With a terrifying roar, it slammed its other fist into the ground, sending a shockwave that knocked Ray off balance. She tumbled back, heart pounding.
Pitch dove forward, firing a concentrated burst of cards that carved a glowing trail across the Golem’s chest.
The giant paused—staggered—before its eyes locked onto something behind Pitch.
“Time to sweeten the odds,” Pitch muttered, flicking a silver coin into the air.
“Double or Nothing!”
The coin spun, catching the molten light—then landed flat on the cracked steel floor with a dull clink.
Nothing.
No reload. No power surge. No miracle wild card.
Pitch’s smirk faltered. “...Really? That’s it?”
The Golem’s response was a backhanded sweep of its massive arm, forcing him to roll frantically aside as the blow obliterated a catwalk behind him.
Before the titan could follow through, a streak of motion cut across the haze. Celeste leapt upward, wings of mana briefly feathering from her back, her blades flashing with soft light.
“Featherfall Slash!”
She arced high above the Golem’s shoulder, then descended in a graceful, deadly curve. Her twin katanas slashed downward, leaving trails of white-feathered energy that carved into the titan’s molten frame. The impact hissed like quenched steel, sparks and feathers scattering in the furnace-lit air.
The Golem bellowed, staggering under Celeste’s feathered strike, molten plates dripping loose from its shoulders.
A sharp crack rang out.
Then another.
Plum had climbed onto a broken loading platform near the edge of the arena, one knee braced against the railing, her gun held steady in both paws. Her ears were pinned back, her expression no longer bright or nosy or theatrical.
She looked focused.
Coldly focused.
She fired again.
The bullet struck a narrow seam where Celeste’s slash had weakened the Golem’s shoulder. Not the armour. Not the thick plates. The tiny exposed joint beneath.
The Golem jerked.
Arcade glanced up, startled. “Did she just—?”
Plum fired twice more.
One shot snapped a glowing rune-clamp loose. The second punched into a cracked hinge behind the Golem’s elbow. Its arm sagged half an inch.
Ray stared. “She’s aiming for the bits where it’s already struggling.”
Pitch rolled behind cover, eyes widening. “Well, I’ll be damned.”
Mezzo blinked. “Without mana?”
Plum adjusted her aim with a grim little smile. “Some of us had to learn the old-fashioned way.”
She fired again.
The Golem’s damaged shoulder buckled.
Arcade stared at her like he had just discovered a knife hidden inside a teacup. “Right. New rule. Never annoy the bunny.”
Hughes stepped forward, crook gleaming. He twirled it in a sweeping arc, sandlike sparks spilling from its runes.
“Hourglass Spin!”
A ripple of distorted air burst outward as the crook struck metal. The Golem was knocked back a half-step, dust and embers swirling into a shimmering hourglass-shaped vortex. For a moment, projectiles and shards of molten steel slowed midair—frozen like falling sand caught in glass.
“Your window,” Hughes murmured.
Ray didn’t hesitate. She slammed Heartbreaker into the ground with both hands, phoenix fire roaring outward.
“Hammer Pulse!”
Flames surged in a radial wave, igniting cracks in the factory floor and lashing against the Golem’s legs. The pulse washed over her allies, flooding them with a blazing rush—Celeste’s blades glowing brighter, Pitch’s cards sparking hotter, Hughes’s crook resonating with a deeper hum.
“Time to amp it up!” Arcade shouted, goggles snapping down over his eyes.
C.H.I.P. chimed a cheerful, “Overdrive online!”
Circuits along his body lit up. Electricity crackled between boy and bot, linking them in a surge of pure energy.
“Overdrive Surge!”
C.H.I.P. blurred forward, his movements suddenly too fast for the eye to follow. Lightning danced across his fists as he hammered into the Golem’s weakened plates, each strike echoing like thunderclaps. C.H.I.P., now a hulking combat form, followed with a heavy slam that shook the factory floor.
The combined assault left the titan reeling, its runes flickering, smoke and sparks cascading from fresh wounds.
But molten steel still coursed through its frame, threatening to knit it back together once more.
Mezzo planted his boots, swung his guitar-axe forward, and dragged one paw hard over the strings.
The first note screamed.
Then he grabbed the whammy bar and wrenched it down.
“Whammy Barrage!”
A cone of discordant sound blasted from the guitar-axe, warping the air in jagged waves. The shock of it slammed into the Golem’s head and chest, stunning it mid-step. Its rune-eyes flickered wildly, the huge body shuddering as if the sound had crawled inside its armour and started rattling every bolt loose.
Mezzo grinned through the feedback. “That’s right, big lad! Hate my solo like everyone else!”
The Golem bellowed, staggering under the blow, molten plates dripping loose from its shoulders.
With a guttural roar, it lunged at the team, its massive fists smashing into the ground and sending shockwaves through the factory floor. The group scattered, dodging debris and blasts of molten metal.
Celeste darted across the battlefield, her katanas flashing as she cut through a spray of molten shrapnel.
Then she saw him.
At the far edge of the crowd, beyond the shimmer of the mana barrier, stood the Lynx.
Still as a shadow.
Watching her.
Not cheering. Not afraid. Just watching with those impossible eyes, as if he had been waiting for this exact moment to unfold.
Celeste’s breath caught.
For half a second, the battlefield vanished.
The Golem did not.
Its heavy arm snaked through the smoke and clamped around her tail, yanking her backward with brutal force.
Celeste screamed as she was dragged off her feet.
“Celeste!” Ray shouted.
The Golem’s massive hand snapped around Celeste’s waist and ribs, lifting her high into the air. Metal fingers crushed tight, stealing the breath from her lungs.
Her katanas flashed desperately as she slashed at its grip, sparks flying from scorched steel. She twisted hard, trying to wrench herself free.
Something tugged sharply at the back of her neck.
A tiny metallic snap clicked beneath her collar.
Celeste froze.
The suppression rune at her neck had shifted.
Only slightly.
Only enough.
But enough was all it took.
Power seeped out.
Not in a clean burst. Not like spellwork. Like pressure leaking through a cracked dam.
Blue-white light crawled under her skin. Her star charms flared. The air around her warped, cold and hot at once.
Mezzo’s grin vanished.
“Oh no,” he breathed.
The Golem’s grip tightened.
Celeste’s vision blurred. Every second felt like a lifetime trapped in steel claws. Beneath the agony, beneath the panic, something fierce stirred awake.
Mezzo stepped forward, guitar lowering.
“Celeste,” he called, voice suddenly gentle. “Lass, look at me.”
Her eyes flickered toward him, bright blue bleeding through the pupils.
Mezzo swallowed but kept going, raising one hand slowly as if calming a frightened animal. “Easy now. You’re alright. We’ve got you. Just breathe for me, yeah? In and out. Like before.”
The light around her pulsed harder.
The ground trembled.
“Celeste,” Mezzo said again, softer. “Don’t let it take the wheel. You hear me? Stay with us.”
For one heartbeat, she looked like she might.
Then the Golem squeezed.
Something deep inside her snapped.
The air turned cold, then hot. The ground shuddered. Her hoodie billowed unnaturally, the tiny star charms glowing like miniature suns.
Her eyes snapped open—glowing a brilliant, pure blue.
Shatterform Celeste had awakened.
She let out a guttural, inhuman cry.
With a single flex of her body, the entire Golem arm shattered, metal melting from her aura as if scorched by starlight. The crowd gasped in horror as she rose midair, no longer walking—hovering, her aura trailing behind her like a flame-wrapped comet.
With each breath, arcane symbols burned into the floor.
She struck the fallen Golem—once, twice—until its remains were nothing but molten slag.
But she didn’t stop.
+5000 EXP
LEVEL UP!
➤ Level 6 Achieved!
Her blade became a blur of blinding arcs. Each swing cracked the air with sonic heat. Waves of fury pulsed from her like a second heartbeat, warping the metal floor beneath her boots. Stars burst from her hoodie—tiny novas of raw energy, lighting the room in bursts of white-gold.
The cheering stopped.
Cries of fear rippled through the hall.
Even Brassmane stepped back, hand instinctively finding the hilt of his bronze-forged blade, expression unreadable.
Mezzo moved closer despite the heat, one paw raised.
“Celeste,” he tried again, voice shaking now. “Lass. It’s done. You won. You don’t have to keep fighting.”
Celeste turned her glowing eyes toward him.
For a second, Mezzo saw nothing familiar there.
No shy smile. No awkward apology. No Celeste.
Just power looking for somewhere to go.
“CELESTE!” Pitch roared, vaulting forward.
He grabbed her from behind—but the moment his hands touched her, something changed. His eyes flared faintly, and a low growl slipped from his throat—deep, involuntary. For a heartbeat, his grip tightened with unnatural strength, and something animal stirred behind his mask of control.
“Lass! You need to STOP!” Hughes bellowed, jabbing his time-crook toward her—but he hesitated, afraid of what freezing her in a time bubble might actually do in this state.
Celeste spun violently—her blade swinging without thought—and slashed across Hughes’s side. He yelped and stumbled back, fur singed, wind knocked from his lungs.
“She’s not seeing us—!” Ray shouted.
Mezzo struck one soft chord.
Not an attack.
Not a blast.
Just a low, trembling note, warm and familiar beneath the chaos.
“Celeste,” he said, voice cracking. “Come back, yeah? Please. You’re scarin’ the wee ones.”
At the edge of the arena, Lumina and Skye stood frozen by the bench.
That flickered through Celeste’s eyes.
Only for a second.
But Ray saw it.
She surged forward, fire trailing from her boots. Her purple and black hair shimmered mid-sprint, burning away into streaks of golden pink and purple feathers. Two blazing wings unfurled from her back, flickering with phoenix flame.
Ray’s eyes went wide. “What the heck—she’s messing with my suppression chip! My wings… they’re—they’re coming back. I thought they were removed!”
Across the battlefield, Hughes’s voice cut through the clash of steel and flame. “It’s Celeste’s core. She must be resonating with you—pulling them back with your mana!”
Arcade skidded to a halt, sparks crackling off his gauntlets. “That’s unstable as hell! You need to knock her out, or at least keep her in place before it overloads!”
With a sharp cry, Ray spun her hammer upward and brought it crashing down—not on Celeste, but just ahead of her feet, the shockwave enough to knock her balance.
Then Ray launched herself forward, ramming into Celeste with shoulder and wing. Together with Pitch, she wrestled her down, holding tight as Celeste thrashed—screaming, sparks blazing from her skin.
“You’re okay—” Pitch hissed through clenched teeth. “You’re not in danger. You’re you.”
Mezzo dropped to his knees in front of her, ignoring the heat biting at his sleeves.
“That’s it,” he whispered, still playing that same soft chord. “There you are. Come on, lass. Come back to us.”
That was when he saw it.
The rune at the back of Celeste’s neck had slipped loose, just a fraction. Not broken. Not gone. Just shifted enough for blue-white light to leak from beneath it like steam from a cracked kettle.
Mezzo’s stomach dropped.
“Hold her steady,” he muttered.
Ray tightened her grip without question. Pitch braced his shoulder against Celeste’s arm, teeth gritted.
Mezzo reached carefully behind Celeste’s neck and pressed the rune back into place.
The effect was instant.
The wild pressure in the air softened. The burning stars around her hoodie dimmed. Celeste’s breath hitched, then shuddered, her strength draining as if someone had closed a floodgate.
But Mezzo didn’t move straight away.
His eyes flicked to Ray’s rune.
Then back to Celeste’s.
For the first time, he really noticed the difference.
Ray’s rune looked clinical. Council-made. Smooth-lined, efficient, cruel in the way all tidy things could be cruel.
Celeste’s was different.
Older.
More intricate.
The markings weren’t just etched into metal—they curled like ancient script, layered with symbols that looked half-religious, half-forgotten, as if someone had copied them from a tomb instead of a laboratory.
Not a standard suppression rune.
Not even close.
Mezzo’s paw lingered for one uneasy second.
Then he pulled back and said nothing.
Celeste’s struggles began to slow, her strength fading under the weight of their grips—and her own grief. Her breath came in ragged sobs, heat still steaming from her hoodie, but her blade fell from her hand, clattering to the scorched floor.
Her eyes dulled.
The glow faded.
The room was silent.
No one dared approach.
From the shadows, Hughes winced, clutching his side, but said nothing. His eyes were on Celeste. On all of them.
The group exchanged glances. Arcade took a knee, offering a handkerchief to Ray, whose arm was bleeding. Pitch said nothing—his shirt was scorched.
Plum stood frozen on the loading platform, gun still in her hand, her notebook forgotten at her feet.
For once, she wrote nothing.
Arcade exhaled hard, his face pale. “You… lost control. Something… came out of you.”
Celeste looked down at her hands.
They were trembling.
The crowd, now silent, watched with new eyes.
At the far edge of the gathering, the Lynx was gone.
Brassmane stepped forward slowly. His voice was firm.
“So… the elders were correct.”
And for the first time in a long time, Celeste didn’t know what to say.
