The great iron gates of the Council Quarter swung open behind them with a groan that echoed down the rain-slick streets. The moment the Knights stepped out, the sound of desperate voices crashed over them like a wave.
Hundreds of Mythics and Hybrids were pressed up against the barricades—faces gaunt, clothes torn, some holding children close, others clutching makeshift charms and rosaries. Mana flickered weakly through the crowd like fading fireflies.
“Please!” someone shouted. “They said you work for the Council—get us inside!”
“Tell them we’re loyal!” another cried. “We’ll do anything!”
Celeste raised her hands, trying to be heard over the storm. “Please—listen! The Council can’t take any more people right now, but the park by the river—it’s safe, I promise! We can protect you there, just… please, come with us!”
For a moment, hope flickered in a few faces. Then someone shouted back, bitter and broken:
“You’re one of us! What can you do? You think they’ll help us just because you ask nice?”
A murmur rippled through the crowd—resentment, exhaustion, disbelief.
Celeste’s tail drooped, ears folding low. “I’m not asking you to trust me,” she said softly, voice trembling but clear. “I’m asking you to live. If you stay here… you’ll die.”
But most turned away. Others shouted curses—not out of hatred, but out of fear.
Mezzo’s patience snapped. “Oh, for—! Idiots!” he barked, tail lashing. “You’d rather beg from the ones that left you to rot than take help from your own? Fine then! Stay out here and be Council chow—see if they send flowers!”
“Mezzo,” Hughes said sharply, but the dog’s shoulders stayed tense. The old captain turned to the crowd, voice steady but tired. “If you change your minds… you know where we are. The park’s open to anyone who wants to live, not just hope.”
No one answered. Just the sound of rain and the low hum of power armor from the guards above.
The team pushed through, the crowd parting reluctantly around them. Some spat near their boots; others looked away entirely. Celeste could feel every stare—every rejection from the people she’d sworn to protect.
When they finally broke free of the barricade line, the world changed.
The air grew colder. The hum of the Council towers faded into the hiss of wind between broken buildings.
And in the distance, something roared.
Zombies shambled in the ruins—pale, sugar-crusted shapes dragging themselves across shattered glass. From high above, a molten shadow passed over the clouds. The air shimmered orange and gold as the Molten Phoenix General circled, its eyes glowing like suns.
Topsy’s fur puffed, her tail curling into a spiral. “Ohhh, frosted fudge sticks, that’s new!” she squeaked, then tried to grin. “Maybe it’s friendly! …Yeah, no, it’s totally not friendly.”
“Not even slightly,” Ray muttered, tightening her grip on her hammer. “And it’s watching us.”
The street lights flickered—then died entirely.
Celeste stepped forward, rain dripping down her face. Her twin katanas shimmered faintly, light dancing along their edges. “We can’t count on anyone else,” she said quietly. “So… we fix this ourselves.”
No one argued.
They walked on together through the dying light, into a city that had already started to forget them—hybrids, mythics, and misfits against the dark.
And high above, the Phoenix watched… waiting for its turn to strike.
The rain slicked the cobblestones as the Knights wandered through Clawdiff’s hollow streets, the glow of their Arcbracers dimly lighting the way. Buildings loomed like ghosts, their broken windows reflecting the faint shimmer of puddles. The city that once thrummed with life now whispered only with the shuffle of their tired steps.
Hughes adjusted his cloak, glancing sidelong at Celeste. “You did the best you could, Commander. We walked out of there alive. That’s more than most can say.”
Celeste let out a soft, awkward laugh. “A-alive, yes, but—um—now we’ve got to stay together as Knights, haven’t we? I suppose I thought it’d feel a little… less impossible.”
Ray smirked faintly. “What expectations? To die?”
Celeste puffed her cheeks. “No! I just thought… maybe things would go back to normal somehow. I hoped the Council had a plan to deal with all this.” She kicked at a loose tile. “I didn’t realise we were the plan.”
Stars shimmered faintly in the puddles at her feet. She swallowed hard. “I feel so underprepared. I’m not a commander, not really. Why didn’t she pick you, Hughes? Or Pitch? You’re older, experienced. I’m just… a nerd with bad eyesight and worse coordination. I can’t do this.”
Mezzo slung an arm around Celeste’s shoulders. “Ah, stop whinin’, lass. We’re all in the same boat, and you’ve been grand so far. Not dead yet, right? That’s a good record!”
Ray snorted. “Yeah. We needed you to survive anyway. Now it’s just official.”
Arcade, hands shoved into his pockets, muttered, “Besides, failure’s still an option. We get to die trying. How inspiring.”
Celeste groaned softly. “No pressure, then…”
Skye walked beside her, tail brushing her leg. “Just do your best, Commander. That’s enough.”
Topsy hopped onto a chunk of rubble, throwing her arms out dramatically. “Oh, please! You’ve got sparkle, Celly! You’ve got heart! You’re like—boom! Commander energy!”
Ray snorted. “You’re like a squirrel-shaped motivational poster.”
Topsy grinned, unfazed. “Exactly! And every poster needs glitter!”
Despite herself, Celeste smiled—small, fragile, but real. “Thanks, Topsy. I’ll… try to remember that.”
Hughes gave a low chuckle. “She’s right, you know. Glitter or not, you’re the one we followed. Don’t go doubting it now.”
Celeste’s eyes softened. “I’ll… do my best, then. Promise.”
Lumina tugged gently on Celeste’s sleeve as the group passed under the dripping awnings of an abandoned café. Her voice was small, almost lost beneath the sound of the rain.
“Mhm Celeste… I was scared,” she admitted. “When we were in the council building… I thought they were going to send me away. Or… lock you up.”
Celeste stopped, the light from her Arcbracer painting soft gold over Lumina’s worried face. She crouched, placing a paw gently on the girl’s shoulder.
“You were very brave, love. I’m so proud of you.”
Lumina’s ears perked up, her tail swishing once. “I just… did my best. Skye helped too.”
Skye smiled faintly from behind his hair. “Yeah. I was a little scared, though.”
Celeste brushed a lock of hair from Lumina’s cheek. “We all were, sweetheart. But you both did so well.”
The moment might’ve stayed tender—if not for the sound of Topsy blowing a party horn made from a broken paper cup and duct tape.
“NO MORE SAD! PARTY TIME!” she yelled, hurling a handful of glittery candy wrappers into the air like confetti.
Celeste blinked as one stuck to her forehead. “Topsy—?”
Before she could finish, Mezzo jumped in, dramatically twirling an old broom like a microphone.
“Ladies and gentlefolk!” he announced, “I give you—Commander Celeste and her faithful glitter grenadier, Topsy the Terrible!”
Topsy struck a pose. “Our friendship level has reached maximum sparkle!”
Ray groaned, “Stars above, not again.”
Even Hughes cracked a small smile, muttering under his breath, “You lot are hopeless.”
But Celeste laughed—a real, unguarded laugh that warmed the night for a moment. She brushed the glitter from her fur and smiled softly at Lumina.
“See? Everything’s going to be alright.”
Ahead, the fog parted—and there it was. The Egg Tree in Beauty Park, its enormous glowing shell humming gently in the dark. Warm light spilled through the cracks in its barklike surface, casting golden halos across the rain-soaked grass.
Carys and the others stood waiting beneath it—Plum clutching her notebook, Bonbon perched on her shoulder, and Bracer leaning against the half-finished radio tower. As the Knights approached, tired but still standing, the light of the Egg Tree pulsed softly—like a heartbeat welcoming them home.
Bonbon came sprinting down the muddy path, her little paws kicking up droplets of dew and candy dust.
“Cece!” she squeaked, tail fluffed up like a dandelion. She launched herself forward, wrapping around Celeste’s legs with a squeal of delight.
Celeste bent down, smiling softly as she brushed a paw over Bonbon’s ears. “I missed you too, sweetpea.”
Behind her, Plum, Carys, and Bracer hurried out from under the canopy of the glowing Egg Tree, the faint pulse of its mana lighting their faces in warm gold.
Carys hurried over, elegant even with mud on her boots. “Thank goodness, darling—you’re safe!” She pulled Celeste into a quick, tight hug before straightening her fur. “You’ve no idea how tense it’s been since you left.”
Bracer’s laugh boomed as he punched Mezzo’s arm. “Boy, I knew that mouth of yours would save your hide one day!”
Mezzo rubbed his arm with a wince. “Oi! It wasn’t the mouth this time—it was Celeste’s fault. Mostly.”
Celeste stuck out her tongue. “Excuse me—partially.”
Hughes stepped up, crook resting on his shoulder, tone curious. “So what exactly happened after we left for the powerplant? The guards were jumpy when we came back through.”
Plum pushed her headband up, tail flicking. “They actually let us go. Called it a warning. But once word spread you lot were officially made Knights, they backed off. The Council signed the park over as an official holding.”
Celeste looked up at the glowing Egg Tree, its petals gleaming in the moonlight. “Then I suppose we’d better finish that radio tomorrow,” she murmured. “If this is really our base now, we should act like it.”
Plum nodded, relieved. “Yes, please. The forecast says a heatwave’s coming, and I’d rather not see how candy soil handles melting point.”
Bracer folded his arms, giving Arcade a look. “So what did happen, anyway? You lot look like you’ve been dragged through a blender.”
Arcade sighed dramatically, brushing dust off his jacket. Oh, you know—the usual. Zombie army, self-awakening mana well, learning the Council powers its cities with prisoners’ mana. Sprinkle in betrayal for flavour. Delightful, really.”
Bracer blinked. “Yup. Sounds exactly like you.”
Then he noticed the unfamiliar face standing cheerfully between Ray and Skye—red curls, glitter on her hoodie, and an energy that felt like she’d just escaped a firework factory. “And who’s this little chaos engine?”
Before anyone could answer, Topsy threw her hands in the air, confetti practically materializing out of thin air. “Hi! I’m Topsy Taradiddle! Artist! Crafter! Reformed jailbird—well, technically—and current professional bundle of chaos! I make explosions and plushies!”
There was a long pause.
Then Plum smiled brightly. “I like her.”
Mezzo groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Stars help us, there’s two of them now.”
Celeste grinned, looping an arm around Topsy’s shoulder. “Told you she’d fit right in.”
And under the great glowing branches of the Egg Tree, laughter finally cut through the city’s distant howls—for the first time in a long time, it almost felt like home again.
