Celeste followed Ray and the others down the dim hallway, the soft hum of mana conduits buzzing above them. Every footstep echoed with tension.

Pitch walked behind her, one hand resting on his gun, eyes flicking toward her every few seconds like she might explode into mana fire again at any moment.
When Celeste let out a sudden sneeze, he visibly jumped.

“…Still me,” she muttered, sniffling.

Mezzo, just ahead, glanced back with a small, crooked smile. Celeste returned it—grateful. It felt like the first real warmth she’d been offered in what felt like forever.

Ray muttered under her breath, “Should we have… handcuffed her first?”

Lumina puffed her cheeks, clutching Celeste’s hand tighter. “She’s not a criminal, Ray!”

Bonbon toddled behind, swinging her glittery lollipop wand and mumbling spells under her breath—most of which involved toasters, butterflies, and marshmallows.

They rounded a corner—two familiar figures waiting in the low glow.

“Celeste!” Plum Clippings nearly toppled forward, camera tablet bouncing against her hip. “Stars above, you’re alive! You look like you crawled out of a blender haunted by angry ghosts—but, like, in a heroic way!”

Pitch grumbled, “Now’s not really the best time for a scoop, Plum.”

Plum threw her paws up, grinning. “Hey, hey—I get it! I’ll shut up. Just saying—whenever you do wanna talk? On record, off record, midnight by candlelight? I’m your gal.”

Celeste gave her a weary but genuine smile. “…Thanks. Maybe later.”

A steadier voice cut in—low, measured, with a Highland lilt. Kirrin stepped forward, hefting a battered duffel that clanked with every step. Her gear was rugged and patched, goggles pushed up onto her brow.

“Got the parts yer genius was cryin’ about,” she said, and with a flick of muscle, tossed the whole bag straight into Arcade’s arms.

He staggered, grunting. “...Sweet mana. That weighs a ton.”

“Three turbine rotors, coolant conduits, stabilizer core.” Kirrin ticked them off on her fingers. “And a tin o’ coffee. Had to nick it from a vending machine guarded by a bughog the size of a horsefly swarm. Nearly bit me nose off.”

Arcade’s eyes lit up like a kid at Solstice. “You absolute saint. Gwennan’s finally getting her upgrades.”

Celeste tilted her head. “Gwennan?”

Arcade puffed his chest, smug. “Our transport. By the time I’m done, she’ll be a stealth-drive, mana-humming legend. With cupholders. Multiple cupholders.”

Plum raised an eyebrow. “Transport, or girlfriend?”

“Don’t judge our love.”

Kirrin snorted, muttering, “Bloody engineers.” Then her gaze shifted to Celeste. She raised her chin, expression calm but probing. “So… you’re really back? All of ye? Not just a shadow o’ what’s left?”

Celeste swallowed, hesitating before she nodded once. Her eyes flickered to Plum, who was already leaning in like a hound on a trail.

“Later, Plum,” Celeste said softly. “I promise. You’ll get your story. Just… not yet.”

Plum’s shoulders slumped, but only for a heartbeat before she lit up again. “Fine. But I want first dibs—and no skippin’ the juicy bits!”

The heavy biscuit door to the cookie room creaked open, sugar crystals catching the light.

Inside wasn’t large — but it looked like a candy beehive come to life. Walls curved like honeycombs, made from translucent panels that glowed softly with warm amber light. The air smelled faintly of caramel and vanilla, sweet but tinged with the hum of electricity.

Scattered throughout were salvaged pieces of tech—gleaming circuit boards, cracked whiteboards scrawled with frantic notes, and a flickering digital map table pulsing with vital data. Every piece had been scavenged from the ruins of the city and stitched together with care and desperation.

Celeste stepped inside first, her movements slow but steady. Ray, Pitch, and Arcade followed close behind, their faces tight with unease amidst the strange mix of whimsy and urgency.

Inside, Bracer and Hughes stood waiting beside a large table, where a holographic interface hovered midair—charts, mana readings, timeline overlays. The atmosphere was thick with something that wasn’t quite hostility… but definitely wasn’t casual.

It looked like an interrogation.

Celeste swallowed hard, ears twitching.

Even if they didn’t have chains, this still felt like a trial.

The door shut behind them. The room fell into a tense silence.

Inside the warded chamber, Hughes sat on a low stool, carefully pruning a tiny bonsai tree with a set of delicate clippers. The soft snip of branches was the only sound. Across the table, Bracer stood, a glowing security feed already hovering above his palm.

He didn’t speak. He just motioned to the chair opposite him.

Celeste hesitated, then chose the one closest to the door. Her hands fidgeted in her lap, fingers picking at the edge of a bandage.

Hughes looked up from his bonsai. “Y’know why you’re here, lass?”

Celeste swallowed. “I… I don’t. Not really.”

Bracer tossed her a small hologram orb. “Then watch.”

Celeste caught it clumsily and pressed her thumb to the node.

The footage bloomed into the air above them.

She watched herself in the heart of chaos—blazing, unrecognizable. Her hoodie torn to rags. Stars burning across her skin. Eyes glowing like collapsing suns. She moved like a glitch in reality—erratic, explosive, terrifying.

With each step the world bent: structures collapsed, lights shattered, people screamed. The image shook as if the camera itself were afraid.

Celeste’s breath caught.
She shook her head violently.
“No… no, no, that’s not me. That’s not—what is that?!”

Bracer crossed his arms, eyes cold. “That was you.”

Pitch’s shadow curled at his feet. “After Saff tore your rune out. That’s what spilled loose. So… what the hell is it?”

Ray slammed a palm onto the table, voice sharp. “And don’t bullshit us. If you can go off like that and kill us all, I’d rather take my chances knowing now than wait for the next time.”

“Ray—” Skye started.

“No,” Ray snapped, then faltered. “I… of course I do. I just…” She clenched her fists. “Just answer the question. Did you know this could happen?”

Celeste’s breathing turned shallow. “I didn’t know. I swear. I never— I’d never want to hurt you. Any of you.”

Mezzo’s voice was quieter, but cutting. “When was your first flare? Be honest. As a kid?”

Celeste stared at him, trembling. “I… I don’t remember ever flaring. Not once. I don’t think I did.”

Pitch leaned in, eyes narrowing. “Earliest memory, then. Any memory. A spark. A slip. Anything.”

Celeste closed her eyes, trying to focus, the words tumbling out fast. “Before the comic-con… I never used mana. I tried, back where I lived—at my man— I mean, at my house. My teacher, Orbal, he tried to show me but I couldn’t do it.”

Lumina stepped forward, voice soft. “Me too. We both couldn’t. We thought… we thought we were just blanks.”

Arcade folded his arms, brow furrowed behind his lenses. “Sorry, but either you’re lying or something’s off. Runes aren’t perfect. Sometimes mana flares through, especially with unstable hybrids. But nothing like that just happens without a trigger.”

Celeste stared at the flickering projection of herself, hands shaking. “I don’t… I don’t know. I don’t…”

Bracer folded his arms, studying her with that unblinking stare of his.
“How old are you?” he asked. “Date of birth.”

Celeste smiled, relieved. “Oh! Easy. First of Velmara.”

Bracer didn’t react.
“And the year?”

Celeste opened her mouth to answer—
Then paused.
A flicker of something crossed her face. Confusion. Pain.

She looked at her fingers.
Then slowly began counting backwards under her breath.
“Okay, if the festival was in… and then—oh no wait, one, two, three…”

Lumina piped up suddenly, cheerful as ever. “I’m seven! Does that help?”

Celeste gave her a wobbly smile. “No, no, it’s okay, Lumi, I’ll… I’ll get it.” She kept muttering, the numbers tangling in her head.

The room exchanged looks.

Arcade raised an eyebrow. “Alright, easier one. How old are you now?”

Celeste blinked. Then stared into the middle distance.
“Um… eighteen? No, wait—twenty-one. I think?”
She scratched her head. “...I’ll get back to you.”

Mezzo gave a loud, incredulous snort. “Saints preserve us—were ye raised in a feckin’ cult? Who doesn’t know their age?”

Celeste laughed too, but it cracked at the edges. “Hah… maybe? I mean, I don’t think so. But maybe?”

She straightened, too quickly, like she could fix it with confidence.
“No—I’ve got it. I’m eighteen. My dad said I couldn’t go to university until I was a legal adult. Well—actually, he said, ‘Never. You’re never leaving this building.’ So…” She faltered, frowning. “…that means eighteen, right?”

Arcade leaned back in his chair, deadpan. “This is not filling me with confidence, anime.”

Bracer steepled his fingers. “Point being: in all that time—not one single mana flare-up. And then when it happens…” He gestured at the frozen hologram still hanging above the table. “…this.”

Celeste’s shoulders hunched. “I have no idea.”

Hughes tapped his bonsai scissors against the crate thoughtfully. “You’re hybrid, aye? What species was your father?”

“Oh, easy!” Celeste brightened. “A ragdoll. Like me.” She smiled, proud to finally have an answer.

“Alright,” Hughes said, nodding. “And your mother?”

Celeste hesitated, then shrugged. “Oh… a mare. I think.”

Lumina glanced at the others nervously. “We… we don’t even know what she looks like.”

Mezzo frowned. “That doesn’t add up. If your da’s a ragdoll and your mum’s a mare, you’d be a pureblood. No mana. And yet…” He waved at the image. “…you’re bending bloody reality.”

The room went quiet for a moment.

Celeste gave them a desperate little smile, trembling. “…I really feel like this is a test I forgot to study for.”

She straightened suddenly. “Wait—I have a book. From the library. I picked it up about that sort of thing, I can go grab it—”

Bracer cut in flatly. “Love, you're either a mythic or a hybrid. It’s one or the other. Which means either your dad’s lying to you… or you’re lying to us.”

Celeste's breath caught. Her mouth opened, then shut. Finally, she said quietly, “I—I don’t know. I just know my dad had dragon horns. And wings. He never got them removed.”

That made Hughes sit forward, brow raised. “Impossible. All hybrids had to have those removed by law. Regulation 27-B. If he still had his… then he was breaking code.”

Ray leaned in, arms crossed. “So your dad sounds like a hybrid. But if your mum was a mare and he was a hybrid, you should be a pureblood. Or a mythic. And you’re neither.”

She fixed Celeste with a hard stare. “So either your dad’s a type of mythic no one’s ever heard of… or you’re lying, Celeste. Which is it?”

Celeste’s mouth worked silently for a second, her hands trembling.

“I—” she choked, “I don’t know. I really don’t know. Please stop—”

Ray’s voice cut sharp. “I’ll stop when you start being honest!”

“I am!” Celeste cried. Her head dropped into her hands, her voice cracking. “I don’t know. I don’t know what’s happening to me.”

A silence thudded into the room.

Bracer raised a hand gently. “Ray. That’s enough.”

He turned to Celeste, his voice lower now. “We need to understand, Celeste. Not to condemn you. But so it doesn’t happen again.”

Celeste swallowed, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know what to tell you. If the rune doesn’t work—” she looked down at her palms, trembling “—then I don’t know what to do.”

Arcade rubbed the back of his neck. “Your mana levels are insane. Not just high—wrong. Dangerous for you and Lumi both. We need to know what’s crawling under your skin before it tears through the rest of us.”

Ray folded her arms, her tone sharp. “You better. Mezzo nearly died because of you.”

Mezzo raised a hand sheepishly. “Eh, I just ran fast in the wrong direction. Wouldn’t call it dying. Call it cardio.”

Celeste stood abruptly, unsteady on her feet. “I..I need some air.”

Mezzo straightened. “I’ll go with ye.”

She hesitated — then nodded. Lumina quietly got up and took Celeste’s hand. Bonbon trailed after them, her glittery wand dragging softly along the floor.

The door slid shut behind them.

A beat of silence.

Arcade let out a long breath. “Well. That could’ve gone better.”

Hughes nodded grimly. “I wanted to dig more. But pushin’ harder—she’d have shattered.”

Ray clenched her jaw. “I still think she’s lying.”

Arcade looked at her. “Even if she is—she doesn’t know what. That much is clear. Which means we need a failsafe before she lights up again.”

Hughes leaned back, arms crossed. “Failsafe or no… if it’s in her blood, it’s just buying time. I’ve seen it before. Clock always runs down.”

Bracer, arms folded, stared at the closed door. “Then we start training. All of us. In case she loses control again — and any of you lose your ability to summon weapons.”

Hughes gave a small, tired nod. “Couldn’t hurt.”