The cherry-red sports car came screaming through the broken side street like it had personally offended the laws of physics.

It skidded sideways in front of the resistance base, tyres shrieking, engine roaring, loot bags bouncing in the back seat like startled rabbits.

Mezzo slammed one paw onto the horn.

The horn played a jaunty little victory tune.

Celeste, still gripping the passenger-side door like it was the only thing keeping her soul attached to her body, slowly turned her head toward him.

“Did you make the stolen car do that?”

Mezzo shoved his sunglasses up his nose and grinned. “No. Destiny did.”

Plum climbed out of the back seat with the stiff, haunted movements of someone who had been folded around three duffel bags, a priceless painting, and a cursed golden dog head for far too long. Her hair had achieved a shape not normally found in nature.

“I am never sitting in the back again,” she declared. “My spine has filed a complaint.”

Mezzo kicked open the driver’s door and stepped out like a hero arriving at the end of a movie. Soot streaked his jacket. One ear was still faintly smoking. A piece of glittery chocolate coin had somehow stuck to his collar.

He spread his arms dramatically toward the base.

“Knights of Clawdiff!” he bellowed. “We return victorious, stylish, and only slightly legally complicated!”

A shadow passed overhead.

Celeste looked up.

“Oh no.”

From the grey sky descended a sleek Council enforcement droid, all polished brass plating, glowing blue lenses, and the personality of a tax collector trapped in a kettle. It dropped neatly in front of Mezzo with a hiss of stabilising steam.

Its lens scanned him from head to toe.

Then it printed a ticket.

A very long ticket.

Mezzo stared at it. “You have got to be joking.”

The droid’s voice crackled in perfect bureaucratic monotone.

“Notice of violation. Unauthorised vehicle acquisition.”

“It was borrowed!”

“Parking illegally in a restricted emergency refuge zone.”

“There are zombies in the legal parking spaces!”

“Hybrid operating motor vehicle without approved supervision.”

Celeste’s ears shot up. “That one might be fair.”

Mezzo pointed at her. “Do not help the kettle.”

The droid continued.

“Wearing sunglasses whilst operating a vehicle in active pursuit conditions.”

Mezzo gasped. “That is a style crime at worst.”

“Chewing bubblegum whilst driving. Choke hazard.”

There was a pause.

Everyone slowly turned to Mezzo.

Mezzo’s jaw worked once.

A tiny pink bubble appeared between his teeth.

Pop.

Ray, standing at the base gate with both arms folded, closed her eyes like she was physically praying for patience.

Mezzo threw both hands into the air. “Oh come on! I survive a flaming death phoenix, and the Council’s first response is gum safety?”

The droid printed another slip.

“Additional violation: aggressive tone toward enforcement equipment.”

Mezzo made a strangled noise. “I am going to punt you into the sun.”

“Additional violation: threat against enforcement equipment.”

“Stop printing!”

“Additional violation: attempting to interfere with legal documentation.”

Celeste stepped forward, awkward smile fixed in place. “Um, perhaps we can all just take a breath. Not that droids breathe, obviously, but maybe metaphorically? A nice metaphorical breath?”

The droid’s lens shifted toward her.

“Commander Celeste Astallan. Associated passenger. Potential accessory to all listed offences.”

Celeste’s smile died. “Oh.”

Mezzo planted himself between her and the droid. “Oi. If anyone’s getting fined for looking fabulous in a stolen car, it’s me.”

The droid’s chest suddenly sparked with blue light.

A second voice cut through its speaker—smooth, cold, and unmistakably amused.

“Override order authorised.”

Everyone froze.

Lady Umbranox’s voice filled the courtyard.

“Pending status: temporary suspension of charges.”

Mezzo blinked. “Oh, thank the stars.”

“If the involved hybrids successfully complete full Knight recognition, charges will be cleared under emergency civic service exemptions.”

The droid clicked.

“If they fail, all charges remain active and will be pursued in full.”

Mezzo stared at the droid.

Then at the sky.

Then back at the droid.

“So this is blackmail with stationery.”

Umbranox’s voice remained perfectly calm. “Motivation, Mr Swift.”

Mezzo slowly lowered his hands. “Right. Well. Thank you, terrifying shadow auntie.”

There was a long silence.

The droid printed one final slip.

“Verbal disrespect logged.”

Then it zipped upward into the sky and vanished over the rooftops.

Mezzo watched it go, ticket still dangling from his paw.

“I hate government.”

Ray marched across the courtyard before anyone could laugh. Her expression was thunderous, but underneath it was something sharper. Worry. Real worry.

She stopped in front of Celeste.

“Were you successful?”

Celeste’s face lit up with immediate, guilty brightness. “Yes! Well—mostly yes. I mean, there were a few complications, because banks are much stranger inside than I expected. There were turtle things, but also snails, but not really either, and they exploded into chocolate, which sounds fun until you’re being attacked by them. Then there was a vault, but it had another vault inside it, which felt rude, honestly, and then I accidentally opened one with my forehead—”

Ray held up one paw.

Celeste stopped.

Ray slowly raised her Arcbracer.

A paused video hovered above it: the cherry-red sports car tearing down a street, Celeste at the wheel, Mezzo hanging halfway out of the window blasting his axe-guitar, Plum screaming from the back seat, and Phoenix General Ashugar descending behind them in a storm of golden fire.

Celeste’s ears went flat.

Ray stared at her. “Why didn’t you ask for backup?”

Celeste opened her mouth.

Closed it.

Opened it again. “Because… we were very busy being chased?”

Ray’s eye twitched. “Most of Clawdiff saw you, idiot.”

Plum, still brushing ash from her jacket, lifted one finger. “To be fair, most of Clawdiff loved us.”

Ray turned her glare on Plum.

Plum lifted both paws. “I’m just saying. We have supporters now. Actual supporters. Donations came through. Food, medicine, money, blankets, someone offered us a mule, which is confusing but emotionally moving.”

Ray stared.

Plum nodded firmly. “The livestream was a public morale success.”

“You livestreamed a phoenix chase?”

“If this is how I go down, I’m leaving evidence.”

Ray dragged both hands down her face. “I knew I should have gone with you.”

Celeste’s expression softened. “Ray…”

“We could have helped,” Ray snapped, though her voice cracked around the edge of it. “You didn’t have to do that alone.”

Celeste looked down, guilt replacing the nervous smile. “I know. I just… I didn’t think there was time.”

Ray’s anger faltered for half a heartbeat.

Before Celeste could say anything else, Mezzo spotted Pitch near the planning table.

The grin dropped from his face.

Not completely.

But enough.

He grabbed one of the heaviest duffel bags from the back seat and dragged it across the courtyard, dust puffing off it as he dropped it with a satisfying thud in front of Pitch.

“This one’s not for us,” he said, quieter now. “It’s for Jett.”

For a moment, Pitch said nothing.

The noise of the base—the clatter of tools, distant chatter, the hum of the patched generator—faded into a hush.

His golden eyes softened.

Then, without warning, he stepped forward and pulled both Mezzo and Celeste into a tight, silent hug.

Celeste blinked, ears flattening slightly in surprise. “Oh,” she managed softly, but she didn’t pull away. Her paws came up slowly, returning the hug.

Mezzo, caught mid-smirk, just smiled wider and leaned into it, his tail thumping softly against his leg.

“I didn’t think you remembered,” Pitch muttered. “About Jett.”

Plum, standing off to the side, lowered her camera and gave a rare, genuine smile. “Of course they remembered, you big grump.”

“Of course we remembered,” Celeste said gently.

“You’re family, wolfy,” Mezzo added, voice warm and teasing. “And family gets weird, breaks laws, and maybe robs banks for each other.”

Pitch let out a breath that might’ve been a laugh. “You’re idiots.”

“But lovable ones,” Mezzo said brightly.

Plum crossed her arms with a grin. “Mostly lovable. Somewhat explosive. But still family.”

Pitch finally let go, stepping back and clearing his throat like the hug had never happened. “I’ll get this hidden somewhere safe. You three… rest before you find new ways to get arrested.”

Mezzo glanced at the long Council ticket still in his paw.

“Technically,” he said, “I think we already found several.”

Ray snatched the ticket from his hand and scanned it.

Her brow furrowed.

“Chewing bubblegum whilst driving?”

Mezzo looked wounded. “It was emotional support gum.”

Celeste gave him a tired little smile. “I don’t think that’s a legal category.”

“It should be.”

As Pitch turned to leave, Mezzo nudged Celeste with his elbow and a grin. “So, same time next week? Maybe an art museum this time? Little less bird, little more sparkle?”

Celeste rolled her eyes, though her smirk betrayed her amusement. “I was thinking of retiring after one perfect heist, but… sure. Why not? Give it a while.”

Plum raised a paw. “I call dibs on not driving this time.”

“Deal,” Celeste said, laughing softly. “Besides, I’ve got a hoard to organise.”

She padded down toward the lower storage level, tail flicking behind her.

The room she chose was quiet—an old security vault that smelled faintly of metal and dust. Inside, she carefully arranged her spoils: the tiaras, the jewel-studded choker, the gold-antler crown, even the smug, heavy dog head that somehow looked proud of its mischief.

Last of all, she placed the painting—Fleeting Divinity—gently against the back wall.

She stood there for a moment, gazing at the soft shimmer of the brushwork.

Her reflection flickered faintly in the glass—tired, alive, victorious.

Her petty vengeance against pretentious academia would have to wait.

Lumina’s small voice echoed softly from the doorway.
“...Celeste?”

Celeste nearly jumped, spinning around from her spot near the vault. “Oh! Stars above—Lumina, sweetheart, you scared me.”

The little glow-cat hybrid stood half-hidden behind the wall, her ears low and her eyes glassy. “Can I… talk to you for a second?”

Celeste immediately softened, kneeling down a little. “Of course, darling. What’s wrong?”

Lumina shuffled in, paws twisting nervously in front of her. “Why didn’t you want to take me with you?”

Celeste froze, tail twitching once. “Oh—no, it’s not that, sweetie. I just… it was dangerous. I didn’t want you hurt.”

“I know,” Lumina said quietly. “But I get scared here without you. It feels like you don’t want me to come with you anymore. And Skye thinks Arcade doesn’t want him either.”

Celeste’s chest ached. She reached forward, but Lumina didn’t move closer. “No, no, it’s not like that at all, sweetheart. It’s just—there’s a lot of dangerous stuff we’ve been doing. I don’t want you anywhere near it.”

Lumina’s ears flattened. “So, I’m strong enough to take on zombies, but not help you rob a bank?”

Celeste blinked. “Oh stars, when you put it like that—listen, honey, if we got caught, I’d be going to jail for years. Maybe even executed. I couldn’t risk that happening with you there.”

Lumina’s voice cracked slightly. “What about the werewolf? Or when you went to the Mythics? You didn’t take us then either. I think…” Her throat wobbled. “I think you like your new friends more.”

“No!” Celeste said quickly, standing up, panic in her tone. “No, Lumina, it’s not that at all. I’m just—” She faltered, the words trembling on her tongue. “I’m trying to be responsible. I’m struggling, sweetheart. I’m scared I can’t protect you the way Dad could.”

Her tail lowered, her voice softening. “I know I’m not your mum. I’m not trying to be. But I want to keep you safe, Lumina. You should be doing kid things—painting, laughing, teasing Bonbon—not following scary adults into danger.”

Lumina looked at her, eyes glimmering with emotion. For a moment, she opened her mouth to say something—but stopped.

“I know,” she whispered. “I just…” Her lip trembled. “You know what? Never mind. I’m sorry.”

“Lumina, wait—” Celeste reached out, but the little hybrid was already turning, walking quickly down the corridor with her head bowed.

“Lumina, don’t go, sweetie,” Celeste pleaded, her voice breaking slightly as her paw fell uselessly to her side.

But Lumina didn’t stop.

“Celeste!”

Arcade’s voice echoed through the corridor, urgent but chipper as always. “Uh, you might want to fix your fur and look busy—Brassmane’s here!”

Celeste’s ears shot up. “Oh dear… he must be here to shout at us.” She turned quickly, brushing her gold curls with her paw in panic. “Um—quick, get everyone to the front! Pretend we weren’t just… doing highly illegal things!”

Arcade blinked. “We weren’t—?”

“Now!”