste’s fur stood on end. “Y-you don’t even have a licence!”
“EXACTLY!” Mezzo yelled, yanking the wheel and sending them hurtling around the bend with all the grace of a crashing comet.
And yet—somehow—they didn’t crash. Not yet.
They had no idea how much further it was to the barrier, but one thing was certain:
getting there would be anything but boring.
