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 chest. “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.

“Observation!” Chip chimed from above, whirring as his antenna glowed. “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. “You’re this close to being punted into a fudge fountain, toaster.”

Arcade adjusted his glasses, ignoring them. “So… our cores are summoning weapons. Like bound weapons, yeah?”

“That is correct!” Chip trilled, wings buzzing smugly.

Arcade’s ears twitched. “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, paw swiping through the projection. “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. “What do you mean?”

Chip’s antenna flicked. “Additional note: Celeste and Lumina’s cores are… different. Unique configurations. My data banks contain no prior match.”

Arcade’s voice cracked. “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 hunched her shoulders, ears drooping, her voice small. “It was probably the gumdrop…”

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 narrowed her gaze. “So what—you’re saying I’m a side quest in someone else’s story?”

Mezzo leaned against a shattered rail, smirking. “Side quest? Nah. You’ve got ‘loud, chaotic main character energy’ written all over you.”

Ray scowled. “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.