For the first few streets, the walk back almost felt fun.
Almost.
The city glittered around them, brighter than any of them had ever seen it, and the restored pylons painted everything in wild blue light. It made the puddles shine, the broken windows sparkle, and the candy-crusted wreckage look almost pretty if no one looked too closely.
Topsy, naturally, decided this meant they were superheroes now.
“I’m just saying,” she declared, skipping backward in front of them, “if we’re glowing, saving people, and running around with dramatic weapons, we need names.”
Mezzo perked up at once. “Oh, obviously. I’m thinking Thunder Strings. No — Axe Appeal.”
Ray groaned. “Absolutely not.”
Celeste pressed a paw to her mouth, trying not to laugh. “What about… Sparkle Knight?”
Pitch glanced at her. “For you? Too honest.”
Lumina hugged Celeste’s arm, smiling shyly. “Maybe Celeste could be Star Bunny Dragon Princess.”
Celeste went pink. “That’s a bit long.”
“Not long enough,” Topsy said solemnly. “Needs more glitter.”
Skye, walking close beside Lumina, tilted her head. “I could be The Card Whisper. Or Small Doom.”
Arcade looked over sharply. “Small Doom is alarmingly accurate.”
CHIP beeped from beside him. “Recommendation: register name before Council copyright enforcement resumes.”
Mezzo swept one arm dramatically across his chest. “And together, we are… the Slightly Traumatized League!”
Celeste burst into giggles.
Even Ray’s mouth twitched.
Then the laughter faded.
Because ahead of them, the streets were no longer empty.
The closer they came to the Council Cathedral, the more people appeared. At first only a few figures hurrying through alleys, then whole clusters of refugees pressed against walls and shopfronts. Hybrids. Mythics. Purebloods with nowhere else to go. Families wrapped in torn coats. Children covered in dust and candy residue. Wounded people being carried between strangers.
Ray slowed, eyes narrowing. “How come we didn’t see them before?”
Hughes leaned on his crook, gaze grim. “We were flown over them when they brought us here. Then flown again when they took us to the power plant. Hard to see suffering from above when someone’s sealed you in a Council van.”
Ray’s expression darkened.
The streets around the Council Cathedral were chaos.
Floodlights bathed the plaza in cold, sterile light, and the air reeked of ozone and sugar rot.
Hundreds of refugees — Hybrids, Mythics, even some desperate Purebloods — crowded the marble steps, shouting over one another for entry.
Children clung to parents. Old soldiers beat their fists against the doors.
And above them, Council Guards in hulking arcsteel power suits stood shoulder-to-shoulder, blocking the entrance like an iron wall.
“We are dying out here!” a fox hybrid screamed, holding a wounded mythic boy in her arms.
“Please, the zombies are in the tunnels!” another cried.
The guards didn’t budge. Their visors gleamed like glass coffins.
Celeste’s heart ached at the sight. “Stars… it’s worse than before.”
Before she could move, a shriek echoed from the far end of the plaza—
a group of zombies shambled out from the alleyways, drawn by the noise.
The crowd screamed, scattering.
Celeste didn’t hesitate.
“Knights—now!”
In an instant, her team moved.
Ray slammed her hammer into the ground, sending out a wave of phoenix fire that scattered the first wave of undead.
Mezzo’s guitar-axe lit up with sparks as he vaulted onto a kiosk and strummed a shockwave that blasted three zombies clean off their feet.
Pitch shadow-jumped through the chaos, gunning down anything that got too close to the civilians.
Skye summoned a glowing barrier of cards that shimmered around the wounded.
Topsy was already tossing “homemade explosives” that, judging by the rainbow smoke, were definitely not approved by any sane person.
“Rainbow kaboom!” she squeaked. Boom! “See?! Art with attitude!”
Arcade and Chip darted through the melee, firing mana bolts while the little robot shouted, “Combat effectiveness: seventy-five percent! Pride effectiveness: infinite!”
Celeste spun through the center of it all—twin katanas blazing, her aura flaring like starlight.
With Lumina at her side deflecting blows, they pushed the last of the zombies back into the street.
Silence fell, save for the crowd’s trembling gasps.
A voice boomed from the power-suited guards.
“HOLD YOUR FIRE!”
The lead soldier stepped forward, scanning them with a golden visor. His voice was deep, filtered through a metallic speaker.
“…That can’t be right,” he muttered. “You’re supposed to be dead. Reports said the Knights of Clawdiff were killed in the power plant.”
Mezzo flipped his guitar onto his shoulder, grinning. “Yeah, that was greatly exaggerated, mate.”
Topsy waved her paw dramatically. “See? Fully alive! And sparkly!”
The guard hesitated, then lowered his weapon slightly. “You’d better come with me. The Council will want to see you immediately.”
Arcade crossed his arms. “You sure about that? Last time we saw them, they threatened us with hanging.”
The soldier’s visor glinted. “If what I just saw is true—then this is above my clearance level. Come. Now.”
Behind them, the crowd surged forward again—pleading, desperate, trying to follow.
“Please, take us with you!”
“Don’t let them shut the gates again!”
A hybrid child clung to Celeste’s sleeve. “You’re the sparkle lady, right? You can make them listen?”
Celeste’s chest tightened. She knelt, gently placing her paw on the child’s shoulder.
“I’ll try,” she promised softly. “We’ll all try.”
Hughes looked at the sea of faces—fear, hunger, and hope mingled together—and nodded grimly.
“We’ll do what we can,” he said, raising his voice so they could all hear. “We’ll speak for you in there, aye? That’s a promise.”
The crowd cheered faintly, clinging to that shred of light as the great steel gates began to open.
The guards herded the Knights forward.
Topsy dragged her feet, clutching her bag like it contained her last shred of freedom.
“Oh, I really don’t wanna go in there again,” she whined. “Last time I saw those shiny helmets, I ended up in jail!”
Arcade gave her a nudge forward. “Then consider this community service.”
“Ugh! Community service with extra trauma!” she groaned dramatically, tail puffed as she was pushed through the doors.
And so, under the watchful eyes of the towering power suits, the Knights of Clawdiff stepped once more into the Council Cathedral—
their collars gone, but their fates no less bound.
The Council Chamber was a warzone of words.
The moment the Knights stepped in, they were met with the deafening roar of all three Council Rings shouting over one another. Robes flashed, mana quills scribbled mid-air, and holographic sigils flared across the chamber as heated debates tangled into chaos.
“—the mythics must be contained—!”
“—hybrid instability is spreading!—”
“—our soldiers have families!—”
“—Lady Umbranox’s faith in the militia experiment was—”
“—a disaster waiting to happen!—”
Amid it all, at the base of the dais, Commander Backfire—the hulking bear in heavy armor—stood stiffly before Lady Umbranox’s throne. His polished medals gleamed under the light, his tone perfectly rehearsed.
“My Lady, I regret to inform you that the Knights of Clawdiff perished in service,” he began solemnly. “They fought valiantly, but alas, the mission was too great. My team, however, succeeded where they could not. We restored the power plant and purged the infestation in your name.”
The chamber murmured with approval. Umbranox didn’t react.
She lounged on her throne, chin resting on her clawed fingers, golden eyes half-lidded in polite boredom.
“Oh really, Captain Backfire…” she purred softly, her tone like honey poured over a knife’s edge. “…So why, pray tell, do ghosts roam my halls?”
The bear blinked, confused—until a familiar, awkward voice piped up from the back.
“Um… hi!”
Every head turned.
There, dripping from the rain, hair in disarray, Celeste stumbled into the chamber with a little wave.
Behind her stood the rest of the Knights—muddy, exhausted, but very much alive.
A stunned silence hung over the council like a blade.
Commander Backfire’s eyes went wide, his jaw working soundlessly.
“That’s… that’s not possible!” he growled, fur bristling.
And then—
POP!
A burst of rainbow confetti exploded beside Celeste, showering the council floor.
“Surprise~!” Topsy yelled at the top of her lungs, spinning in a shower of sparkles. “Guess who’s not dead! You can’t keep us down, baby!”
Mezzo choked on laughter; Arcade slapped a paw over his own mouth to stifle it.
Even Lady Umbranox’s tail gave the smallest twitch of amusement.
Commander Backfire slowly turned toward Topsy, his expression somewhere between murderous and terrified.
“My Lady,” he stammered, “they must have been—been hiding! Cowards! They abandoned their mission!”
Umbranox’s lips curved into that dangerous smile.
“Of course they did,” she said smoothly. “And you, of course, single-handedly saved the power plant. Isn’t that right, Captain?”
The bear puffed up proudly. “Yes, my Lady.”
“Mm,” Umbranox hummed, rising slowly from her seat, the sound of her heels clicking like clockwork between heartbeats. “Then you must also be responsible for releasing all the prisoners, yes?”
Backfire froze mid-breath.
Her golden gaze pinned him like a spear.
“Well done, Captain,” she continued in an icy purr. “Now hardened killers and dissenters are prowling the streets. You couldn’t have failed harder if you tried.”
The bear’s fur puffed in panic. “M-my Lady, I would never—!”
“Did you,” she interrupted softly, “or did you not fix the power plant, as you so proudly claimed?”
Backfire’s mouth opened, then closed.
The council chamber went dead silent.
“You wouldn’t lie to the Matron of Sight,” Umbranox said sweetly, “would you?”
Backfire’s ears flattened. His armor suddenly looked two sizes too small. “N-no, my Lady…”
From the back of the chamber, Arcade and Mezzo were beaming, trying—and failing—to hold back laughter.
“Should we, um… help?” Celeste whispered nervously.
Before she could say more, Pitch clamped a paw over her mouth. “No. No, boss. For once, let karma do its thing.”
Ray crossed her arms, watching the bear squirm. “Celeste, for the love of the stars—don’t help.”
Celeste nodded quickly, eyes wide, and mimed zipping her lips shut.
On the dais, Umbranox finally turned from the trembling bear to the bedraggled Knights and smiled like a queen welcoming her unruly children.
“Ah. The prodigal militia returns.”
Then, softly—dangerously—
“Do come in, Knights of Clawdiff. You’ve caused quite the stir.”
