Celeste drifted in a restless sleep, curled within a marshmallow bed that gave beneath her like squishy fabric. It didn’t cling or stick—just shifted and settled, cradling her weight in gentle folds. Lumina and little Bonbon lay tucked against her, their soft breaths rising and falling in unison, warmth pressing close.

In the hazy fog of her dreams, she stood in a sea of swirling mist, soft stars twinkling above a glassy surface that reflected nothing.

From within the haze, a figure emerged—elegant, radiant, almost divine. A tall woman, an alicorn, with wings like flowing silk and a shimmering gem that glowed faintly with moonlight. Long rabbit-like ears rose from her head, graceful and strange, making her seem even less mortal. Her white hair shimmered with a soft iridescence, trailing behind her like clouds at dusk.

Celeste couldn’t see her face clearly.

No matter how hard she tried, it was blurred by the mist, as though the dream itself refused to let her look directly at her.

But the woman’s voice carried clearly enough.

Urgent. Pleading.

“There isn’t much time,” she said, stepping closer through the silver fog. “You must not let her take you, little storm.”

Celeste stared, her pulse quickening. “What do you mean? That sounds very bad.”

The alicorn reached toward her—

And all at once, the stars above them began to go out.

One by one.

Then all together.

The soft heavens blinked into blackness until only an endless, lightless sky hung over the dream-sea. Something shifted beneath the mist. Inky shadows spilled across the glassy ground and began to coil around Celeste’s legs, cold and alive, winding higher and higher.

She gasped, trying to pull free.

The shadows tightened.

Then her chest glowed.

A bright pulse of light burst from her sternum, blue-white and fierce, pushing the darkness back in a rippling wave. The shadows recoiled with a hiss, peeling away from her skin like smoke burned off by flame.

She stumbled backward—

Celeste jolted awake with a sharp gasp, heart pounding in her chest. Her glasses were still clenched in one hand, and morning light filtered softly through the candy-glass ceiling of her chosen room. The glittering rainbow walls offered no comfort—too bright, too alien.

Sweat clung to her neck as she sat up, rubbing her eyes. She had barely slept. And yet… that woman in her dream felt familiar. Important. Like she knew Celeste. Like Celeste was supposed to remember something.

But she couldn’t.

Shaking the image from her mind, Celeste stood and adjusted her glasses, blinking as the pastel brilliance of the room came into focus. Four sugar-glass columns stood in the corners, and the shimmering tiles of the rainbow window scattered light across the floor like confetti.

Suddenly panic set in—Bonbon and Lumina were nowhere to be seen.

Celeste scrambled to her feet, her heart hammering in her chest as she pushed open the glittering sugar-glass door. Her boots echoed faintly on the polished, hard candy floor as she darted into the hallway, her hair still slightly messy from the unrestful night.

Celeste slowed her pace and turned the corner. The light from the hallway filtered through in soft gradients—pale pinks and blues glowing from candy crystal sconces—and at the far end, she heard laughter. Not panicked, not distressed—just light, playful noise.

She stopped to find Lumina and Bonbon giggling as they chased bouncing jelly creatures around the lollipop table. The others were nearby—Arcade sipping coffee, CHIP humming as it downloaded files, Skye was perched quietly by the window, petting what looked like a stray marshmallow critter, Mezzo attempting circus tricks with gumballs.

A wave of relief crashed over Celeste as she smiled, letting out a shaky breath. They were safe. For now.

Arcade sat on one of the wide licorice benches with a mug of something steaming—somehow coffee still existed. CHIP hovered nearby, projecting a crude 3D map of the city and marking points of interest in glowing candy-colored dots.

Celeste exhaled, relief softening her features as she stepped inside. “Oh, stars above—you two nearly stopped my heart. Well, not stopped it exactly, because I’m still here and talking, but you frightened me an awful lot. Please don’t run off like that again, alright?”

Lumina blinked up at her with wide eyes. “We just wanted to see if the fridge made more strawberries!” She lifted a paw proudly. “It did!”

Bonbon beamed, babbling through a yawn. “A mwydod… dawnsio!”

Mezzo gave a sloppy salute from the counter, three gumballs precariously balanced on his nose. “They woke the whole bloody base chasing fruit. Chaos at sunrise. Classic.”

Celeste adjusted her glasses, glancing toward Arcade’s glowing display. “Um… those coordinates from last night. Were they any use? Or were they dreadful and full of zombies and generally not worth the trouble?”

Arcade’s expression flattened immediately. “No. That whole sector is filled with zombies. Not worth losing our lives chasing a lead some weirdo gave to you.”

Celeste nodded at once, shoulders sinking a little. “Right. Yes. Fair enough. Awful, but fair.”

She hesitated, then looked toward Ray.

“Um… are you alright? You don’t have to say yes if you aren’t.”

Ray paused.

Actually paused.

Her jaw tightened around the lollipop stick, and for a second she looked like she might brush the question off with a sneer. But then she glanced away, thinking about it longer than anyone expected.

“…No,” she said at last, quiet and blunt. Then, with a faint twitch of her shoulders, she added, “But thanks for asking.”

The room went quiet for a beat.

Then Celeste cleared her throat. “So… what do we do now? Find the Council, or the mythics, or something else equally terrible and inconvenient?”

Mezzo flopped dramatically against the counter and pointed both paws outward like the answer was obvious. “Leave Clawdiff, princess.”

Arcade shook his head. “No. We get as far as we can to the barrier and break through it with Ray’s hammer.”

Ray raised a brow. “Nice of you to volunteer my property.”

Celeste glanced toward the window. “Couldn’t we ask the dragon for a rocket launcher? I know that sounds silly, but she is awfully large, and large things do sometimes seem helpful.”

Arcade deadpanned, “I tried. Dragon mum says no.”

Outside, the white dragon lifted her head and looked unmistakably, deeply mock-offended.

Bonbon pointed at her through the glass. “Marzipan!”

Lumina’s whole face lit up. “Yeah! We should call her Marzipan!”

Celeste smiled despite herself, then winced. “Oh, we can’t keep her. Dad would have a fit, and his fits are never small. Also… we’ll be leaving today, so it wouldn’t be kind.”

Lumina’s lip wobbled instantly.

Celeste hurried on, gentler now. “Besides, dragons are people. Very important people, really. Even if this one does look a tiny bit pet-shaped.”

The white dragon turned her head slowly and gave Celeste a look so pointed it practically said, are you serious? I am not a pet.

Mezzo snorted.

Arcade, meanwhile, tapped a few more things across his screen. “Oh—by the way, I found some Astallan files. I sent them to your comms crystal.”

Celeste blinked. “Oh. Oh, thank you. That was very kind.”

Arcade gave a tiny shrug without looking up. “Don’t mention it.”

C.H.I.P. floated past and added, in a tone thick with sarcasm, “Her data has been very carefully altered, but yes, technically it is there.”

Celeste frowned. “What does he mean by altered? Altered how? Because that sounds very ominous, and I don’t care for ominous.”

C.H.I.P.’s antenna spun. “Well, for one thing, you are clearly older than ten, and your profile picture looks different on your ID. Also, the profile was only activated a year ago. Which is not suspicious at all.”

Celeste’s stomach dropped.

She fumbled for her comms crystal and opened the file.

Sure enough, the image staring back at her looked almost like her—but not quite. The face was younger. The expression flatter. And the eyes—

Her eyes were yellow.

Celeste went very still.

Lumina edged closer. “Are mine there?”

Arcade checked his screen, brows knitting together. “You’ve got the same one. It’s weird. I think it’s hacked.” He glanced up, suddenly more serious. “You might want to keep that on the low. The Council, if it ever comes back, will be absolutely furious about it.”

That sobered the whole room.

Outside, Marzipan gave one last chirrup, spread her vast pastel wings, and launched herself into the sky.

Ray watched her go.

Then, after a moment, she pushed off from the wall and followed without a word.

Celeste didn’t even notice.

She was still staring down at the Astallan files on her comms crystal, face pale in the glow of the screen.

Celeste pressed her hands together. “Right then. After breakfast… we try the barrier. Assuming breakfast doesn’t try us first.”

Ray groaned, throwing her head back. “Brilliant. I’ll write my will in gummy bears.”

Mezzo hurled a gumball at her. “Make sure to leave me your boots in it!”

Bonbon began humming a soft morning tune, her little voice wobbling but sweet. Lumina joined in, shy at first, then steadier—her soft hum carrying like a thread of light.

And for a heartbeat, in that broken candy city, it almost felt like a normal morning.

Bonbon toddled up to Celeste, tugging gently on her skirt. Her big eyes looked up, and in a quiet, tired voice she asked softly in Welsh:

“Ga i fynd adre?”

Celeste blinked. “Wait—what? I’m sorry, I don’t know what that means. Or—well, I know it means something, obviously, I just don’t know what.”

Bonbon repeated it with more urgency, her lip wobbling. Celeste crouched down, wrinkling her nose.

“Oh no…” She sniffed again, face falling. “Oh, stars above—Bonbon, really?”

The unmistakable scent confirmed it. Celeste gingerly lifted Bonbon at arm’s length like she was holding a cursed relic. “Did nobody think to change her? Not even once? Not even a little bit?”

Mezzo, mid-act balancing three gumballs on his nose, waved a paw. “Oi, don’t look at me. I don’t do nappies. Not my department. I’m allergic to toddler goo.”

Arcade didn’t even glance up from his omni-tool. “I don’t carry baby supplies. I’m busy keeping us alive with tech wizardry. You know—useful things.”

Celeste shot them both a flat glare, Bonbon dangling like an unfortunate plush. “Mmhm. Yes. And somehow I’m the one holding the sludge catastrophe. Very noble work from the rest of you.”

From across the room, Skye spoke up quietly, almost apologetic but blunt: “I… I’ve got a clean cloth.”

Celeste sighed, soft but grateful. “That’ll do, cariad. Thank you.”

She glanced around—and froze. “Wait. Where’s Ray?”

Everyone looked. Empty space.

“Seriously?” Celeste muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Again? She’s vanished again? Oh, that does feel rather like her.”

Mezzo shrugged, grinning like it was obvious. “Probably stormed off. She gets bored if she’s not punching something.”

Arcade smirked without lifting his head. “Or she got tired of babysitting you lot. She does that.”

Celeste groaned as she trudged toward the bathroom, muttering under her breath, “Wonderful. A disappearing emo fox, a smug hedgehog hoarder, a sugar-addled dog in shorts, a glitter grenade with legs—and me, apparently, the mum. That seems about right.”

Bonbon cuddled into her shoulder despite the smell, humming a little lullaby.

Celeste exhaled. “I need a tea. And possibly an army.”

She pressed a dreamshard against the wall. It pulsed, then unfolded into a neat cupboard—quaint, wooden, with pastel handles. Inside: antiseptic, bandages, and blessedly, sanitary supplies.

“Finally,” she muttered. “Something useful. I was beginning to think I’d have to face candy nightmares armed with good intentions and a sticky stick.”

Bonbon giggled from the counter as Celeste worked. Her rainbow-streaked fur caught the light, and Celeste’s heart twisted. She brushed the panda’s fringe aside—catching a faint ridge beneath.

Her breath hitched. She knew that shape.

Her own hand rose to her forehead, brushing the hidden scar where her horn once was. The memory stung like an old wound reopened.

Bonbon babbled cheerfully, patting Celeste’s arm. “Dw i isio mynd adre…”

Celeste swallowed hard, then smiled faintly. “You keep saying that… I really must learn Caerfaenic, mustn’t I? It feels rather rude not to, especially when little people are saying important things at me.”

Bonbon pointed at a rainbow shimmer in the wall, smiling like it was home. Celeste tried to return it, but the dream of the alicorn woman still weighed heavy on her chest. White iridescent hair. Calling to her. Being pulled away.

She pulled the slip of paper from her pocket. Tempest. That was all it said. No answers.

Her thumb brushed the numbers. Her voice cracked in a whisper. “What are you?”

Bonbon tugged her shoulder again, pointing at a glittering butterfly outside the window.

Celeste smiled softly, scooping her up. “Alright then, little rainbow panda. Let’s go and see what sort of nonsense the day has prepared for us.”