The arguing had stopped sounding like arguing and started sounding like something breaking.

Celeste lingered in the corridor outside the meeting room, Bonbon’s doll clutched tight against her chest. One paw rested against the doorframe. The other curled into the plush until its little stitched ears bent beneath her grip.

She had come back carefully.

Slowly.

The way someone approached a wounded animal.

Or a bomb.

Inside, voices crashed over one another.

Ray.

Arcade.

Hughes.

The others.

Not talking anymore.

Fighting.

Celeste swallowed, staring at the half-open door as if it might bite her.

She had been thinking about what to say the entire walk back.

Every version of it sounded wrong.

Too selfish.

Too cowardly.

Too late.

She had turned the sentence over and over in her head until it became sharp enough to hurt.

Can I stop?

No.

That sounded childish.

I can’t do this anymore.

No.

That sounded weak.

Please let me leave.

No.

That sounded like she was asking permission to abandon them.

In the end, she had chosen the worst question she could imagine.

The most honest one.

And that made it unbearable.

Something smashed inside the room.

Celeste flinched.

She pushed the door open.

The meeting table had been shoved halfway across the floor. Papers were scattered everywhere. One chair lay on its side, its legs still twitching with sparks.

Arcade stood near the far wall with his stabiliser rune yanked out, quills blazing electric-blue along his back. Lightning crawled over his arms in jagged lines, snapping between his fingers and the metal buckles on his coat.

Across from him, Ray was no longer simply Ray.

She was flame.

Her rune was out too, and her full violet phoenix form burned around her like a living storm. Wings of purple fire stretched from her back, scattering embers across the ceiling. Her hair lifted in the heat. Her eyes glowed white-hot.

Hughes stood between them, arms spread, roots already splitting through the floorboards at his feet.

“Enough!” he barked. “Both of you, pack it in before someone loses an eye!”

Arcade hurled a burst of lightning across the room.

Hughes cursed, vines snapping up to catch most of it.

Not all.

A stray fork clipped Ray’s shoulder.

She staggered, feathers flaring, then rounded on Arcade with a snarl.

“You stupid idiot!” she shouted. “You care more about your cousin than the rest of us!”

Arcade’s quills sparked brighter.

“No shit!” he snapped. “But at least I’m not standing here worrying about which faction is going to give me the most grief if I pick the wrong side!”

Ray’s fire surged.

“Oh, will you fuck off already?”

Arcade spread his arms, mouth twisting.

“Ladies first.”

He glanced her up and down.

“Oh wait. I don’t see one.”

Ray launched over the table.

Not around it.

Over it.

The full violet blaze of her wings tore across the room, claws out, teeth bared, fury dragging sparks in her wake.

Arcade braced, lightning gathering in both hands.

Hughes moved faster.

Roots erupted from the floor and wrapped around Ray’s waist, arms, and wings, yanking her back mid-lunge. She hit the ground in a crouch, snarling, vines creaking as she fought them.

“Ray!” Hughes growled. “Don’t make me plant you in the bloody floor!”

Ray thrashed once.

Arcade lifted his chin, breathing hard.

Hughes shot him a look sharp enough to cut steel.

“And you. One more word, lad, and I’ll grow moss in places you won’t enjoy.”

Arcade’s mouth opened.

Then closed.

The room still crackled with heat and lightning.

Nobody had noticed Celeste.

Celeste came back into the room quietly, Bonbon’s doll held tight against her chest. She stood there for a moment, waiting for a gap.

“Can I have a word?” she asked.

No one stopped.

Voices overlapped. Accusations bounced around the room. Plans argued into dust.

Celeste swallowed.

“I’d like to quit,” she said softly. “If that’s okay.”

You could have heard a pin drop.

Ray turned to her slowly. Her voice, when it came, was frighteningly calm—thin as a blade pulled halfway from its sheath.

“What do you mean, quit?”

Celeste met her eyes. “I’m going to go save Bonbon before she gets eaten. And I can’t convince you to help. So I’d like to quit, so you can make the decisions you want without me please.”

Ray was in front of her before she finished the sentence.

“If you quit,” Ray said, low and shaking, “we are done. Your core holds us together. If you quit, we are not Knights. And if we are not Knights, the Council hangs us.”

Her jaw tightened.

“So no,” she snapped. “That is the stupidest thing you could have said.”

Celeste didn’t raise her voice. “But...You don’t let me make any decisions.”

Something in Ray finally broke.

“I do,” she shouted. “And every time you do, I’m the one following behind, cleaning up the mess!”

She gestured wildly around the room. “You’re impossible. Even now—all you’re thinking about is yourself.”

Celeste flinched but didn’t back away.

“A toddler you found—who isn’t even yours—is trapped in a gumball, surrounded by an army of zombies and a dragon general,” Ray continued, voice cracking with fury. “And you think you can solo that?”

Celeste nodded.

“I think I can try.”

Ray laughed—short, sharp, unhinged. “I am this close to taking this outside, Celeste, because you are not getting it.” She jabbed a finger toward her chest. “You’re willing to risk all of us for one toddler who can’t fight, can’t contribute, and isn’t even yours.”

Celeste nodded again, tears glassing her eyes. “I know. But I hoped—”

“Enough,” Ray cut her off.

She took a breath. When she spoke again, her voice was steady—but cruel in its clarity.

“This is bigger than you. And I can’t afford to let you be stupid.”

Before anyone could react, Ray reached out, grabbed a loose metal pipe from the wall—and bent it with brute force, wrapping it around Celeste’s waist and pinning her hard against the stone.

The impact knocked the breath from her lungs.

Ray stepped back immediately, already turning away. “You’re not leaving,” she said flatly.

The room exploded.

“What the hell, Ray?!”
“You can’t do that!”
“Are you out of your mind?!”

Pitch swore. Mezzo lunged forward. Arcade shouted her name. Hughes barked orders, trying to restore control.

Celeste didn’t move.

She just stood there, pinned to the wall, stunned—confused, breath shallow, hands still clutching Bonbon’s doll as voices erupted around her.

She hadn’t expected agreement.

But she hadn’t expected this.

The arguing didn’t stop.

It spilled out of the Cookie Room and into the halls—raised voices, sharp no’s, desperate please’s, words colliding without ever landing. Someone slammed a door. Another voice shouted back. Footsteps stormed away, then returned, then left again.

Celeste stayed where she was.

Pinned. Silent.

She stared at the floor, Bonbon’s doll pressed so tight to her chest it hurt, while the sound of her family breaking apart echoed through the base.

Eventually, the voices faded.

A final door slammed.

Silence crept back in.

Hughes returned alone.

He looked older somehow—shoulders slumped, jaw tight, eyes tired in a way that had nothing to do with lack of sleep.

“I tried,” he said quietly, resting his crook against the wall. “Tried to talk some sense into her. She isn’t having it. Not right now.”

Celeste nodded faintly.

“Where are the kids?” she asked, voice hoarse.

Hughes sighed. “Outside. Ray’s got them doing cleanup chores for running off yesterday. Keeps them busy. Keeps them contained.”

Celeste closed her eyes for a second.

The door creaked open again.

Topsy slipped in, carrying a small crate of snacks balanced precariously on one arm and dragging a low stool with the other.

“Hi,” she said softly, eyes flicking to the bent pipe, then back to Celeste’s face. “Um. I brought snacks. And… sitting equipment.”

She set the stool down right in front of Celeste, then awkwardly nudged it closer with her foot.

“And I can stay,” Topsy added quickly. “I’m very good at staying. I once stayed in a cupboard for four hours because a teacher told me not to touch a button.”

Celeste huffed a weak, broken almost-laugh.

“…Thanks.”

Topsy smiled and settled in beside her without another word, offering a packet of something sugary and quietly opening one for herself.

Celeste exhaled, long and tired.

“…How long do I have to stand here?” she asked, staring at the pipe still pinning her in place.

Hughes rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m guessing until Ray comes to her senses.”

He glanced at the metal, then back at Celeste.

“But,” he added, already turning, “I’ll look for a plasma torch.”

He paused at the door and looked back at her—really looked.

“Just… please stay put, alright, lass?”

Celeste nodded.

She didn’t trust her voice.

Hughes left.

Topsy shuffled a little closer on the floor, leaning her shoulder lightly against Celeste’s leg like an anchor.

Bartleby burst in mid-sentence, arms full of papers, still talking as if the room hadn’t changed.

“—and the outer perimeter is a disaster, the campsite is completely trashed, we’ve got displaced families asking about rations and—”

He stopped.

Gasped.

The papers slipped from his hands and scattered across the floor.

“What in the world happened to you?” he blurted, staring at Celeste pinned to the wall like a bad mural.

Behind him, Kirrin had followed in—mud on her boots, feathers singed at the tips, grin already splitting her face.

She took one look at the bent pipe.

And lost it.

“Oh stars above—!” she barked, doubling over, thick Northen accent punching through the laughter. “Did ye lose a fight wi’ the wall, lass? That’s a new one—!”

Topsy looked up from her snacks. “Celeste went to rescue Bonbon,” she said helpfully. “She’s been kidnapped by the Minotaur and Ray bolted her to the wall for trying.”

Kirrin’s laughter stopped like someone had cut the string.

Her smile vanished.

Bartleby’s ears flattened.

“Oh,” he said softly. “Oh no… I thought she was safe. She was with Plum when the fighting started. I—I should have looked harder. I really should have—”

He bent quickly, gathering his papers again with shaking hands.

“But,” he added, trying to recover, “I did bring help. The campsite—well, it’s a mess, but not unsalvageable.”

Kirrin straightened, all mirth gone now.

“The Mythics are here to assist,” she said, voice steady, formal. “We’re sorry about the fight yesterday—about the mana storm. We had no idea ye were in trouble. If we had—”

Celeste shook her head faintly.

“It’s fine,” she said. “I just need to save Bonbon.”

The words came out flat. Certain. Like gravity.

She stared at nothing.

She kept seeing Bonbon’s face.

Wondering if she was crying.
If she was being brave.
If she was cold.
If she was—

She stopped herself there.

Arcade popped his head around the corner, goggles crooked, eyes immediately locking onto Celeste still pinned to the wall.

“…So,” he said carefully. “How’re you holding up?”

Celeste didn’t hesitate. “Honestly? I really need to pee. And I’m really worried about Bonbon.”

Arcade nodded like both problems ranked equally. “Yeah. I see the issue.”

He snapped his fingers. “I might have someone who can help with at least one of those.”

A flicker of light.

C.H.I.P. popped into existence mid-air, spinning once before landing with a cheerful clank.

“HELLO FRIENDS,” he chirped. “I HAVE BEEN SUMMONED FOR HEROISM OR PROPERTY DAMAGE. PLEASE ADVISE.”

“Laser eyes,” Arcade said, pointing.

“DELIGHTED,” C.H.I.P. replied.

Twin beams flared.

The bent pipe screamed as it split cleanly in half, metal dripping molten sparks. The pressure vanished instantly.

Celeste pitched forward with a startled, very undignified—

“Oof!”

She didn’t even look back.

She ran.

Fast.

Too fast.

Mezzo rounded the corner just in time to see her vanish down the corridor, Bracer right behind him.

“…Wow,” Mezzo said. “Her bladder must be angry to break out of that.”

Kirrin pinched the bridge of her nose. “That wisnae her.”

C.H.I.P. puffed up proudly. “PLEASE DO NOT TAKE CREDIT FOR MY CRIMES.”

Celeste returned a minute later, visibly lighter, face still drawn but breathing easier.

Arcade met her eyes immediately.

“You helped me get Skye back,” he said quietly. “So… I think we should try and get Bonbon.”

Celeste froze.

“…Won’t that make Ray mad?”

Mezzo waved a hand dismissively. “Screw her. Besides—if we’re quick, we’ll be back before she even notices.”

Bracer hesitated, arms crossed. “I don’t want to start a fight with Hughes or Ray,” he admitted. “But… I want to try. Those kids—my new recruits—this was their first day. And it turned into a raid.”

He exhaled. “I feel bad.”

Mezzo bounced on his heels. “Also, I really don’t like Ray telling me what to do.”

Kirrin looked between them, expression sharp now, calculating. “Aye. So how do we handle this without gettin’ everyone killed?”

Celeste’s mind finally kicked back into motion.

“…The pods,” she said slowly.

Everyone turned to her.

“We hide in the pods,” she said. “If I hide in one,” Celeste continued, voice steadier the more she spoke, “they’ll lift me up. That’s how they’re moving people. Once I’m inside, I can break out on the other side. We sneak in, find Bonbon—and anyone else we can—and get out.”

Silence.

Arcade’s mouth curved slowly. “That is… extremely stupid.”

C.H.I.P. tilted his head. “STATISTICALLY UNSOUND. EMOTIONALLY COMPELLING.”

Then Mezzo grinned. “That’s the worst idea I’ve ever heard.”

Arcade nodded. “Agreed.”

Topsy clapped once. “I’m in.”

Bracer rubbed his face. “…Stars help us.”

Kirrin clicked her tongue, wings rustling. “Stars help us. All right. I’m in too.”

Celeste looked around at them—really looked.

Her chest tightened.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

And for the first time since Bonbon disappeared, the panic loosened just enough to let something else in.

Hope.

Messy.
Risky.
Stupid.

But hope all the same.