The chamber beneath the old Clawdiff Power Plant looked less like a machine room and more like a buried temple that had been forced to wear industrial skin.

Iron walkways crossed over black water channels. Broken pylons jutted from the floor like dead trees, their tips still faintly blue with dying mana. Thick cables hung from the ceiling in tangled loops, some slick with melted candy residue, others carved with runes so old the symbols seemed to shift when looked at too long.

At the centre of it all, half-hidden beneath plates of reinforced metal and rune-bound clamps, something ancient waited.

The machinery had been built around it.

Over it.

Against it.

As though someone had tried to bury a heart inside an engine and pretend it was only another power source.

Hughes stepped up to the power conduit controls, tapping his crook against the dusty panel. “Alright, let’s see if we can make this old beast purr again,” he muttered.

Arcade crouched beside him, Chip floating down with a cheerful beep-bloop. “I can probably reroute the conduit to access the leyline directly,” Arcade said, fingers flying across the interface. “But…” He frowned, tilting his head. “It’s not as strong as it should be. The flow’s unstable—like someone’s siphoning the line upstream.”

Mezzo leaned against the railing, spinning his guitar pick between his fingers. “Well, maybe the boss here should just sprinkle a bit of that alicorn mojo on it, eh?”

Celeste blinked, caught off guard. “What? No—I don’t think that’s how it works…”

Topsy popped up between them, her tail puffing like cotton candy. “Wait—you’re all hybrids? Stars above, no wonder you’re so sparkly! You’re my kind of people!”

Celeste giggled nervously. “Yeah, well… apparently, I’ve got a bit of a mixture going on.”

Topsy pointed at herself proudly. “Half squirrel, half jackalope! All chaos! And you—half alicorn? Pfft, alicorns can fix anything!”

Hughes turned, brow furrowed. “Aye, and they can also burn themselves out. Don’t touch that conduit, lass. Too much mana’ll cook you from the inside out.”

Celeste nodded, stepping back. “Understood. No touching. Promise.”

Topsy tilted her head. “Boring… but fair.”

After a few tense minutes of tinkering, the lights flickered back to life. The hum of the machinery steadied into a rhythmic pulse, not perfect—but alive again.

“Well,” Arcade said, brushing his hands off, “it’s functional. I’ll take it.”

Mezzo cracked his neck. “Functional’s my favorite word.”

But before anyone could celebrate, Celeste’s eyes caught something at the center of the chamber—a structure partially buried beneath layers of metal plating and rune-carved restraints.

It looked like a well.

Ancient. Beautiful. Wrongly out of place.

Mezzo whistled. “That’s a weird sight to see. What is it, some kinda decoration?”

Hughes stepped closer, squinting. “No… that’s a mana well. I’ve read about ‘em in old council archives, but I never thought I’d see one up close.”

Arcade’s ears flicked. “That would explain the leyline. It’s probably feeding through this thing—like a natural battery. That’s why the current was acting weird.”

Celeste’s fur prickled. She felt it before anyone else did—the hum, soft and low, like a heartbeat calling through stone. Her chest tightened as her core began to thrum in answer.

Pitch noticed immediately, stepping forward. “Boss? You okay?”

Celeste’s voice came quiet and strained. “Not… really. I feel a pull. Like it’s calling to me.”

Lumina looked toward the well, then down at her own hands, confused. Her bracer stayed dim.

“I don’t,” she murmured.

Celeste glanced at her. “You don’t feel anything?”

Lumina shook her head slowly, ears lowering. “No. That’s what’s weird.”

The others exchanged uneasy looks as the runes on the well faintly glowed—pale blue light bleeding across the metal like veins awakening.

Topsy whispered, her eyes wide, “Um… is it supposed to do that?”

Hughes gripped his crook. “No. It’s not.”

And from deep within the well, something stirred.

The group moved past the mana well carefully, their footsteps echoing through the chamber. The air was heavy, still humming faintly with energy. Celeste slowed, glancing back as a soft whirr of light caught her eye.

Tiny orbs—glowing like bubbles of moonlight—floated from the well’s surface and drifted lazily toward her. They circled her chest, pulsing gently in rhythm with her core.

Celeste’s breath caught. “Do you see that?”

Hughes immediately lifted his crook. “Don’t touch it. Stars above, just—don’t touch anything. If the Council sealed this place off, there’s a reason.”

Celeste nodded nervously. “Agreed. No touching.”

But her ears twitched, her eyes softening as more orbs rose. “It feels… familiar. Like it’s calling to me.”

Arcade scoffed from behind a console. “It’s a well, not a pen pal. Ignore the sparkles—it can’t do much.”

Mezzo, naturally, ignored that advice and leaned over the edge. “Pretty though, innit?” he said, grinning. “Looks like a pool of dreams or somethin’.”

Celeste stepped beside him, curiosity overcoming caution. When she peered inside, her breath left her completely.

It wasn’t just water.
It was like staring into a twilight dream—impossible colors folding into one another, oil and starlight rippling together. The blue and white glow shimmered in patterns that felt alive.

Mezzo nudged her shoulder lightly. “Uh, Cece… your chest is doing that glowy thing again.”

Celeste looked down.

Her core was pulsing in perfect time with the ripples of the well.

Lumina stood behind her, staring at the light with a small frown. No glow answered from her chest. No pull softened her face. Nothing reached for her.

“That’s not fair,” Lumina whispered, not jealous — frightened. “Why is it only calling you?”

Celeste didn’t answer.

Because suddenly there was a voice inside her.

Not in her ears.

Not in the room.

From her core.

Soft as a lullaby.

Ancient as grief.

A woman’s voice hummed in Welsh, warm and aching.

“Ar ôl yr holl amser hwn… dyna ti, yn dal yma.”

After all this time… there you are, still here.

Celeste gasped.

Her hand flew to her chest.

The ache that bloomed there was not pain exactly. It was deeper than that. Older. Tender in a way that terrified her. Like a mother reaching through a locked door. Like arms she had never known remembering how to hold her.

Her eyes began to glow.

Blue-white light spilled through her lashes.

The well answered.

Its surface rose in trembling ripples.

Celeste reached toward it.

Lumina’s eyes widened. “Celeste?”

Celeste didn’t seem to hear.

Her fingers stretched closer to the light.

“Celeste, stop.”

Lumina rushed forward and grabbed her wrist with both hands, pulling hard.

“Don’t touch it! Please!”

Celeste blinked once, dazed, as if waking underwater.

“I…” Her voice trembled. “I think it knows me.”

“That’s exactly why you shouldn’t touch it!” Lumina cried.

For one fragile second, Celeste hesitated.

Then the well flared.

Light surged up toward her hand.

Lumina tried to pull her back—

and their joined hands brushed the edge.

BOOM.

The well did not merely erupt.

It reached.

Mana surged upward in a twisting pillar of blue-white brilliance and struck Celeste square in the chest. For one awful, wondrous instant it looked almost alive—as if the light itself had found her core beneath skin and bone, latched onto it, and locked in place.

Celeste gasped.

Her back arched.

Then her whole body lit up.

Not just her chest this time.

All of her.

She blazed from the inside out like the moment her rune had first revealed itself, only stronger—too strong—every line of her body outlined in radiant blue-white fire. Her feet lifted from the ground. Chains of light spiralled around her limbs as she floated above the well, head tipped back, hair and fur lifting in the storm of mana pouring through her.

The entire chamber answered.

Every dormant light in the power plant snapped on at once.

Panels flashed.

Screens screamed awake.

Conduits glowed.

Pipes throbbed with energy.

The place lit up like a Christmas tree possessed by a god.

Arcade staggered back as the readouts on the console surged so high they clipped through their limits. “No, no, no—that’s impossible—”

Across the chamber, the storage pipes groaned and then erupted to capacity, flooded with mana so bright it turned the reinforced tubing into rivers of living sapphire.

Outside, through a shattered observation slit, Arcade caught sight of the skyline.

The barriers around Clawdiff were rising.

One after another.

District domes.

Shelter wards.

Emergency defence screens.

The weakest parts of the city lit first—safe zones, hospital sectors, lower housing blocks, evacuation districts—great shimmering walls of blue force blooming across the night.

Arcade stared, breathless. “She’s powering the city.”

The shock of light was so intense the others threw up their arms, blinded.

Topsy shrieked with delight.

Ray swore.

Mezzo nearly tripped over a broken conduit.

Lumina’s eyes flashed open—

glowing pink.

Not the same blue-white as Celeste.

Something softer. Stranger. Opposing.

Hughes saw it and went still.

Then his expression changed.

Understanding.

“Stars above,” he breathed. “Lumina’s her off switch.”

He reached for Lumina at once, guiding her by the shoulders toward the floating girl. “Come on, lass. Stay with me.”

But Arcade spun on him. “Don’t!”

Hughes froze.

Arcade jabbed a shaking finger at the surging display. “If she keeps going, she’ll power all of Clawdiff’s defence systems! The barriers are already up. It’ll buy the city more time to stop the zombies.”

Ray whirled on him, hammer sparking. “Or she’ll bloody explode and take us with her! Hughes, turn it off!”

Topsy, shielding her eyes badly and clearly having the time of her life, bounced on her heels. “Is this normal? Please say yes. Please say this is a thing she does.”

Mezzo stared up at Celeste’s blazing body, face washed ghost-pale in the light. “In short? No. No, it flaming well is not.”

Skye clutched her head, crouched low, ears flat. Her voice came small and strained, almost hidden in the roar. “It’s too loud. I can’t think. The singing is all tangled.”

The comms crystal at Hughes’ belt crackled wildly.

A voice punched through the static in fragments.

“—going on down there—”

Umbranox.

“—report immediately—”

The channel shrieked and cut.

Arcade grabbed at his own comm, furiously trying to stabilise the signal. “Arcade Davies requesting immediate backup at the power plant! Repeat, we need—”

Nothing.

Only static.

No answer.

The light around Celeste shifted.

The blue-white blaze sharpened into structure.

All around her core, suspended in the air like a spinning halo, bardic runes began to appear—layer upon layer of glowing script rotating in precise circles. They did not look random or mystical anymore.

They looked like an interface.

A system.

Ancient text moving with the logic of machinery.

Arcade’s glasses reflected the runes as his jaw dropped.

“What the hell are you, Celeste?”

CHIP hovered upward, scanning frantically. “Analysis: Celeste is interfacing with the mana relay network. Additional note: connection appears to include the Three Rivers.”

Hughes, still holding Lumina, stared at the machine in disbelief. Under the stress, bark crept across his arms and throat in flickers, leaves and thorn-vines ghosting in and out over his skin as his Leshy traits surged.

He shot CHIP a wild look. “Does that tin can mean the Three Rivers of Mana? That’s a bloody Crefft myth!”

CHIP beeped once. “Correction: apparently not.”

The runes spun faster.

The air itself vibrated.

CHIP continued, voice brisk and almost cheerful. “Connection sequence nearing completion. In approximately ten minutes, conduit access will be fully established, granting remote leyline interface capability to the regional city grid.”

Arcade nodded too fast. “Good. Fine. Clawdiff has more than enough need for that, so—”

“Correction,” said CHIP. “Not this city.”

Arcade went still.

CHIP’s little display flashed.

“The old one under Clawdiff.”

Silence hit them harder than the noise had.

Even Ray faltered.

Pitch’s ears flattened. “What?”

Celeste floated in the centre of the chamber like a puppet held up by godlight. Her face had gone still—too still. Her eyes shone blank and ancient.

Then her mouth moved.

But the voice that came out was not hers.

It spoke in Bardic, each syllable resonant and clear as struck crystal:

“Establish mainland mana distribution. Update cartographic channels. Grant House Sylvarion full control authority.”

The runes flashed in response.

CHIP gave a delighted trill. “We are about to gain access to Kymara infrastructure. How exciting.”

Arcade looked downright wounded and awestruck all at once, like he’d just found the greatest discovery of his life at the worst possible moment.

Pitch snapped toward Hughes. “Turn it off.”

Arcade rounded on him. “Are you insane? This is a chance in a lifetime!”

Pitch bared his teeth. “And if the Council gets this, it won’t end well for anyone. We can figure it out later. Right now—shut it down.”

Ray jabbed a finger toward Celeste. “Hughes!”

Hughes’ jaw tightened.

Then he made the choice.

He let go of Lumina.

For half a second she looked startled—

then she ran.

Straight through the wash of blue-white light.

“Celeste!”

She threw both arms around Celeste’s waist.

The moment she touched her, the Bardic runes shuddered.

The voice using Celeste’s mouth broke mid-command and turned soft—frantic, protective, almost pleading.

In Bardic, it said:

“No—hold on. Stay with me. I’ve almost freed you.”

Then everything snapped.

The light burst outward once—

and died.

Celeste dropped.

Lumina went down with her, clinging tight as they hit the floor in a tangle.

The wild power vanished from the chamber. The pipes stopped screaming. The lights dimmed from blinding to merely bright. The barriers beyond the city held, but the surge itself was over.

Only the well remained.

Glowing stronger than ever.

Steady.

Awake.

And watching.