The city was unnervingly silent as the group hurried through the cracked streets, shadows stretching long beneath the sickly glow of candy-colored neon signs. Celeste cradled Bonbon tightly against her chest, careful not to jostle the toddler, who whimpered softly but refused to be put down. Lumina kept pace beside her, eyes wide and frantic, her hands trembling as she tried to steady her breathing.

Arcade jogged ahead, omni-tool flickering, muttering to himself. “Too quiet,” he said, tone edged with suspicion. He adjusted his glasses, scanning the sugar-slick streets. “And when it’s too quiet? That usually means something very loud and very teeth-shaped is about to—”

The alley to their left erupted with a guttural growl.

Candy-rotted husks lurched forward—marshmallow limbs cracking, sour-gummy eyes glowing with hunger.

“Run!” Celeste squeaked, clutching Bonbon to her chest like a shield. Her voice wavered, but she forced it louder. “P-please, everyone—run!”

Mezzo was already at the back, eyes wide. “Ah feck! Outta a sweet shop nightmare—MOVE!”

The group bolted, pounding toward the looming silhouette of the police station. Celeste’s heart thudded like a drum; Bonbon whimpered against her, sticky tears matting her fur.

Behind them, the horde snapped and shuffled faster.

Lumina’s hands hovered uselessly, panic twisting her face. “I don’t know what to do!” she cried, stumbling as she looked back at the pursuing creatures.

Arcade’s breath hitched, nearly tripping over rubble. “Brilliant,” he snapped, half to himself. “This is how geniuses die—trampled by toffee-flavoured corpses.”

Ray skidded to a stop, fangs bared, eyes blazing violet. “Enough whining!” she barked. She slammed her hammer through the nearest zombie’s jaw with bone-cracking force, syrup spraying. “Go! I’ll cover!”

She ripped another apart and then sprinted to rejoin them, snarling. “Don’t make me do all the heavy lifting, kids!”

Celeste gasped for breath, her voice breaking but still determined. “J-just a little further! We’ll be safe soon, I promise—”

Her promise wavered as her eyes stung with sweat. She could only hope it was true.

Finally, the looming police station came into view. The heavy doors stood ajar, yawning like a broken jaw.

Mezzo staggered up first, clutching his side, his grin shaky but defiant. “Thank the stars—we made it! Open up, lads! Anyone still breathin’ in there?”

His voice cracked into the empty dark.

Silence answered.

The team exchanged hollow looks, hope draining away like the fading light.

Behind them, the sea of zombies spilled into the street, closing in relentlessly.

Lumina bolted for the coms screen, almost tripping over her own boots. Her small paws fumbled the interface, dialing desperately with trembling fingers.

She pressed it to her ear. Static. Nothing.

Her lip wobbled. “It’s broken! It’s not— it’s not working!” Tears streaked her cheeks, her voice rising to a raw, childlike cry.

Celeste was there in a heartbeat, crouching beside her, voice soft and shaking. “Oh, sweetheart—don’t cry. We’ll… we’ll find another way. I promise.” She tried to steady her own trembling hands, brushing Lumina’s hair from her eyes, even though her own voice cracked.

Then, a sudden roar echoed overhead.

The white dragon from before came screaming out of the sky.

She tore through the sugar-thick clouds in a sweep of iridescent white, her wrapping-paper scales flashing pearl and pale gold as pastel claws spread wide. Ribbon-like golden locks streamed behind her, and her yellow eyes burned with sharp, familiar irritation.

Then she hit the street like judgment.

A torrent of blazing white energy burst from her jaws, bright as dawn and hot enough to turn the charging zombie horde into sparkling ash. Candy flesh blackened, shattered, and disintegrated in seconds, the creatures collapsing into glittering dust that swirled through the ruined road like burnt sugar caught in the wind.

The team could only stare.

One moment the street had been overrun.

The next, it was clear.

A warm, radiant pulse rolled outward from the dragon’s magic and washed over them all. It slipped through their bodies like sunlight through water—strengthening, sharpening, waking something deeper in their bones.

+1,000 EXP
+ Marzipan Capsule (Legendary Drop)

LEVEL UP!
➤ Level 3 Achieved!

Power surged through them again, two full levels rising at once. New energy crackled at their fingertips, bright and eager and dangerous.

The white dragon landed in front of them with a heavy thud.

Then she just… stared.

Not proudly.

Not gently.

Like a deeply disappointed parent who had turned around for five minutes and found her children had immediately run off into danger they had absolutely been told not to touch.

Her yellow eyes moved across the whole group one by one.

Celeste.

Mezzo.

Arcade.

Skye.

Lumina.

Bonbon.

And finally Ray.

Ray visibly stiffened. “Oh, don’t start.”

The dragon gave a low, unimpressed rumble.

Ray took one slow step backward. Then another. “Nope. I’m not doing this. I’m leaving.”

She turned to run.

She made it exactly two strides.

The dragon shot out one great forepaw, hooked the tip of Ray’s tail with shocking precision, and dragged her right back across the pavement like a cub that had wandered off from the den.

Ray yelped. “Hey—! Let go!”

The dragon gave another hard look, completely unmoved.

Ray twisted around, trying to pull free. “I said let go! I can walk on my own, thanks!”

The dragon did not release her.

It only narrowed its eyes further.

Ray struggled for another few seconds, kicking uselessly at the ground and muttering increasingly offended complaints under her breath.

Then, finally, with the air of someone realising she was not going to win an argument with a several-ton magical reptile, she sagged.

“…Fine,” she muttered. “This is humiliating.”

The dragon let go.

Ray stumbled forward, straightened up with as much dignity as she could salvage, and pointed accusingly at the white creature. “I’m still mad about that.”

The dragon blinked slowly, as if to say: good.

Then her golden eyes flicked to Celeste for a brief moment—a silent acknowledgment, older and heavier than words—before she spread her vast pastel wings and launched herself back into the sky, vanishing over the ruined skyline of Clawdiff.

Celeste exhaled, hope rekindled but tempered by the brutal truth that the fight was far from over.

The group stumbled inside the police station, doors creaking shut behind them. The once-bustling hub of law and order was now eerily silent and deserted. Rows of empty desks lay scattered with abandoned paperwork, flickering monitors casting cold light onto the cracked tiles.

Arcade moved quickly toward the security room, eyes scanning for any signs of life or help. The security monitor flickered on, displaying a loop of chilling footage.

The camera showed crowds of terrified citizens running through the mall and city streets, only to be overtaken by the candy zombies. Some were dragged away, struggling and screaming; others were ripped apart and devoured whole, their bodies disappearing into the grotesque mouths of the creatures.

Then the footage shifted — a grainier, closer-angle shot, like it came from a hacked surveillance drone. Ordinary people were changing, their bodies convulsing, swelling, skin splitting as candy-crusted flesh tore through like blooming rot. Mythics transformed first — grotesque, monstrous versions of themselves, their powers amplified by the infection. One dragon-blooded mythic roared, wings tearing from their back before they turned and ripped through a crowd of civilians.

Hybrids were automatically targeted. Candy Zombies swooped in from above, tagging them with powers or bites, stunning them into unconsciousness before dragging them away by the dozens into dark, waiting pods.

Worse still, anyone who fought back — purebloods, mythics, hybrids alike — anyone who showed aggression toward the zombies… was eaten. But those who didn’t? Who froze, who screamed, who surrendered?

They were captured.

Cocooned in sticky webbing. Stuffed into transport pods. Taken.

Arcade’s pupils shrank. His fingers slipped off the console. “This—this is wrong. This breaks every model—” His stomach lurched, and before he could finish, he doubled over and vomited hard against the wall.

The silence after was unbearable.

Mezzo’s voice cracked as he forced a grin that didn’t land. “We—we can’t be the only ones left, right? Motherlight, there’s gotta be others. Someone with sense, someone with a bloody exit plan.” His paws shook as he rubbed them against his jeans.

Celeste stepped closer to Lumina, drawing her near. Her voice was soft but firm, trying to hold everyone together. “If you run off now, Mezzo… you’ll die. We’re all each other has.”

Mezzo swallowed hard, struggling against the rising tide of fear.

From the corner, Ray scoffed, crossing her arms tight. “Listen to yourselves. You sound like scared kids. Which—newsflash—we are. If I had my old crew? We’d be storming this nightmare already. But you lot?” Her eyes cut toward Celeste like a blade. “You’ve got the aura of someone who’s never even been punched.”

Celeste flinched but steadied herself, cheeks warm, eyes defiant. “Y-you’re not wrong. But I still… I still want to live.”

The room fell into a heavy silence, the weight of truth pressing down on them all.

Celeste’s voice broke the silence, steady but hopeful.
“Maybe if we go to the archives, we can find some answers. Maybe there’ll be people there. Someone who can help.”

Mezzo threw up his paws, guitar-axe slung across his back. “Council’s the only lot with real firepower. Flying dreadnoughts, whole bloody armies—they could swat a dragon out of the sky. You really think a bunch of mythics in caravans are going to do more than sing campfire songs?”

Ray bristled, eyes flashing. “Don’t you dare mock them. My old crew is still out there—tougher than you’ll ever be. And those ‘campfire songs’ got us through raids the Council never lifted a paw to stop. The mythics have fortifications. They move, they adapt. They’ve survived worse than this.”

Arcade adjusted his glasses, voice flat. “Statistically, the Council may be the best shot. They’ve got resources—factories, soldiers, weapons. Mythics? No offense, but they’re a caravan, not a war machine.”

Ray snapped her hammer into her paw with a hiss of purple sparks. “That caravan could outlast every pureblood fortress you’ve ever seen. They don’t sit in glass towers waiting to be eaten alive. They fight dirty. They live free.”

Mezzo stepped forward, nose almost touching hers. “And when the dragon swoops down? What then? You gonna throw your caravan wheels at it? Council’s terrifying, aye, but at least they’ve got the guns to keep us alive.”

The two glared at each other, tension hot enough to crackle the air. Both turned, almost at the same time, to Celeste.

“We need her,” Mezzo growled.

“She’s the only one who makes either option possible,” Ray countered.

Celeste swallowed, pulling Lumina closer, her voice trembling but gentle. “I… I don’t know which side is right. But if you fight each other, there won’t be any side left to run to.”

For a heartbeat, it almost seemed to reach them.

Ray’s eyes narrowed. She summoned her hammer with a snap, the familiar purple glow blazing around her.

“Screw this. I’m gone. If you can’t see that the Council won’t lift a finger to help, then I don’t know what to tell you. You’re just idiots.”

But just like before, the hammer flickered—and vanished.

Ray’s knees buckled, and she collapsed hard onto the cracked pavement outside the police station. A frustrated scream tore from her throat.

Her fury surged toward the nearest target—Celeste. She lunged, seizing her arm.

“You’re coming with me. Now.”

Celeste blinked, pointing to herself. “What, me?”

Ray threw her a look. “Noooo, the dragon, of course. You. I’m going back to the Rustrows, and I need you to use my hammer, so get moving.”

Celeste yelped, stumbling back, her katanas flaring into existence in clumsy light. She raised them anyway, her voice cracking as she pleaded, “P-please—stop. I have my sister. I won’t leave her.”

Ray laughed bitterly, teeth bared. “Please? Stars above, you’re softer than marshmallow guts.”

Then she charged. Hammer against blades. Celeste flew backward under the weight, her back smashing across the tiles.

Mezzo panicked, throwing himself between them. “Oi! If you kill her, there goes your shiny feckin’ hammer, genius!”

Ray snarled and slammed the ground at his feet. The impact sent a signboard tumbling down. Celeste dove, shoving Mezzo clear—only for the rubble to pin Ray instead.

Gasping, straining, Ray found herself stuck. Celeste staggered up, hair in her face, chest heaving. She stood over her, blades trembling in her grip.

“I—I’m sorry,” Celeste stammered, her words firm despite the tremor. “But if you can’t play along, we won’t make it. Please. Just… stay. Until we find help.”

Ray glared up at her, chest rising and falling with ragged breaths. At last, a reluctant nod.

Celeste reached out. Helped her up.

Ray shoved past her shoulder and stormed toward the archive entrance without another word.

Mezzo blew out a shaky laugh, voice still too loud for the silence. “Well, that was… kind of you.”

Skye muttered flatly from the side, his lips twitching at the irony. “Kind. For someone with swords.”

Celeste sighed, letting her katanas fade, shoulders heavy. The truce was uneasy—but it held. For now.