Zombies began pouring in from all sides.

Not shambling neatly, not in a straight line—no, they came spilling from broken doorways, collapsed stalls, ventilation shafts, shattered display windows, and smoke-thick side halls in a flood of syrup, wrappers, teeth, and groaning static. They twitched and dragged and lurched forward, a whole tide of candy-warped bodies closing in around them.

Celeste’s hands trembled on her blades, her breath hitching, heart racing.

She was terrified.

But when her eyes locked on Lumina—clutching her heart-shaped shield and trying so hard to stand tall—and the little panda cub clinging to Lumina’s skirt—Bonbon, frightened but still watching—something inside her snapped into focus.

This wasn’t about being fearless.

It was about being brave anyway.

Celeste swallowed hard and whispered to herself, shaky at first, “It’s just a game… like a video game…”

Her core pulsed.

A soft light flared beneath her chest.

She blinked, breath catching, as mana shot up both her arms in bright, starry streams—silver-blue light racing beneath her skin, curling around her wrists, then bursting outward in a sudden wave.

The pulse slammed through the corridor.

All of the zombies shuddered.

Their bodies jerked mid-step. Heads twitched. Limbs spasmed as if some invisible signal had passed through them all at once.

But they kept advancing.

Still coming.

Still hungry.

Celeste’s ears flattened. “Oh, that’s deeply rude.”

She tightened her grip on her swords.

“Just a game…” she said again, louder this time, trying to force the fear into something she could survive. “Just a game.”

One of the zombies lunged first—a candy-coated thing with taffy muscles and a face half-hidden beneath melted wrappers.

Celeste yelped and swung on instinct.

Her blade cut through its arm with a bright, ringing slash.

The limb flew free.

For one strange second, the severed arm hit the ground with a wet, sugary smack.

Then it started to glitch.

Flickering at the edges.

Distorting.

And with a digital fizz, it disintegrated into pixels, scattering upward like confetti.

With a cheerful chime, floating numbers appeared in the air:

+10 EXP
+Candy x3

A colourful fanfare followed—a burst of sparkles and loot like a piñata breaking open.

Celeste blinked, blades still glowing. “Wait…” She stared at the floating text in utter disbelief. “I really am in a game…”

It was absurd. Impossible.

Yet the moment the thought took root, reality bent around it.

The world shifted—warping itself to match her perception. The zombies no longer moved like grotesque monsters, but like enemies in a high-stakes boss level. Health bars flickered above their heads. Their staggered movements glitched like damaged animations. Even the corridor lights seemed to pulse with the strange rhythm of an arcade battle screen.

Celeste turned to Lumina, who was trembling but still holding her shield high.

Celeste’s grin—shaky, frightened, but real—cut through the terror like sunlight.

“Just pretend it’s a game with me, okay?” she said. “We can do this. I’m with you.”

Lumina gasped softly at her words, then nodded hard, tightening her grip on the Roselight Blade. “Okay… like a game,” she whispered. Then her voice steadied. “Let’s win together.”

She stepped beside Celeste, shoulders back, shield up—trying so hard to be strong.

And Bonbon peeked from behind, still holding her pacifier, and squeaked, “Level up?”

Celeste laughed, breathless and bright through all the fear. She reached down for just a second, brushing a bit of hair from Bonbon’s little panda face.

“Yeah,” she said softly, lifting her blades again. “Level up.”

Mezzo stared down at his glowing hands, eyes widening as a flaming red guitar materialized between them. Its body was sharp, jagged—shaped like a battle axe, with the strings crackling like molten wire. Flames licked the edges, not burning him, but hungry for sound.

His guitar axe: Infernal Riff.

“No way… This is metal.”

Without a second thought, he slung it over his shoulder and struck a power chord that rippled through the air. The sound was almost tangible, sending a shockwave that staggered the sugar cube mice closing in.

Then—reality snapped back and Mezzo saw them crawling closer, their jagged grins gleaming.

“Okay, okay! Less solos—more smashing!”

He raised the guitar like a war axe and slammed it down on the nearest creature. It burst into candy shards and EXP, a cartoonish “CRIT!” flashing midair.

Mezzo grinned wide.

“I take it back. This is the best gig ever!”

Meanwhile, Pitch stood steady amid the chaos, cool and quiet—until he felt the hum in his hands.

With a shimmer of gold light, a weapon unfolded in his grip: a sleek shotgun—the barrel forged from shimmering playing cards, each one etched with arcane suits and emblems. Across the largest card, a bold pinup fox winked above the name:

Lady Luck.

Pitch cocked the gun, and the chamber shuffled like a deck. He smirked.

“Let’s deal.”

He aimed, and fired—no bullets, but razor-sharp cards launched out, slicing through the zombie swarm like shurikens.

Each shot was precise, elegant—and lethal.

+15 EXP
+Gummy Eyeball (Rare Drop)

Pitch flicked his wrist and the gun reloaded with a shuffle.

“Never underestimate the house.”

The battlefield had changed.

No longer victims, they were players.

And every monster was just another boss to beat.

Ray, ever the stubborn lone wolf, gritted her teeth and charged the towering donut pig monster.

“Get out of my way!”

She barely got close before the beast’s gelatinous bulk swung sideways—BOOM—sending her flying like a ragdoll into a nearby display of plush toys. She growled, half-dazed but furious.

Then it happened.

A pulse surged through her chest, flowing to her arms. Her fists glowed, and in a brilliant flash, a colossal war hammer materialized in her grip.

Heartbreaker.

It was black and violet, jagged and vicious-looking. A cracked broken heart emblem pulsed at its core, beating with her rage.

The weapon was absurdly massive, almost comedic. No one should have been able to lift it. But Ray? She swung it like it was part of her.

“You’ve got to be kidding me… well, fine.”

She gripped the handle and charged.

With a mighty roar, she slammed the hammer into the pig monster’s side.

CRACK!

The beast let out a wailing oink as chunks of donut and icing blasted off its side. Sprinkles rained down like shrapnel. It stumbled, trying to recover—but Ray wasn’t done.

“Oh, now we’re playing my kind of game.”

Her eyes gleamed with confidence, a smirk tugging at her lips.

For the first time in her life—Ray didn’t just feel strong.

She was.

Meanwhile, tiny hands grasped at something that shimmered into existence—a small wand, rainbow with a lollipop-shaped tip. Little Bonbon blinked under her panda mask, tilting her head.

Twizzleburst.

It glittered like a toy—and to her, that’s all it was.

So, naturally, she giggled and bopped it against the air like she was playing pretend.

With a poof, sparkling hearts and tiny candy meteors shot forward and bounced harmlessly off a wall—until one hit a sugar mouse, disintegrating it in a burst of glitter.

+10 EXP

Bonbon clapped, not realizing the magic she had just wielded.

“Eto! Boom boom!”

Everyone else stared in disbelief.

She just beamed, swinging the wand again.

Sparkles exploded behind her.

Next, Arcade—ever the strategist, ever the logic-driven thinker—watched with bated breath as his own microchip pulsed.

“Based on my prior calculations, statistical models, and the law of narrative symmetry… this should be something absolutely magnificent.”

His hands sparked.

A sudden ping sounded, and materialized in front of him was… a tiny robot.

About the size of a lunchbox.

Gray, with a magnet-themed color scheme: one eye softly glowed blue, the other red. It had a single spinning antenna and stubby legs that wobbled awkwardly as it looked up at him.

“Hello, Master. Awaiting commands.”

Arcade blinked. “…That’s it?”

There was a beat of stunned silence.

Then Mezzo burst out laughing, nearly doubling over.

“BAHAHA—Look at it! It’s adorable! I thought you’d summon a tank, not a toaster!”

There was a pause.

The tiny robot’s eyes narrowed by a fraction.

Then it tilted its little square head and said, in a suddenly much drier voice, “Oh, I’m sorry. Were you expecting a moon cannon?”

Mezzo burst out laughing so hard he nearly dropped Infernal Riff.

“BAHAHA—yes! Keep that! He should stay like that!”

Arcade stared at the robot. “Did my summon just develop an attitude?”

The robot gave a cheerful beep. Then, in the same flat, sarcastic tone, it replied, “Adjusting behavioural parameters. Sarcasm mode is now permanent.”

Arcade deadpanned. “Outstanding. I summoned myself with worse proportions.”

Pitch snorted.

Ray looked over mid-swing and muttered, “That’s unfortunate for everyone.”

Arcade’s eye twitched. “What can you even do? You’re tiny.”

The robot gave no reply. Instead, it beeped once and its entire body began to fold inward—like a reverse origami trick—until it formed a small metal cube.

Then the cube began to grow.

It expanded outward, massively, clicking and shifting like transforming armor until it towered over the group—a full battle mech, easily ten feet tall, sleek and industrial.

Its blue-and-red eyes flickered back on.

“I’m C.H.I.P. I am travel-sized for your convenience,” it said cheerfully, before tearing through the sugar mice like tissue paper.

+20 EXP

Arcade smirked smugly.

“Finally. Someone here who understands proper hardware.”

Last—but by no means least—was Skye.

He stood quiet, unsure. Everyone else had flashy weapons, powers—even a mecha. But nothing had happened to him.

Then he noticed it—his card launcher.
The once-plain device now shimmered like treasure unearthed. Its casing gleamed with enchanted gold, inlaid with radiant gemstones that pulsed in time with his heartbeat. Intricate runes curled along its edges, glowing faintly like a spell waiting to be spoken.

Aurex Arcana.

There was a soft click, smooth and deliberate.
A single shimmering card slid into his hand—warm with magic, heavy with purpose.

He stared at it, uncertain, but loaded it into the launcher anyway.

“Might as well try…”

WHOOSH.

From the card burst a flickering sprite, glowing and elegant, like a hummingbird made of fire and light. It spun once in the air and shot a fireball straight into the giant marshmallow bunny.

The creature let out a soft splorch before melting into a gooey puddle, giving off the faint smell of burnt sugar.

+10 EXP
+Candy x3

Skye gasped.

“Whoa… That… was me?”

Celeste gave him a proud nod. “Looks like everyone has something special now.”

Mezzo whooped. “Best game ever!”

And so, for the first time since the chaos began, the group stood tall.

Together. Armed. Ready.

A team.