Ray’s fists were a blur, every punch and kick laced with burning frustration as she drove back a hulking candy brute. Her breaths came ragged, but her eyes burned, refusing to falter.
From above, a sharp guitar riff cut through the chaos—then a body dropped beside her with a heavy thunk.
Mezzo grinned, swinging a guitar-shaped battle axe he’d just pulled from his glowing hands. “Figured you could use a hand, lass. Try not to hog all the fun.”
Ray scoffed, but didn’t argue, moving in sync with him as the weapon’s jagged chords split sugar-flesh and scattered shards across the street.
Celeste darted in on Ray’s other side, twin blades flashing as she slashed through a sugar-rusher lunging for Ray’s legs. Mezzo followed with a yell, bringing Infernal Riff down in a blazing arc that cracked through another creature and sent candy fragments skittering across the pavement.
“Observation!” Chip chimed from above, whirring as his antenna glowed while Arcade ducked under the swipe of a sticky lollipop arm and stumbled sideways to avoid a snapping sugar-mouse. “Your combined form is what I’d charitably call ‘adequate.’ Ray, less broody shoulder tension. Mezzo, try aiming your swings instead of cosplaying a windmill.”
Mezzo snarled mid-swing as he hacked a sugar-cube creature off Ray’s back. “You’re this close to being punted into a fudge fountain, toaster.”
Arcade adjusted his glasses with one hand while batting away a crawling candy thing with the other. “So… our cores are summoning weapons. Like bound weapons, yeah?”
“That is correct!” Chip trilled, wings buzzing smugly, while below him Celeste shoved Ray clear of a lunging wrapper-zombie and Ray answered by caving its chest in with Heartbreaker.
Arcade’s ears twitched as he ducked another attack. “Technically, aren’t you that? A bound construct?”
“Bingo!” Chip shot him a holographic gold star sticker. “Man, you’re smart today. Have a sticker.”
Arcade growled, swiping through the projection while stumbling back from a clawed hand reaching for his face. “Whatever. Then do all our cores work the same way? Same functions?”
“Nope!” Chip said cheerfully. “They’re connected through Celeste’s core. Hers is the only stable one. The rest of you are echoes—reflections. Without her as a hub, you’d be unstable as all hell.”
Arcade froze just long enough to nearly get tackled by a sugar-rusher and had to jerk sideways as it slammed into the wall beside him. “What do you mean?”
Chip’s antenna flicked. “Additional note: Celeste’s core is… different. Unique configurations. My data banks contain no prior match.”
Arcade’s voice cracked as he backed away from another reaching set of syrupy hands. “Wait, wait—I ate that candy too. So what does that make me? Like… a mythic? A knock-off version?!”
“Error,” Chip replied happily. “I have no data to compare it to. Please consult your local deity.”
Celeste, ears drooping even as she parried another strike, mumbled, “It was probably the gumdrop…”
Arcade pointed furiously at the hologram while ducking under a wildly thrown candy arm. “You’re telling me I ate a bioweapon—and now I can conjure talking hardware?!”
Celeste hunched her shoulders, voice very small as she hacked through another zombie’s wrist. “…I really thought it was a gumdrop.”
Chip continued, utterly undeterred, while Ray and Mezzo fought back-to-back and Celeste’s blue glow pulsed between them all. “The substance restructured her biology, allowing her to convert mana into a stable power core. She now functions as a central hub—rerouting ambient and partner mana through her body via thought-activated transmission. This includes weapon summoning, defensive boosts, and shared emotional feedback.”
Arcade’s jaw dropped as he sidestepped a lunging sugar-mouse and nearly tripped over rubble. “Hold on—so I can channel my mana independently now, but it still runs through her? That’s what you’re saying?”
“Basically, yes,” Chip said, bobbing in the air. Then he adopted the tone of someone explaining basic science to an unusually dramatic toddler. “Your mana is like Fizzypop in a bottle. Shake it too much, and eventually the whole thing explodes in your face.”
Mezzo snorted as he shoulder-checked a zombie away from Ray. “That’s disturbingly on brand.”
Chip went on, “Celeste’s core lets you connect your mana to her, filter it through something that is not wildly unstable, and send it back to you in a form your body can actually use without popping like a festive organ balloon.”
Arcade stared while narrowly avoiding getting clawed across the nose. “That is the worst explanation I have ever understood perfectly.”
Chip’s antenna twitched smugly. “Thank you. Also, if you are too far away from her, she can’t help stabilize your mana anymore, so your weapon system switches off as a safety precaution.”
Skye glanced up from further back. “So that’s what out of range means.”
“Correct,” said Chip brightly. “Distance equals disconnection. Disconnection equals no lovely borrowed stability. No stability equals screaming, implosion, or both. Safety feature engaged.”
Celeste blinked, remembering the glowing word in the book again even as she caught her breath beside Ray. “Oh… is that what Mirror means?”
Chip turned toward her. “No, stupid. That’s something else.”
Everyone went quiet for half a second.
Chip continued, entirely unapologetic. “Also, be careful removing the suppression rune. Yours is holding back more than just you.”
Celeste tilted her head, ears twitching. “What do you mean?”
Chip’s eyes flashed. “I mean your biology is currently a miracle held together with spite, trauma, and magical interference. Remove the rune carelessly and you may discover exciting new problems.”
Celeste looked faintly alarmed. “Exciting?”
“Medically catastrophic,” Chip clarified.
Arcade closed his eyes for one long second while, just ahead of him, Celeste and Mezzo helped Ray smash the last of the immediate swarm back into the street.
Then, with the tired precision of someone reaching his absolute conversational limit, he flicked two fingers through the hologram controls and dismissed Chip in a burst of light.
The little robot vanished mid-hover with a startled electronic squawk.
Arcade exhaled through his nose. “There. Peace and quiet.”
Mezzo blinked. “Did you just de-spawn the only thing explaining any of this?”
“Yes,” said Arcade flatly. “And I’d do it again.”
Celeste still looked troubled, paws curled against the book. “I didn’t like the bit about medically catastrophic.”
Mezzo patted her shoulder. “No, but on the bright side, at least now we know you’re not just a walking Wi-Fi tower. You’re a walking Wi-Fi tower with hidden bonus trauma.”
Arcade pinched the bridge of his nose. “Please stop helping.”
Bonbon squealed, clapping her little paws. “Mae hi mor ddisglair nawr!”
(She’s so shiny now!)
Arcade dragged his paws down his face. “This is too weird. It doesn’t make sense. None of this makes sense. But—fine. We’ll figure it out later.”
Chip spun a loop in the air, clearly pleased. “Excellent plan! Confusion is best processed under mortal peril!”
From the far side of the plush-covered concourse, Skye raised his modified card launcher. A soft hum vibrated through the air as a new card slipped into place.
With a flick, a cute water imp popped into existence—its big eyes blinked once before launching a bubbling orb of water directly at the sugar rusher mid-lunge.
Splash—ZAP!
The rusher shrieked as steam hissed off its form, melting into nothing but dripping caramel goo. Another EXP burst popped into the air above it.
+30 EXP
+Sugar dust (Common Drop)
“Brilliant shot!” Celeste gasped, her voice bright with awe.
Skye blinked, his ears twitching, cheeks turning a faint red. “There was… an opening. I just took it,” he mumbled, eyes darting to his shoes. His hands tugged his sleeves down, like attention itself was too heavy.
Arcade adjusted his glasses, tilting his head in thought. “Calculated response under pressure. Nicely done. Didn’t think you had it in you, cousin.”
Skye shrugged faintly. “Neither did I.”
Ray, meanwhile, had just finished hammering a fudge hound into a sticky heap of chocolate and candy shards. She stood there panting, hair half-loose from its braid, but her grin was sharp. Her eyes burned with wild energy.
“Guess I’m not dead weight after all,” she huffed, flicking a clump of toffee off her arm.
Above the team, soft glows shimmered across their wrists—bars of light forming in different colors. Celeste’s blue, Mezzo’s red, Arcade’s green…
Ray’s was nearly empty.
Arcade narrowed his eyes. “Health meter. And hers is about to bottom out.”
Celeste’s breath caught. “Ray—you’re hurt. You need to stop, just for a moment.”
Ray scoffed, tossing her braid back. “Relax, blondie. I’ve been worse.”
But Lumina tugged Celeste’s sleeve, whispering urgently. “Like in games… when health is low… you heal it, right?”
Celeste bent down. “You think you can try?”
Lumina bit her lip, nervous—but Bonbon hummed softly in her arms, glowing. That glow passed into Lumina’s palms as she reached toward Ray’s wrist. A warm pink light spilled over Ray’s health bar, filling it little by little. A soft chime echoed, bright and hopeful.
Ray stared at it, caught off guard. “...Okay. That’s… new.”
Arcade scribbled furiously in his notes, muttering. “Adaptive mechanics. Our cores aren’t static—they’re evolving with stimulus.”
Ray’s aura flared violet, sharp-edged and impatient, sparking like stormlight in glass. She flexed her hand, trying again for the hammer—nothing came.
Her hoodie was gone now, left behind in the chaos. The cropped tee and plaid skirt beneath stood stark against the wreckage, black boots scuffed, her braid ragged. She looked less like a runaway corporate employee and more like someone carved out of raw survival.
She turned her back to them, fists tight. “...Thanks,” she muttered, the word dragging like it hurt.
Celeste gave a tentative smile. “You’re welcome.”
Ray’s shoulders rose and fell with a sharp breath. “Guess I needed you guys after all.”
Silence hung—awkward, heavy.
“But don’t get used to it,” she added quickly, spinning around with fire in her eyes. “My powers only show up when she’s around.” She jabbed a claw toward Celeste. “That’s a problem.”
Arcade tapped his notes, eyes gleaming. “Proximity anchor. Celeste isn’t just powering us—she’s the relay.”
Ray’s mouth tightened. She looked away, flexing her fingers as the glow around her hammer flickered—strong, then uncertain.
“Dammit,” she muttered under her breath. “How am I supposed to get back now?”
Mezzo tilted his head. “Somewhere to be?”
Ray shot him a hard look. “None of your business.”
Mezzo raised both paws. “Alright. You’re the one muttering to yourself.”
She scowled and looked away again. “Shut it, pup.”
But her aura flickered again—strong, then unsteady. Not just power—conflict.
She looked back at the others—Skye picking at a glowing card, Lumina comforting Bonbon, Celeste trying to keep her own doubts buried. They were a strange group, fragile and awkward in their own ways. Not heroes. Not warriors. Not even friends, yet.
Still, she wasn’t dead. And she felt powerful—more powerful than she’d ever been.
Ray crossed her arms, glaring at her reflection in the cracked candy-glass window. “Fine. I’ll stick around. But don’t think for a second I trust any of you.”
Mezzo shrugged, surprisingly level. “Grand. Just don’t get yourself killed tryin’ to prove a point. Ain’t worth it.”
Ray scoffed but didn’t argue.
She stood tense, arms folded like steel. Mezzo tried again, a little softer this time.
“Like it or not, we’re stronger together, y’know. Safer in numbers.”
Ray’s lip curled. “Safer? Please. More people just means more ways to get stabbed in the back.”
Celeste gave her the gentlest smile, lifting a hand shyly. “Still… welcome. Truly.” She held it out, tentative.
Ray looked at the offered hand… then brushed past, shoulder-checking her. Celeste let her arm drop with a quiet sigh, ears flicking down.
Arcade adjusted his cracked glasses, smirking faintly. “For what it’s worth, our next stop is the police station. If anyone still has answers—or weapons—it’ll be there. Unless you’d prefer wandering in circles until the candy eats you.”
Ray froze mid-step, ears twitching. Listening, even if she wouldn’t admit it.
Arcade tilted his head. “Also—you’re walking the wrong way.”
Ray snapped back, eyes flashing. “I knew that.”
Mezzo grinned wide. “Sure ye did, Daywalker.”
Her eyes glowed purple, voice sharp as a blade. “Say that again and I’ll pin your ears to your skull.”
Celeste quickly slid between them, both hands raised. “P-please, no fighting. Not when we’re all so tired.”
Ray rolled her eyes hard, but turned—this time stomping in the right direction.
Bonbon yawned from her nest of plushies, rubbing her eyes with tiny paws. Celeste’s expression softened instantly. She scooped the cub up, nestling her against her hip.
“Aw… somebody missed nap time,” she said warmly, almost singing it.
She looked to Mezzo. “Would you mind carrying Lumina for a bit? I’ve only got two arms.”
Mezzo threw up both paws. “Absolutely not. I don’t do babysittin’.”
Celeste frowned, a little wounded. “She’s not a baby…”
“Baby adjacent. Same thing.”
Lumina immediately stuck out her tongue. “You’re dumb.”
Mezzo staggered back dramatically. “Ach! She speaks! The little one’s roasted me alive!” He made a loud gagging noise, clutching his chest like he’d been mortally wounded.
Arcade muttered, rubbing his temples. “Yes. This circus act is definitely what’ll save Clawdiff.”
And yet… despite the bickering, the rolled eyes, the tired feet—
They kept walking.
Toward the police station.
Toward answers.
Or at least—the next chapter in their strange, glitching story.
