The scanner moved around Celeste like a halo made of questions.
A ring of pale mana-light circled her shoulders, then tilted, sweeping down her spine, her arms, her chest. Tiny lenses opened and closed along its frame, blinking like curious eyes. Every few seconds it beeped.
Then flashed red.
Then green.
Then red again.
Celeste stood very still in the centre of the platform, paws clasped in front of her, trying not to look like she wanted to apologise to the machine for confusing it.
The scanner chimed again.
Not the friendly beep Mezzo had mocked—but a lower, warbling tone that made everyone’s ears prick.
Addfwyn tilted his head, eyes narrowing as new data scrolled past his lenses.
“…Curious,” he murmured.
Celeste blinked. “Is… that a good curious or a bad curious?”
The director clasped his hands behind his back and looked up at her. “The scanner is detecting anomalous biological variance. Commander—have you come into contact with any foreign agents recently? Spores, serums, injections?”
The Knights burst into overlapping laughter.
“Zombies,” Ray said flatly.
“All the time,” Pitch added.
Mezzo gestured broadly. “It’s kind of our thing.”
Celeste nodded sheepishly. “Yeah—um—actually, when I was inside the Gumball, one of the zombies injected me with something. Right here.” She pointed to her shoulder. “It stung for a bit, but I felt fine after.”
The room… shifted.
Addfwyn’s pleasant curiosity sharpened into something far more focused.
He stepped closer to the display, fingers flying across the holo-controls.
“…I see,” he said slowly. “Your genetic markers are already highly unstable—hybridised, layered—but this…”
He glanced up.
“This looks like early-stage alteration. Not corruption. Not infection in the traditional sense.”
Silver stiffened. “Define alteration.”
Arcade leaned forward. “Define it very carefully.”
Addfwyn smiled, unbothered. “Adaptation would be the kinder word. Your cells are… responding. Rewriting themselves.”
Celeste went very still.
“Rewriting?” she echoed.
Lumina reached for her hand instantly. “That doesn’t sound good.”
Skye’s ears flattened. “That sounds bad.”
Mezzo stepped half a pace forward. “How bad are we talking, Doc?”
Addfwyn lifted one hand, not quite calming, not quite dismissive.
“Your rune code is remarkable, Commander, but it will not be able to keep up with changes of this scale forever. Not at this rate.”
Silver’s eyes narrowed. “What does that mean?”
“It means,” Addfwyn said, “that either her body continues changing to support the mana load…”
He tapped the display.
The red warning glyphs folded outward, forming a model of Celeste’s body threaded with too many glowing pathways.
“…or the mana load consumes the support structure entirely.”
Celeste’s ears went flat.
Addfwyn looked at her with an expression that was almost kind.
Almost.
“In simpler terms, Commander, you could disintegrate.”
The word dropped into the lab like a blade.
Celeste went pale.
Mezzo’s face changed. “Say that again.”
Addfwyn didn’t even flinch. “It resembles the old Hybrid detonation failures, only slower. Less immediate combustion. More gradual erosion. The mana eats away at the host faster than the host can adapt.”
Celeste’s hand tightened around Lumina’s.
“Oh,” she whispered.
Silver stepped closer before he seemed to decide to. “You said could.”
“Yes,” Addfwyn replied pleasantly. “Could. Not will. Please don’t worry unnecessarily.”
Everyone stared at him.
“That,” Arcade said, “is the worst possible follow-up to ‘you could disintegrate.’”
Addfwyn ignored him.
“As long as your core remains nice and stable, Commander, you should be fine.”
“Should?” Hughes repeated.
“Science is fond of humility.”
Ray’s stare could have cut glass. “Convenient.”
Addfwyn turned back to the display, his fascination returning like sunlight creeping over something buried.
“Besides, the process is not merely destructive. Your body is creating brand-new mana pathways. Complex ones. Astonishingly complex. I have never seen anything like this before.”
Celeste swallowed. “Is that… because of the injection?”
“Partially, perhaps. Or the injection accelerated something already underway. It is difficult to say without further study.”
Silver’s voice came out colder than before. “Further study of what exactly?”
Addfwyn’s eyes flicked to him.
Then to Celeste.
Then back to the glowing model.
“What her body is trying to become.”
Celeste’s stomach twisted. “Become?”
Silver went very still. “Director.”
Addfwyn smiled faintly, as though discussing a beautiful equation rather than someone’s life.
“It may be making her into something new.”
The lab seemed to hum louder.
Celeste looked at the display. At the red lights. At the unfamiliar glowing pathways spreading through the shape of her own body like roots through glass.
Then she looked at Addfwyn.
“Can we stop it, please?”
For once, the director did not answer immediately.
He folded his hands behind his back.
His smile softened.
But his eyes stayed sharp.
“I’m not sure we can,” he said. “We would need further study.”
Silver opened his mouth.
Closed it.
Opened it again. “Director,” he said coolly, “any such examinations would require Council oversight.”
Addfwyn smiled at him—patient, indulgent, ancient.
“Of course, Lord Arcturus,” he said. “Everything here is above board.”
Ray crossed her arms. “Funny how those words never make me feel better.”
Before the tension could snap—
A soft chime echoed through the lab.
Each Knight’s arcbracer lit up.
Floating HUDs bloomed into view.
MANA FLOW OPTIMISATION COMPLETE
+20% AVAILABLE MANA CAPACITY
STABILITY: IMPROVED
Topsy gasped. “Ooooh! Mine’s sparkly!”
Mezzo flexed experimentally. A lick of flame danced between his fingers—brighter, steadier.
“…Okay,” he admitted. “That is nice.”
Arcade scanned his own readout, frowning. “Flow resistance down. Output efficiency up.”
He glanced at the scientists.
“I hate that I like this.”
Celeste’s own HUD shimmered—then flickered strangely, glyphs lagging half a second behind her movements.
She swallowed.
“I feel… warm,” she said quietly. “Not bad-warm. Just—more.”
Addfwyn watched her like a man watching a puzzle solve itself.
Lady Vale clapped her hands softly, breaking the moment.
“Well!” she said brightly. “Everyone survived, improved, and nothing exploded. A productive morning.”
She knelt in front of Lumina and produced a small toy from her pocket—a wind-up crystal bird that fluttered its wings when turned.
“For bravery,” Vale said kindly.
Lumina’s eyes went huge. “For me?”
“Of course.”
Lumina accepted it reverently. “Thank you, miss!”
Vale straightened, then glanced toward Skye. “Would you like to see the east wing? We have projection gardens and resonance aquariums.”
Skye took an immediate step back. “No. I’m—uh—good here.”
Celeste crouched beside him, gentle. “That’s okay. You don’t have to.”
Vale tilted her head, unoffended. “Perhaps just Lumina, then? A short tour. Educational.”
Celeste hesitated—then nodded. “Alright. But don’t go too far. And stay together, okay?”
Lumina saluted enthusiastically. “Yes, Commander!”
As Vale led Lumina away, Celeste watched them go—unease prickling beneath her fur.
Behind her, Addfwyn folded his hands once more.
“Commander,” he said softly, “your body is doing something extraordinary.”
Celeste didn’t look at him.
“…That’s what everyone keeps saying,” she replied.
Meanwhile, Hughes didn’t like the way Chant moved.
It wasn’t clumsy.
It wasn’t rushed.
It was… compliant.
Too smooth. Too precise. Like every step had already been decided for her.
He leaned closer to Silver, voice barely more than breath.
“Watch her eyes,” Hughes murmured. “She’s not choosing her movements.”
Silver followed his gaze.
Chant passed a terminal, paused for exactly two seconds, turned, and walked toward the lab doors without hesitation—without even glancing at the data pad in her hand.
Silver’s ears flicked. “You think she’s being compelled.”
“I think,” Hughes said evenly, “that she doesn’t want to be doing what she’s doing.”
Hughes straightened and raised his voice just enough to sound casual.
“Silver. Don’t let Celeste out of your sight.”
Silver nodded immediately. No sarcasm. No pushback.
“Understood.”
Hughes turned on his heel. “Arcade. With me.”
Arcade blinked. “Oh good. Crime.”
They moved toward a quieter bank of consoles. Chip floated after them, humming cheerfully.
Hughes gestured to the main terminal cluster. “Get me everything. Logs, overrides, access flags. Anything that smells like suppression.”
Chip spun. “Define ‘suppression.’”
“Mind control,” Arcade said flatly.
Chip’s hum dropped half an octave. “Oh. That suppression.”
Arcade cracked his knuckles. “Chip. Be useful.”
Chip bristled. “I am always useful. You are emotionally abrasive.”
“Hack,” Arcade snapped.
Chip sighed theatrically—and vanished into the system.
Across the room, Pitch slipped his hands into his pockets and gave a lazy stretch.
“Shadow sweep?”
Hughes nodded once.
Pitch melted backward into the wall like smoke pulled by gravity.
Ray stayed where she was, arms folded, eyes locked on Addfwyn.
“So,” Ray said, conversational but sharp, “about that transmission we found. The distress call. Stone corridors. Candy interference. Any idea where it came from?”
Addfwyn blinked slowly, then smiled.
“Ah. That? Almost certainly a fabrication. Godiad systems are very secure.”
Ray tilted her head. “Funny. It was routed through your frequency bands.”
“Coincidence,” Addfwyn replied smoothly. “Perhaps one of my scientists was… joking.”
Before Ray could respond—
Chant stopped beside them.
She turned with mechanical precision.
“I made the video,” she said.
The words landed wrong.
Her tone was flat. Empty. Like she was reciting a line she’d memorized under duress.
Ray stared at her. “You… what?”
Chant didn’t meet his eyes.
“It was a joke. A test of signal integrity.” She tapped her pad once. “Director Addfwyn approved it.”
Addfwyn spread his hands. “You see? Nothing to worry about.”
Ray stepped closer. “Chant. Look at me.”
She didn’t.
“I’m busy,” Chant said instantly. “I need to deliver these results.”
She turned and walked away—too fast, too straight—disappearing into the lab wing.
Ray exhaled slowly through her nose.
“…Yeah,” he muttered. “That was fake as hell.”
Across the room, Silver stood close to Celeste, pretending to study a wall display while keeping his body angled protectively toward her.
“You alright?” he asked quietly.
Celeste nodded, but her fingers had curled into the hem of her tunic without her noticing.
“I feel… watched,” she admitted. “Like everyone keeps looking past me instead of at me.”
Silver’s jaw tightened. “You’re not going anywhere alone.”
She glanced up at him, surprised—and for once, he didn’t look polished or smug.
He looked alert.
At that moment, C.H.I.P.’s voice crackled softly in Arcade’s ear.
“…Arcade,” C.H.I.P. whispered, no humour left at all, “you should probably see this.”
Arcade’s spines bristled.
“Found something?” Hughes asked.
C.H.I.P. hesitated.
“I found everything,” he said. “And none of it is a joke.”
Arcade went very still. “Define everything.”
C.H.I.P.’s tiny projection flickered above Arcade’s bracer, unstable and glitching at the edges. His optics pulsed once.
“I am also detecting multiple life-forms.”
Arcade stared. “We’re in a facility.”
“Yes, USER, but these are—”
C.H.I.P. despawned.
No sparkle.
No smug farewell.
No dramatic little pop.
Just gone.
Arcade blinked at the empty air.
“…Chip?”
Nothing.
The lab hummed on around them.
Too clean.
Too calm.
Arcade’s stomach dropped.
“That wasn’t him being petty.”
Hughes’s grip tightened around his crook. “What happened?”
Arcade didn’t answer.
Because movement caught his eye.
Through the tall observation glass beyond the lab, past the inner courtyard and the soft glow of ward-lamps, a figure stood on the roofline of one of Godiad’s outer buildings.
Still.
Watching.
Not a scientist.
Not security.
Not anyone pretending to belong.
Arcade’s eyes narrowed.
“Hey!”
The figure turned and ran.
Fast.
Practised.
Vanishing behind a raised service duct before the alarm lights even flickered.
Arcade bolted.
“Arcade!” Celeste called.
“Someone’s watching us!” he shouted back, already sprinting for the side doors. “And they just ate my robot!”
Ray swore and summoned Heartbreaker. “That’s either very bad or very rude.”
“Both,” Hughes said grimly.
Silver stepped closer to Celeste without looking away from the glass.
Across the lab, Addfwyn smiled faintly.
The facility lights hummed brighter.
And somewhere in Godiad’s walls, something started moving.
