The door was shut.

Properly shut.

Not stuck. Not jammed. Not something Celeste could shoulder open if she was stubborn enough.

Locked.

Sealed.

Alive with pink and blue candy-floss mana that pulsed every time she struck it.

Celeste slammed both paws against the door. “Bonbon!”

Inside the dark room, Bonbon stood frozen among broken props, dusty ribbons, and fallen cardboard stars. Her cheeks were wet. One paw still clutched the useless scissors.

“Cece,” Bonbon whimpered through the dark.

Celeste’s heart cracked.

“I’m here,” she said quickly, pressing her forehead to the door. “Cece’s here. You’re not alone.”

Behind her, the Candy Floss Twins’ voices floated down the corridor in horrible sing-song.

“Tiny bear has had her turn…”

Sour Puff sighed. “Now we’ll see what babies learn.”

Celeste spun around, horror flashing through her.

“No.” Her voice sharpened. “No, don’t you dare.”

Sweet Fluff giggled from somewhere unseen. “Little paws were very bad…”

Sour Puff’s gloomy voice followed. “Sneaking made the puppets sad.”

“She’s a baby!” Celeste shouted. “She doesn’t understand your games!”

Inside the room, Bonbon pressed both paws to the door, frightened by Celeste’s tone even if she didn’t understand every word.

Celeste forced her voice softer at once. “It’s all right, sweetheart. I’m not cross with you. I’m not cross.”

The room lights flickered.

Bonbon turned sharply.

The walls behind her began to dissolve into silver mist.

“No!” Celeste hit the door again, harder this time. “Bonbon, listen to me! Stay by the door!”

Bonbon’s little face crumpled. “Cece!”

Celeste grabbed the handle and pulled until her arms shook. Her core burned beneath her ribs, hot and bright, but the lock held.

The Twins began to sing.

“Find the song and find the scent,
find the face that comfort meant.”

Celeste’s blood ran cold.

Inside the room, the mist rose around Bonbon’s ankles.

“Bonbon!” Celeste screamed.

The little panda reached for the handle.

Then the room vanished.

And Bonbon vanished with it.

She woke on soft grass.

For a moment, she thought she had fallen asleep outside the Egg Tree.

But the sky above her was too dark.

Too full of stars.

Too close.

She sat up slowly.

All around her stretched a dreamy nursery garden floating in space. The grass was soft like blanket fluff beneath her paws. Moonlit flowers opened and closed as if breathing. Tiny lanterns shaped like music boxes drifted through the air, turning lazily while they played little chiming notes.

Giant stuffed animals sat silently beneath silver trees.

A rabbit.

A fox.

A cat.

A dragon.

All watching.

Rocking chairs moved by themselves on a little path of white stones.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

The air was warm.

It carried a scent Bonbon almost knew.

Something soft.

Something safe.

Something that made her chest hurt.

Bonbon stood, clutching the safety scissors to her front.

“Mam?” she whispered.

At the centre of the garden was a little cottage pavilion made of lace, moonlight, and candy floss. Its curtains breathed in the wind. Inside, barely visible, was a cradle.

Bonbon knew without knowing how that her mother was there.

If she could reach the cradle, she would find her.

A little sign rose from the grass in storybook letters.

FIND THE SONG.
FIND THE SCENT.
FIND THE FACE THAT COMFORT MEANT.

Bonbon stared at the words.

She couldn’t read all of them.

But the garden whispered them for her.

The music-box lanterns chimed.

A humming drifted through the trees.

Bonbon’s ears lifted.

She knew that song.

Maybe.

Almost.

She ran toward it.

The pavilion shifted farther away.

Bonbon stopped.

The humming slipped from her mind like water through her paws.

“No,” she whispered.

A rocking chair moved beneath a silver willow.

Someone sat in it.

A soft shape.

Gentle arms.

A bowed head.

Bonbon gasped and ran toward it.

“Mam!”

The shape looked up.

It was only a doll.

Its painted eyes blinked.

Bonbon stumbled back.

The stuffed animals turned their heads.

All at once.

“Beth oedd ei chân?” they whispered.

What was her song?

Bonbon’s lower lip trembled.

She backed away, clutching the scissors tighter.

A warm scent floated past her again.

Fur.

Soap.

Milk.

Home.

Bonbon chased it through the flowers, but the moment she reached it, the scent changed into cold sugar air.

She froze.

“Na…”

The garden dimmed.

A voice whispered behind her.

“Bonbon…”

Bonbon spun.

The stuffed animals stared.

“Bonbon…”

The voice was loving.

Almost right.

Wrong enough to hurt.

Bonbon pressed one paw to her mouth.

Her breathing grew fast.

The flowers nearest her began to wilt, petals curling inward.

The music boxes drifted closer, their tunes bending out of shape.

Bonbon squeezed her eyes shut and began to sing.

Very softly.

“Cwsg yn dawel, seren fach…”

Her voice shook.

But the flowers stopped wilting.

The lanterns stilled.

The stuffed animals paused.

The shadows softened around their edges.

Bonbon opened her eyes.

For one second, the humming came back.

Just one second.

A woman’s laugh.

Warm arms.

The feeling of being held against someone’s chest.

Then it faded again.

Bonbon sobbed.

“No… dw i’n trio…”

I’m trying.

The pavilion seemed closer now.

Bonbon ran toward it, singing under her breath.

“Golau’r lloer uwch dy ben bach…”

The cradle waited inside.

The curtains lifted.

The rocking chair in the pavilion moved.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

Someone sat there.

This time, the shape looked right.

Soft arms opened.

A familiar smile.

Bonbon’s whole face lit with desperate hope.

“Mam!”

She ran into the pavilion and threw herself forward.

But the closer she got, the more the face blurred.

The smile shifted.

The eyes changed.

The voice came wrong.

“If you loved me enough, you’d remember.”

Bonbon stopped dead.

The false mother tilted her head.

“Don’t you know me anymore?”

Bonbon shook her head, tears spilling faster. “Dw i’n gwybod… dw i’n gwybod chi…”

I know you.

The false mother’s arms remained open.

“Then come here.”

Bonbon took one step.

The face blurred again.

“Why are you forgetting me?”

Bonbon let out a tiny broken sound.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered in Welsh. “Mae’n ddrwg gen i… dw i ddim eisiau anghofio…”

I don’t want to forget.

The garden darkened.

The music boxes began to chime faster.

The stuffed animals whispered from the grass.

“What was her voice?”

“What did she smell like?”

“What was her laugh?”

“What if it’s gone?”

“What if you forget?”

Bonbon clapped both paws over her ears.

The scissors fell into the grass.

The cradle moved farther away.

She ran toward it anyway.

The path stretched.

The flowers lost their scent.

The lullaby twisted out of tune.

The false mother stood beside the cradle now, face still blurred, arms open and empty.

“Come on, Bonbon,” she said in that wrong-soft voice. “If you remember, you can come home.”

Bonbon sobbed harder.

“I can’t,” she cried. “Dw i ddim yn gallu…”

The stuffed animals leaned closer.

“What was her song?”

Bonbon tried to sing.

Her voice broke.

“Cwsg… yn… dawel…”

The garden shuddered.

The shadows softened for a moment, but not enough.

The pavilion began to crumble at the edges.

Bonbon staggered to the cradle.

She reached for it.

The lid would not open.

“No, no, no…”

She pushed harder.

The cradle stayed shut.

The false mother sighed.

“If you forget even one piece of me, then I’m really gone.”

Bonbon froze.

Her tiny paws pressed against the cradle.

Her whole body shook.

Then she curled beside it, arms wrapped around one of the stuffed animals that had fallen near her. She tucked her face against its soft belly and cried.

“Dw i ddim eisiau anghofio Mam,” she whispered. “Plîs…”

I don’t want to forget Mum.

Her song came out in broken pieces.

“Cwsg yn dawel… seren fach…”

Celeste heard it.

Not with her ears at first.

With her core.

A tiny thread of song moving through the walls, soft and shaking, winding through the candy-floss maze like a little hand reaching out in the dark.

She stopped running.

“Bonbon?”

The corridor around her shifted. Doors appeared and vanished. Curtains of candy floss breathed from the ceiling. Behind her, distant laughter echoed from the Twins, and from the main stage came the strained creak of puppet strings pulling her friends tighter.

But the song was still there.

Tiny.

Welsh.

Terrified.

Celeste followed it.

She turned left where the corridor wanted her to go right. She pushed through a curtain of blue floss that stuck to her sleeves. She ducked beneath hanging planets and shoved past a door painted with smiling moons.

The song grew louder.

“Cwsg yn dawel…”

Celeste’s core burned brighter.

The walls trembled.

She found another door.

Small.

White.

Carved with flowers and stars.

No handle.

Only a keyhole shaped like a cradle.

Celeste slammed both paws against it. “Bonbon!”

The door did not open.

Inside, through a misty little window, Celeste saw the nursery garden.

Saw the moonlit flowers.

Saw the closed cradle.

Saw Bonbon curled on the grass, crying into a stuffed animal.

Celeste’s throat closed.

“Oh, sweetheart.”

Bonbon looked up.

Her wet eyes widened.

“Cece!”

Celeste pressed both paws to the glass. “I’m here. I’m here, darling.”

Bonbon scrambled toward the window, but the garden stretched, keeping her small body far away.

The false mother stood behind her.

Celeste saw the blurred face.

The open arms.

The wrongness.

Her core flared so hot the window fogged with gold.

“No,” Celeste said, voice shaking with fury. “You don’t get to do that to her.”

The false mother smiled.

Bonbon turned back toward the cradle, sobbing. “Dw i ddim yn cofio’n iawn…”

Celeste’s breath caught.

“What?”

Bonbon pressed both paws to her chest.

“Dw i ddim yn cofio Mam yn iawn.”

I can’t remember Mum properly.

Celeste’s eyes filled instantly.

The door between them pulsed.

Still shut.

Still keeping them apart.

Celeste leaned her forehead against it.

“That’s all right,” she whispered.

Bonbon shook her head hard. “Na. Na, os dw i’n anghofio… mae hi’n mynd…”

No, if I forget, she goes.

Celeste’s heart broke cleanly.

“No, sweetheart. No.” She pressed one glowing paw to the glass. “Forgetting pieces doesn’t mean you loved her less.”

Bonbon cried harder.

The garden whispered again.

“What was her voice?”

“What was her scent?”

“What was her face?”

Bonbon curled into herself.

Celeste hit the door with her shoulder.

Once.

Twice.

The lock burned blue and pink.

The Twins’ mana.

Celeste’s core answered gold.

The third strike cracked the door.

The false mother’s head snapped toward her.

Celeste drew in a breath and pushed her glowing paw into the crack.

It hurt.

The mana bit into her skin like ice and sugar glass, but she shoved anyway.

“I’m coming,” she said.

The door burst open.

Celeste stumbled through into the Sleeping Nursery in Space.

The moment she crossed the threshold, the garden turned on her.

Stuffed animals stood.

Music boxes shrieked.

Moonlit flowers snapped shut like teeth.

The false mother lifted a hand.

Celeste ignored all of it.

She ran straight to Bonbon and dropped to her knees beside her.

Bonbon threw herself into Celeste’s arms.

“Cece!”

Celeste gathered her close, holding her tight enough that the little panda could feel her heartbeat.

“I’ve got you,” Celeste whispered. “I’ve got you.”

Bonbon shook violently against her.

“I forgot,” she sobbed. “Dw i wedi anghofio.”

“No.” Celeste stroked her head. “You remembered enough to sing.”

Bonbon hiccupped.

“The song found me. You found me.”

The false mother’s voice turned cold. “She forgot me.”

The garden went silent.

Bonbon clutched her dress. “Beth os mae hi’n diflannu?”

What if she disappears?

Celeste looked down at her.

Her own voice broke.

“Then I’ll stay.”

Bonbon went still.

Celeste held her closer.

“I’m not replacing her. We will find her. I won’t ask you to forget her. But you don’t have to sit in the empty place alone.”

Bonbon sobbed into her chest.

Celeste began to hum.

She did not know the song properly.

Not all the words.

Not the old rhythm.

But she hummed with Bonbon anyway, gentle and uneven, following where the little panda led.

Bonbon sang in tiny broken pieces.

Celeste hummed beside her.

Slowly, the garden softened.

The music boxes went quiet.

The stuffed animals sat down.

The moonlit flowers opened again.

The false mother’s blurred face flickered.

For one second, something warmer passed through it.

Not a full memory.

Not a recovered face.

Just a feeling.

Safe.

Loved.

Held.

Then the false mother dissolved into silver light.

The cradle closed gently.

No declaration.

No victory sign.

No cheering.

The nursery simply stopped hurting them.

A door opened in the grass.

Celeste stood with Bonbon in her arms.

Bonbon did not let go.

“I’ve got you,” Celeste whispered again.

Then she stepped through.

They landed back in the corridor outside the playroom.

Celeste staggered, still clutching Bonbon tight.

The Twins shrieked.

Not laughed.

Shrieked.

Sweet Fluff’s cheerful voice cracked into something sharp and furious.

“No, no, no, naughty light!”

Sour Puff’s gloomy voice twisted with pain. “Sleeping princess burns too bright!”

Candy-floss ropes shot from the ceiling toward Bonbon.

Celeste turned, shielding her with her whole body.

“No!”

The ropes hit the golden light around Celeste’s core and recoiled as if burned.

The Twins screamed again.

The ropes smoked, curling back into the ceiling.

Sweet Fluff clutched her pink candy-floss paws to her face. “The sleeping princess is stopping us!”

Sour Puff hissed, blue floss writhing. “We must think of another plan.”

Celeste held Bonbon tighter.

Bonbon buried her face in Celeste’s shoulder, trembling, one tiny paw gripping the lace of her dress.

Behind them, the playroom lights dimmed.

The stage curtains drew themselves shut.

The music-box tune stopped.

For one terrible second, there was silence.

Then a new sound began.

A deep mechanical rumble beneath the floor.

The last game was waking.