Mezzo didn’t move for a long moment.
He simply held Celeste.
One arm wrapped around her shoulders, the other steady against her back as she trembled in the aftermath of everything that had happened. Her breathing was uneven, the earlier storm of mana finally burning itself out of her system, leaving only exhaustion behind.
The cookie room—normally loud enough to wake the dead—had fallen strangely quiet.
The smell of warm sugar and baked dough still drifted through the air from the ovens along the far wall. Lanterns shaped like dripping caramel glowed softly overhead. Half-finished snacks littered the tables where the Knights had been sitting only minutes earlier.
Now no one was eating.
No one was talking.
Mezzo gently rested his chin against the top of Celeste’s head, muttering something quiet and reassuring that no one else quite caught.
Across the room, Hughes let out a slow breath.
The old knight pushed himself up from his chair with a soft groan of tired joints.
“Well,” he said quietly.
He rubbed the back of his neck once, glancing between Celeste, Mezzo, and the rest of the room.
“Blimey…that’s enough excitement for one morning.”
Bracer stood nearby, arms folded as he watched the situation with his usual unreadable expression.
Hughes gave him a look.
“Come on then.”
Bracer tilted his head slightly.
“Where?”
Hughes jerked his thumb toward the hallway.
“Wherever the riot stormed off to.”
He sighed again.
“I’ll help sort this out before someone burns the tree down.”
Ray lifted her head from the table.
“…You sure?”
Hughes gave her a small, tired smile.
“Been mediating stubborn fools longer than most of you have been alive.”
Bracer pushed himself away from the wall.
“Fair point.”
Ray nodded once.
“…Thanks.”
The two of them headed for the door.
Their footsteps faded down the corridor.
For a moment—
The cookie room fell quiet.
No arguments.
No chaos.
Just the soft creak of the Egg Tree shifting in the morning breeze.
Then a tiny voice spoke from beside the table.
“Chair.”
Everyone looked down.
Bonbon stood beside the massive table, pointing upward with one small paw.
“Big chair.”
The room blinked collectively.
“…What?” Ray asked.
Bonbon pointed again.
“Chair.”
Slowly—
Very slowly—
Everyone followed the direction of her finger.
And then they realized.
Celeste wasn’t sitting in just any chair.
She was sitting in the Candy Throne.
The enormous chair at the head of the room.
The one no one used.
The throne was ridiculous.
A towering monstrosity of swirled sugar and caramel, its high back carved from glossy chocolate bark and embedded with ruby-red hard candies that glittered like jewels in the lantern light. Caramel scrollwork twisted up the armrests like molten vines, while faded royal fabric draped across the back like the cape of some long-forgotten dessert monarch.
Even the seat cushion sparkled faintly with sugar crystals.
It looked like something a sugar-crazed king might have commissioned after losing a bet with a pastry chef.
But the real reason it sat empty was not aesthetic.
They suspected the throne was violently enchanted.
No one knew who had cursed it.
No one had managed to break the enchantment.
But everyone knew what happened when you sat in it.
You were launched across the room like a cannonball fired by a very judgmental bakery.
Bonbon had once sat in it.
She had flown ten feet.
Straight into a bin of marshmallow bolts.
Arcade had tried to dismantle the curse once.
He had been thrown through a rack of cookie trays.
Even Chip’s diagnostics had come back with the mechanical equivalent of absolutely not touching that.
So the chair had remained empty.
Untouched.
For months.
Until now.
Celeste sat in it.
Right now.
Still in Mezzo’s arms.
The entire room stared.
Ray slowly leaned toward Topsy.
“…Does she know?”
Topsy whispered back.
“…I don’t think she knows.”
Bonbon pointed again.
“Big chair.”
Everyone held their breath.
Mezzo gasped dramatically.
“HEY!”
He pointed at the throne.
“No fair!”
“Princess, I called dibs on that chair!”
The silence still hung, heavy as honey—until Mezzo suddenly dropped into a deep, sweeping bow, his ukulele thumping the floor beside him.
“All hail Her Royal Nibbleness,” he proclaimed grandly, “Queen of the Crunchy Realms and Keeper of the Sugar Bowl!”
Ray snorted. “You’re an idiot.”
But Bonbon popped up from behind the table, clutching a sparkly plastic tiara she’d been hiding in her hoodie pocket. With utmost ceremony, she tiptoed over and gently placed it on Celeste’s head.
“Nommie queen,” Bonbon declared proudly.
The room went quiet for half a second.
Then Celeste laughed.
A real laugh.
“If that’s what you think I am.”
The moment it settled, Plum stood up and cleared her throat with exaggerated pomp.
“As your official herald,” she said solemnly, “I announce your glorious ascension to the gumdrop throne. All hail the Nommie Zombie Queen!”
Ray cackled and tossed Lumina a massive rainbow-swirled lollipop, nearly as tall as her.
“For royal duties,” she smirked. “Y’know—eatin’ it or bashin’ people. Your majesty’s call.”
Bonbon stood proudly beside Celeste while the ridiculous lollipop sceptre rested across Celeste's lap.
Lumina stepped forward next.
Then bowed with perfect seriousness.
“Your royal advisor is at your service, Your Nibbleness.”
Pitch leaned against a pillar and gave a small wink.
“Well then.”
“I humbly offer my services as your Spymaster.” he stated. “Touch her and you taste pavement.”
Ray laughed loudly.
“I’ll be your General then.”
Arcade raised a finger.
“Statistically speaking that would make me the Royal Artificer.”
Skye nervously produced a ridiculously vibrant rainbow throw blanket from his satchel—where it had absolutely no right to be—and draped it over her shoulders like a sacred relic.
“I want to be Head Wizard.”
Mezzo dramatically dropped to one knee.
Taking her hand.
“And I shall be your spiffing bodyguard, my lady.”
Celeste burst out laughing.
So hard tears started forming in her eyes.
Plum’s voice crackled over the speakers.
“Well then.”
“In that case—”
Her voice suddenly became grand and theatrical.
“Hear ye! Hear ye!”
“The Nommie Zombies Queen has proclaimed the Kingdom of Beauty Park for the hybrids!”
“May her reign be long!”
Her friends—her ridiculous, brilliant friends—had just staged the most ridiculous coronation in the middle of an apocalypse.
And it was perfect.
She wiped a tear, still chuckling.
“Okay,” she said, voice breathless from laughter. “Okay. Fine. Long live the Nommie Zombie Queen.”
Ray was still wiping tears from her eyes, Mezzo absentmindedly plucking heroic nonsense chords on the tiny ukulele he had found somewhere, and Bonbon stood proudly beside Celeste with the lollipop scepter like a royal guard who had just completed the most important duty of her life.
The door opened again. Hughes slipped back inside alone, brushing caramel leaves from his coat.
“Outer gate's holding. Bracer's organising the refugee representatives.”
Celeste blinked.
Then suddenly—
Her eyes widened.
“…wait.”
The room paused.
Everyone looked at her.
“That’s it.”
She stood up so quickly the candy-cape slipped from her shoulders and pooled onto the floor.
“That’s it!”
Arcade frowned from where he leaned over the map console.
“…what is?”
Celeste stepped forward, reaching for the holographic projection hovering above the table.
Her fingers spread across the controls.
The map zoomed in.
Clawdiff appeared in glowing blue lines—its streets, districts, and wards laid out like a living circuit board.
Then she zoomed further.
The green expanse of Beauty Park filled the projection.
“We build a settlement here.”
Ray blinked.
“…a what?”
Celeste leaned forward, her voice growing faster the way it always did when her mind caught fire with an idea.
“The refugees.”
She pointed toward the park.
“We seal off the entire area and turn it into a temporary town.”
Arcade’s eyebrows lifted slightly.
Celeste continued, already thinking three steps ahead.
“Lady Umbranox said we can use the park if we need to.”
Her hand moved across the map, highlighting nearby mana conduits and shattered candy-zombie zones.
“We still have Capsules from Marzipan.”
Her finger tapped the display.
“With enough mana we could break down the candy growth into usable supplies.”
Her voice picked up speed.
“Food.”
“Construction materials.”
“Fuel.”
Arcade leaned closer now.
Celeste continued.
“We recruit hybrids from the refugees.”
Her eyes shone with determination.
“Anyone capable of fighting joins the Knights or the Bracer Squad.”
Her hand moved again across the projection.
“The rest can help build and maintain the settlement.”
Skye looked up from his cards.
Celeste’s voice softened slightly as she gestured toward him.
“If Brassmane or Bracer can help other hybrids learn how to use mana the way we do…”
Her finger tapped the zombie hot zones glowing red across the map.
“…we could make a real dent in the Zombies.”
Ray slowly sat up straighter.
Celeste continued.
“The council will need those fighters.”
“If hybrids take over the city defense, it frees the council forces.”
Her voice hardened slightly.
“And that gives us time.”
She zoomed the map outward again.
“To hunt the generals.”
“And investigate the plague.”
The holographic display shifted again.
Celeste zoomed in on a structure near the edge of Beauty Park just next to the egg tree.
A massive stone complex rose into view.
Clawdiff Castle.
She pointed to it.
“And maybe…”
Her ears twitched slightly.
“…we can ask Lady Umbranox if we can use this.”
Pitch leaned against the table.
“That old place?”
He crossed his arms.
“It’s been abandoned for years.”
“Mostly a tourist site now.”
Celeste nodded.
“Yes.”
“But it’s structurally sound.”
Her finger traced the defensive walls around the building.
“If we had a headquarters there…”
She looked around the room.
“…we could defend Clawdiff much more effectively.”
Her eyes drifted briefly to the massive roots of the Egg Tree visible through the windows.
“As much as I love the Tree…”
She smiled faintly.
“…if we recruit more Knights…”
Her hand gestured around the room.
“…they’ll need a bigger home than this.”
Ray nodded slowly.
“…that’s actually a really good point.”
Ray nodded slowly.
“…That’s actually a really good point.”
Hughes, however, lifted one hand.
“Careful.”
The room quieted slightly.
Celeste looked at him.
“What?”
Hughes nodded toward the glowing map of Beauty Park.
“We are borrowing the land.”
His voice stayed calm.
Firm.
“This is an emergency location. Nothing more.”
Topsy’s ears drooped slightly.
“So… not Sugartopia?”
“Not officially,” Hughes said.
Arcade gave a dry little snort.
“Tragic. The stationery industry will recover.”
Hughes ignored him.
“If we try to stake a claim, the Council will have our heads.”
Celeste looked back at the map, thinking.
“Right…”
Her fingers hovered over the projection.
“So we frame it as temporary refugee housing.”
“Emergency shelter,” Hughes corrected.
“Emergency shelter,” Celeste repeated.
“And defensive coordination,” Ray added.
“And supply distribution,” Arcade said.
“And possibly not calling it Sugartopia in any written documents,” Pitch muttered from the shadows.
Topsy gasped like she had been stabbed.
Celeste smiled faintly, but it didn’t last.
“Maybe Silver can help sort out the legal side.”
The room shifted.
Just slightly.
Celeste’s ears lowered.
“That is…”
She rubbed the back of her neck.
“…if he ever talks to me again.”
Ray’s eyes narrowed immediately.
“What did you do?”
Mezzo straightened.
“Correction.”
He pointed one finger at Ray.
“What did he do?”
Celeste winced.
“It was just a falling out, I think.”
Ray folded her arms.
“You think?”
Celeste looked down at the glowing map.
“It’s complicated.”
Skye, who had been nervously shuffling his card deck near Hughes, looked up.
“He’s confused.”
Everyone turned toward him.
Skye froze.
His ears shot down.
“I mean—”
He swallowed.
“You’re too much to look at.”
Celeste blinked.
“…What?”
Skye went bright red.
“I mean—not look at like that—I mean—”
He hugged his cards to his chest.
“It’s just a thought.”
The room went awkwardly quiet.
Celeste looked even more confused.
Ray stared at Skye.
Mezzo’s brows lifted.
Arcade slowly opened his mouth.
Hughes gave him one look.
Arcade closed it again.
Skye stared at the floor, mortified.
But Hughes understood.
Not the words.
The feeling beneath them.
Silver was not only angry.
Not only embarrassed.
He was overwhelmed.
Celeste was too bright for whatever careful cage he had built around himself.
Too strange.
Too powerful.
Too kind.
Too much.
Hughes said nothing.
Some truths were not his to explain.
Celeste cleared her throat and turned back to the map, cheeks faintly pink.
“Right. Well.”
She tapped the projection again.
“Emergency shelter first.”
Topsy gasped.
A massive, excited gasp.
Her paws slammed onto the table.
“Oh my stars.”
She bounced up and down where she stood.
“A REAL TOWN?!”
Her eyes sparkled with absolute delight.
“I’m so excited!”
She spun toward Celeste.
“What should we call it?!”
Her paws flew dramatically through the air.
“I vote Sugartopia!”
She gasped again.
“Or—OR—”
Her voice rose with increasing enthusiasm.
“Sweetstreets!”
Arcade groaned.
Ray buried her face in her hands.
Mezzo strummed a triumphant chord.
And Celeste—
Standing over the glowing map of the future—
Couldn’t stop smiling.
