The escalators groaned as they carried Mezzo up to the second floor of St Dante’s Mall, a hollowed-out shell of its former self. Faded banners still dangled from the ceiling above the atrium—SUMMER STAR SALE, BUY ONE GET ONE FREE, MEET CAPTAIN COSMO THIS SATURDAY—all of it yellowed, dust-clung, and wrong beneath the dome-light. Somewhere overhead, forgotten speakers still played an old shopping tune, though it warbled badly whenever the power flickered, turning cheerful music into something thin and haunted.

The mall had survived the sugar outbreak better than most places.

Structurally, at least.

Its soul had still been gutted.

It felt like tinsel hanging on a burnt tree.

Mezzo stepped off the escalator with purpose, coat fluttering behind him, boots striking the tiles in brisk, irritated beats. His jaw was tight. His mind kept replaying the same horrible little moment from breakfast over and over again.

The look on Skye’s face.

Mezzo winced.

He had not meant it the way it came out.

But it had come out just the same.

He moved to the railing and looked over the empty atrium below. Dead shopfronts ringed the open centre. A fountain shaped like a smiling moonbug sat bone-dry and crusted in sugar. Somewhere in the distance, something clattered once, then went quiet.

He tightened his grip on his messenger bag.

Infernal Riff always shimmerd that when something felt off, the strings flashing faintly red and gold as if plucking at danger only it could hear. Beside him, Celeste had both katanas out, Starlight and Starbrite catching the weak pink glow filtering through the broken skylights. Lumina clutched Roselight Blade in one paw and her little Heart Guard shield in the other, trying very hard to look brave. Bonbon stayed close to Celeste’s leg, peering out from behind her with wide panda eyes. Carys walked with one hand resting on the metal signpost she had taken as a weapon, like she had decided if the apocalypse insisted on being rude, she would at least hit back stylishly.

They edged toward the centre of the level, where a faded carousel sat in the middle of the atrium floor, painted bug-horses frozen mid-leap beneath a cracked starry canopy.

Then it moved.

The entire group jolted.

Celeste yelped and nearly crossed both katanas in front of Bonbon.

Lumina gave a tiny squeak.

Mezzo spun, Infernal Riff half-summoned—

And Carys raised one hand.

“Oh,” she said. “That may have been me.”

Everyone stared at her.

Carys shifted where she was leaning against one of the carousel poles. The whole mechanism gave another slow, complaining creak.

“I put my weight on it.”

Mezzo turned to her, scandalised. “Would ye stop leanin’ on haunted objects like ye’re in a bloody tea room?”

Carys lifted a brow. “It is not haunted.”

“It just moved on its own in an abandoned mall!”

“Because I leaned on it.”

“That’s exactly what a haunted mall wants me to think!”

To Celeste’s great surprise, a laugh escaped her.

Enough to make Mezzo glance at her.

“There she is,” he muttered, relieved despite himself. “Thought I’d lost ye entirely to the doom spiral.”

“I am not in a doom spiral,” Celeste said, though she was smiling.

“You’re armed with two glowing swords in an old shopping centre full o’ nightmare sweets. If there’s ever a place for a doom spiral, it’s here.”

Bonbon pointed suddenly, little paw stretched toward a restaurant across the atrium.

Its bright sign still glowed in flickering neon.

GALAXY GRUB

The place was decorated in purples and blues, with painted stars on the windows, cartoon planets hanging from the awning, and a giant smiling comet mascot wearing a paper hat.

Bonbon tugged Celeste’s coat.

“Yna.”

Celeste looked where she was pointing.

In the front window was a faded poster advertising a meal deal.

LIMITED EDITION STAR RAIDERS TRADING CARDS INSIDE! COLLECT ALL 12!

Lumina’s face lit up at once. “Cards!”

Bonbon nodded very seriously. “Cardiau.”

Mezzo squinted through the dusty glass.

Then back at the poster.

A softer expression passed over his face.

“That,” he said, “would be perfect for his birthday tomorrow.”

Celeste’s ears lifted. “For Skye?”

“Aye.”

Her expression gentled too. “And maybe we could make a card as well. A proper one. Something personal.”

Mezzo nodded. “Aye. Somethin’ that says sorry without makin’ it all weird.”

“Everything is already weird,” Carys pointed out.

“That is not helpful.”

“It is accurate.”

Lumina hugged her shield to her chest. “Do you think he’d like space cards?”

“He likes cards,” Celeste said. “And stars.”

Bonbon pointed again, more insistently this time. “Cardiau.”

Mezzo gave the restaurant a wary once-over. “Right then. We’ll have a look.”

Carys stayed by the carousel with Lumina, resting her makeshift weapon over one shoulder. “I’ll keep watch out here. If anything tries to eat me, I expect dramatic rescue.”

“You’ll get moderate rescue at best,” Mezzo said.

“I’ll lower my standards accordingly.”

Celeste smiled faintly and followed Mezzo toward Galaxy Grub, Bonbon padding after them.

Up close, the restaurant looked as though a fight had gone through it and then got bored halfway. Chairs were overturned. One of the tabletops had been cracked in two. Trays lay scattered across the floor. A papier-mâché moon had fallen from the ceiling and was now lying face-down beside the counter. One wall display had been clawed open from the inside.

Celeste stepped over a spilled pile of children’s cups shaped like rockets. “This does not feel reassuring.”

“No,” Mezzo said. “But on the bright side, if there are trading cards, nobody’s queued for them in a while.”

Celeste glanced at him.

He grinned weakly. “Too soon?”

“It was a bit dreadful.”

“So ye did laugh.”

“That was more of a sympathy laugh.”

“I’ll take it.”

At the far end of the restaurant stood a little stage framed by glitter-painted stars and velvet curtains. Above it hung a sign:

GALAXY GRUB PRESENTS: CAPTAIN COSMO & THE ORBIT PALS!

Mezzo stared at it.

“Oh no.”

Celeste followed his gaze. “What?”

“That is an animatronic stage.”

She blinked. “Is that bad?”

He looked at her as though she had asked whether fire was warm. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because nothin’ with dead eyes and a smile that wide should move when you don’t ask it to.”

Celeste opened her mouth.

Closed it again.

“That is… surprisingly fair.”

Bonbon, meanwhile, had wandered toward a plush claw machine near the side wall. The glass front was fogged with dust, but inside were heaps of faded star-shaped toys, moon-rabbits, comet bugs, and glittering alien cats.

Bonbon pressed both paws to the glass. “Meddal.”

Celeste’s face softened at once. “Oh, they are rather cute.”

Mezzo hopped up onto the stage and slung Infernal Riff around properly, partly because it made him feel better and partly because he needed something in his hands that was definitely not an animatronic. He struck a few bright notes. The sound rang through the dead restaurant, sharp and lively and wonderfully real.

Celeste looked up at him and clapped.

The simple, earnest sound made Mezzo laugh under his breath.

“Thank ye, thank ye. Limited engagement only.”

He played a little more—just enough to cut through the stale stillness—and for a heartbeat the restaurant felt almost normal. Not safe, exactly. But briefly less dead.

Celeste smiled properly then.

It suited her far too well.

There was something about seeing her smile after that miserable morning that tugged at Mezzo’s chest in a bruising sort of way.

So he hopped down from the stage with exaggerated swagger and held out a hand.

“C’mon then.”

Celeste blinked. “What?”

“Dance.”

“In the abandoned space burger place?”

“Aye.”

“That is ridiculous.”

“That’s why we’re doin’ it.”

Celeste laughed, the sound light and surprised. “Mezzo—”

“Before the apocalypse kills the mood entirely.”

Bonbon had somehow climbed halfway into the plush claw machine by then, one leg kicking behind her as she reached for a faded star plush.

Celeste looked from Mezzo, to the sad little restaurant.

Then she sighed fondly took his hand.

Mezzo pulled her into a silly little spin between overturned chairs. Celeste stumbled on the first step, laughed at herself, then found the rhythm. Her skirt swished. Bonbon made an excited little noise from inside the claw machine. Even the dead planets hanging from the ceiling seemed to sway with them.

For a heartbeat, it was absurd.

And lovely.

Then the music changed.

Infernal Riff did not stop in Mezzo’s hands.

It simply… wasn’t the only music anymore.

Somewhere in the restaurant, a second melody clicked into life.

A music box tune.

Mezzo stopped dead.

Celeste’s smile vanished.

The lights above the stage flickered blue, then pink, then a sickly pale white.

Bonbon looked up from inside the claw machine.

The velvet curtains trembled.

Then two voices spoke from behind them in perfect, sugary unison.

“A cat and dog came out to play…”

Celeste went still.

“…and left their friends far away…”

The curtains twitched again.

Mezzo’s face drained of colour.

Celeste whispered, “Mezzo…”

The voices rose into a bright, mocking sing-song.

“But now the naughty puppy and kitty
need to be trained
to not be silly…”

The curtains flew open.

Four animatronics stood on the stage.

A moon-faced rabbit in a tiny captain’s uniform.

A grinning star-cat with glitter eyes.

A planet dog with spinning rings around its middle.

And a little comet bird whose beak clicked with each wordless jerk of its head.

All of them were covered in thick strands of candy floss.

Pink. Blue. White.

It clung to their joints, their mouths, their fingers, as if something alive had spun itself over them and then crawled inside.

Their heads turned in a horrible, stuttering unison.

And then they moved.

Mezzo made a strangled sound.

Not a shout.

Not even a word.

Just pure, naked terror.

He stumbled back so hard he nearly fell over a tray.

Celeste turned, dragging him with her. “Run!”

The animatronics lurched from the stage.

They were too fast.

Candy floss shot from the moon-rabbit’s mouth in a sticky stream, splattering across the floor and walls. The star-cat dropped from the stage on all fours, metal claws scraping tile. The planet dog’s ring spun so quickly it whined like a saw.

Mezzo lost it.

Completely.

His breath went ragged. He dropped for half a second just to clamp both hands over his ears like the sight of them alone was too much.

“No, no, no, no—”

“Mezzo!”

Celeste slashed with Starlight, carving through a ribbon of candy floss before it could hit Mezzo, but more came from above, from the sides, from the bird animatronic as it flapped its rusted wings and sprayed spun sugar like webbing.

Her eyes darted toward the claw machine.

“Bonbon!”

Celeste struck again.

Light flashed.

One of the animatronics jerked back.

But the candy floss kept coming.

It hit Mezzo first, splattering across his arms and chest, instantly hardening into sticky bands that pinned his elbows to his sides.

“Get it off!”

Celeste lunged toward him.

The planet dog’s ring whipped forward and flung another mass straight into her.

It hit her across the shoulders and face like a net.

She gasped, stumbled, and then more of it came—layer upon layer, winding around her arms, waist, ankles, pulling tighter each time she struggled.

Mezzo roared and thrashed.

The candy floss only cinched harder.

Within seconds it had wrapped both of them in thick pastel strands.

A cocoon.

Celeste could still hear herself breathing.

Could still hear Mezzo swearing in panic beside her.

Then even that went muffled.

Outside the restaurant, Lumina heard the scream first.

She looked up sharply. “Celeste?”

Then came the crash.

Carys swore and ran for the doors, Lumina right behind her.

They burst inside just in time to see the stage lights strobing wildly, the animatronics twitching in jerky, cheerful little spasms, and two huge candy-floss cocoons hanging from the framework near the stage like grotesque festival decorations.

One cocoon thrashed violently.

The other gave a weaker shimmer of gold light from inside.

Lumina’s face crumpled.

“Celeste!”

She tried to run forward, but Carys grabbed her by the arm.

“Wait—”

Candy floss began to spill toward them across the floor.

Crawling.

It seeped over the tiles in thick pink and blue ribbons, curling around chair legs, climbing table edges, dragging itself forward like spun sugar with a pulse.

Lumina struggled against Carys’s grip. “My sister’s in there!”

“I know.”

“Let go!”

The restaurant doors slammed shut behind them with a metallic bang.

Lumina screamed.

Carys spun, eyes darting around the room, looking for another way out. The front doors were sealed. The stage curtains twitched. The animatronic star-cat turned its glittering eyes toward them and smiled wider than anything had a right to smile.

Somewhere near the claw machine, something small shifted.

They didn’t see it.

Their eyes were locked on Celeste and Mezzo.

A tiny black-and-white shape ducked behind the prize counter, trembling but silent.

The candy floss surged closer.

Carys made the decision in half a heartbeat.

She seized Lumina properly around the waist and hauled her back.

“No!”

Lumina kicked, sobbing. “No, no, no! Celeste! Celeste!”

“We are leaving.”

“I won’t leave her!”

“You are not dying in here!”

The candy floss snapped at them like a living net.

Carys dragged Lumina toward the side exit, slamming her shoulder into the emergency door. It stuck for one awful second, then gave with a rusty shriek.

Lumina twisted in her grip, reaching back toward the stage. “Celeste!”

Inside the restaurant, the animatronics’ music-box tune grew louder.

Crueller.

The door jerked open just wide enough for Carys to force them through.

Lumina fought her the whole way.

“Celeste!”

Carys pulled her into the corridor and stumbled backward. The side door slammed shut behind them.

For one breath, there was silence.

Then candy floss began to seep under the door.

A thin pink strand at first.

Then more.

Lumina stared at it in horror, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Carys’s grip tightened around her wrist.

“Run.”

“But Bonbon—”

Carys’s face went pale.

She looked back toward the sealed restaurant.

For the first time, she realised the little panda wasn’t with them.

“Bonbon?” Lumina whispered.

From inside the restaurant, something clattered.

Then the candy floss surged harder beneath the door.

Carys swallowed, horror flickering across her face.

“We have to get help.”

“No! We can’t leave them!”

“We have to get help,” Carys repeated, voice cracking now. “Lumina, move!”

She dragged Lumina into a run.

Their footsteps echoed through the dead mall as they fled back toward the escalators, Lumina screaming for her sister, while the warbling mall music played on above them like nothing terrible had happened at all.

Behind the sealed doors of Galaxy Grub, the music box tune slowed.

The animatronics twitched back toward the stage.

The candy floss tightened around its prisoners.

And beneath the prize counter, Bonbon held both paws over her mouth, eyes wide and wet, trying very hard not to make a sound.