In Talis Tasty Treats Bakery , some hours before it was destroyed
---
Zoren's gaze dropped to the half-eaten loaf in front of him. He picked at the crust, suddenly distant.
"It started… weird," he said. "The Dungeon didn't try to kill us outright, like the stories say. No acid pits, no collapsing floors. Instead, we met someone—something. A spirit named Ryan."
"Ryan?" Nyssa frowned. "The spirit of the Dungeon was named Ryan?"
"I know," Zoren muttered. "Sounds like a guy who manages a tea shop, not an ancient illusionary entity. He even served us tea. Two kinds, actually."
"Let me guess," Linda said dryly. "Spiked with fear and existential dread?"
"Basically." Zoren chuckled once, hollowly. "He said we were too weak. Too kind. So he gave us the Trial of Fear first."
Talis raised an eyebrow. "What, like, spiders and tax audits?"
Zoren didn't laugh. His tone grew heavier. "It made us confront what we feared most. But it wasn't just seeing the fear—it was living it. Over and over. Some of us cried. Some nearly broke."
Nyssa's fingers tightened around her cup.
"But we pushed through," he continued. "And after that… Ryan changed. He said we weren't completely hopeless. He taught us about Ether, about Cores. Said it was unusual for a dungeon spirit to teach anything—that they usually can't. But he could. And he said we'd meet again."
Doctor Drey stirred his tea. "That's… concerning."
"Tell me about it," Zoren muttered. "Then came the physical trial. Illusions again, but this time… they fought back. Hard. Everything hurt. Bruises felt real. Cuts felt real. Franklin got launched like a potato through a wall."
"Sounds about right," Nyssa mumbled.
Zoren's gaze darkened.
"And then came the last trial. The one I hate most. The one I still hear when I close my eyes."
He exhaled. The warmth in the bakery air seemed to retreat.
"There were three doors. Called the Doors of Madness. You had to choose. Behind each one was either your future… or your past… or a future where you never had a Core."
The room stilled.
Zoren's voice shook. "I saw… her. My mother. Through her eyes. Through her pain. I felt what she felt. Saw the man who killed her."
He closed his eyes.
"A Titan Hunter. From the Federation."
Linda's hand froze over her plate. Talis stopped chewing.
"I was just a baby," Zoren whispered. "She died protecting me. And I couldn't do anything."
His fists clenched.
"I didn't even know what was happening" Zoren said while his core flared . His dark Veilborn Core started devouring the chair he was sitting in, like it was hungry. Light Core flared with something colder. Sharper. Everyone stepped back. They couldn't breathe. His core wanted to destroy everything. His emotions were manipulating his Cores.
Nyssa reached over, placing her good hand over his clenched fist.
He flinched—but didn't pull away.
"I'm going to find him," Zoren said, low and clear. "The Titan Hunter who killed my mother. I don't care what rank he is. I will find him."
The silence afterward was heavy. Like fog you could chew.
Talis set his tray down quietly. Linda's expression was unreadable, but her jaw was tight. Drey didn't sip his tea—just stared into the cup like it might offer a solution.
Nyssa met his gaze.
Not with pity.
With fire.
"Then we'll help you."
Zoren looked up.
She didn't blink.
"No one should face this kind of rage alone."
Zoren leaned back just slightly, but his gaze didn't leave Nyssa.
Then—he swiveled his head toward Doctor Drey like a slow-turning storm cloud.
"Explain her injury," Zoren said, voice calm. Too calm.
Drey blinked, mid-sip. "Hmm?"
Zoren's fingers tapped the wooden table. "The sling. The burns. The fact that she winced when she sat. Explain it, doc."
Nyssa gave him a look. "Zoren—"
"Nope," he snapped, eyes still on Drey. "I was hallucinating my dead mother, my chairs were getting eaten, and this woman was fighting gods or demons or both, apparently. I deserve a full report."
Linda raised a finger. "To be fair, she did jump off a roof while on fire."
Nyssa groaned. "Linda, stop helping."
Drey exhaled like he was dealing with toddlers and taxes.
"Alright, alright," he said, setting his teacup down. "Her injuries were from a concentrated Ether blast. Not a regular one, either. It was jagged. Dirty. Designed to tear more than burn."
He stood up, hands behind his back like some half-bored professor.
"Whoever hit her… either had their Core tampered with—"
"Tampered?" Zoren interrupted. "Like how?"
"Like experimental-grade tampering. Federation-lab-style." Drey's eyes narrowed. "Or… my knowledge is about a decade out of date and kids these days just blow people up better."
There was a beat of silence.
Talis blinked. "...Can I vote for the second one?"
Linda nodded. "Honestly, my little friend that I made in the city burned down a shed just sneezing too hard. These new Cores come pre-broken."
Nyssa sighed and crossed her arms. "I didn't lose the fight. I got surprised, and redirected the blast so Zoren could escape."
Zoren looked like someone had just told him soup could be evil. "You got Ether-blasted. For me."
She arched a brow. "You're acting like I didn't throw a flour sack at a Titan Federation hunter once for you."
"That was different! That was funny. This is—you know—burny!"
Talis slowly raised a sign from behind the counter. It read in very neat cursive: "Please do not yell about death or fire in the bread shop."
Zoren took a breath and looked at Drey again.
"So… someone either messed with their Core, or you're out of date?"
Drey nodded sagely. "Yes. Either they are terrifyingly advanced. Or I'm washed."
Nyssa tilted her head. "You sure you're not both?"
Drey gave a tiny smirk. "Touché."
Zoren sighed, leaned back, and rubbed his face. "So someone out there has illegal Core enhancements strong enough to punch through illusion-trained fighters, dodge Titan Council scouts, and injure Nyssa—Nyssa—like she's a side character."
Linda squinted. "Wait, are we side characters?"
"Shut up, Linda."
The group shared a quiet beat—equal parts worry, confusion, and sugar crash.
Then Zoren sat up, fire returning to his eyes.
"Well, if they messed with their Core," he said, voice low, "then they've already broken the rules. Which means I don't have to play fair either."
He stood up.
Nyssa blinked. "Where are you going?"
Zoren turned back, eyes gleaming with trouble.
"To get a second chair."
Everyone: "...?"
"My dark Core ate this first one."
The warmth of the bakery returned.
Talis hummed happily while slicing a loaf of honeybread.
Nyssa leaned her head on her unbandaged hand, quietly sipping her tea.
Linda was mid-rant about how chairs shouldn't be edible no matter how angry a Core is.
Zoren was trying to argue that the chair technically started it.
And Drey, of course, was calmly taking his tea like a war criminal.
It was peaceful.
Too peaceful.
That's when Zoren felt it.
A strange prickle in the air—like lightning with stage fright.
Nyssa blinked. "...Does anyone else feel that?"
Zoren stood slowly, brows furrowed. "Wait… that energy…"
Talis froze mid-bread slice. His eyes widened like a man who just spotted a wasp in his soup.
He dropped the loaf.
"EVERYONE DOWN—"
He pointed to the window.
"ETHER GRENADE INCOMING!!"
Everyone screamed—some with dignity, others… less so.
Linda shrieked and dove under the table like a feral raccoon. Nyssa tried to pull her down but flinched, clutching her bandaged arm. Drey turned so fast he yeeted his spoon at the incoming threat purely on instinct.
Zoren's eyes blazed. "LIGHT TECHNIQUE—!"
He stepped forward, arms wide.
"PROTECTION DOME!!"
His light Core surged like a mini sun.
A blinding flash burst outward—light wrapping around the room like golden armor. The air cracked. A radiant dome of translucent brilliance formed mid-air, wrapping around everyone like a celestial forcefield.
BOOM!!!
The outside world erupted.
Glass shattered. Flames licked the edges of the shield. Smoke filled the air.
But within the dome—silence.
Peace.
Linda, now upside-down under a table leg, blinked. "...Are we dead?"
Zoren grunted, one knee down, holding the dome with both hands. His arms trembled with effort.
"Not yet… but this shield isn't gonna hold long—!"
On the other side, Drey had shielded Nyssa with his coat and body, despite being pelted with debris. His eyes narrowed.
"She's my patient," he muttered. "You don't break your own projects!"
Nyssa blinked at him. "That's… not comforting, Drey!"
Talis, in a very professional panic, was crawling toward the back of the shop with two cinnamon buns stuffed in his pocket and one in his mouth.
"Z-Zoren!" he stammered. "Who in the crusty name of bread crust is attacking us?!"
Zoren grit his teeth. "That's what I'm about to find out—!"
Outside the light dome, silhouettes began to move.
Dozens of them.
Dark robes. Sharp spears. Glowing tattoos on their arms pulsing with ether energy.
Talis peeked out and nearly fainted.
"Oh great. It the titan Council officers."
Linda screamed. "Why are cultists always so punctual!?"
Zoren's eyes sharpened.
"Let them come."
He stood tall, his light Core flaring brighter.
"I've got enough chairs to throw at all of them."
---
The dome shattered.
Like a popped soap bubble made of divine energy, Zoren's shield fizzled into the smoky air.
Flames licked the ceiling. The windows were gone. A chunk of bread flew past Drey's face like a lost meteor.
Talis stood dramatically on the remains of his countertop, eyes narrowed behind his cracked flour-dusted glasses.
He held a loaf of burnt sourdough like it was a fallen comrade.
"We need to MOVE."
Linda coughed. "What about the bread?!"
Talis didn't flinch.
"Forget the bread."
Everyone gasped.
Even the cultists outside paused for a moment, as if they too felt the weight of those words.
Zoren's jaw dropped. "You never say forget the bread."
Nyssa limped forward. "You're really serious, huh?"
Talis turned to them, the flames behind him flickering like an anime boss reveal.
"That was the Black Ember Squad."
Everyone blinked.
"…The what now?" Linda squeaked.
Talis pointed to the advancing figures—tall, cloaked, tattooed, and very much not here for breadsticks.
"Elite enforcers of the Titan Council. Burn cities. Melt Titans. Drink soup out of skulls. Total psychos."
Zoren growled. "What are they doing here?"
"No time to chat!" Talis whipped out two smoke bombs from his apron like a man who played too much ninja in his youth. "We escape left, then sharp right, then climb two rooftops and jump into old Mrs. Pindle's cabbage cart. GO GO GO!"
He flung the bombs.
POOF! Smoke everywhere.
The squad bolted through the smoke cloud like kids who just stole cake and were 99% sure the baker was an ex-assassin.
Zoren burst through the smoke, carrying Linda over one shoulder like a squeaky sack of flour. "WHY do you own smoke bombs?!"
Talis huffed beside him. "You try running a bakery in this economy without combat tools!"
Nyssa hopped beside them, supported by Drey, who looked mildly annoyed the whole time.
"Why are we heading toward the market?!" she barked.
"Because the cabbage cart has wheels!" Talis shouted like that made perfect sense.
Then—
A blur.
Footsteps.
Someone else running through the alley.
Three figures.
Ducking. Sprinting. Covered in soot.
Ivar and aiden pendrol and Franklin.
"HEY!" Zoren shouted.
The trio skidded to a halt.
Franklin looked like a potato that had seen war. Aiden was holding a glowing dagger in one hand and a chicken leg in the other. Ivar was just silently trying not to pass out.
Talis pointed at them dramatically.
"DID YOU JUST BLOW UP MY BAKERY?!"
Franklin dropped to his knees in the middle of the alley.
"WE SWEAR IT WASN'T US!"
He clutched the hem of Talis's apron.
"We just dodged an Ether grenade! It landed where your oven used to be, I swear on my mother's soup!"
Talis squinted. "Which oven? The sourdough oven or the croissant kiln?!"
"THE ONE WITH THE TARTS!!" Franklin screamed.
Zoren, who was now holding both Linda and a confused cat that got scooped in the escape, blinked. "Wait. So you weren't trying to blow us up?"
Aiden snorted. "Blow you up? We were trying to escape those nutjobs! One of them had a fire hawk on a leash!"
Ivar muttered, barely audible. "There were three grenades. I stepped on a guy's lunch."
Drey deadpanned, "That explains nothing and raises more questions."
Suddenly—
Another boom behind them.
They all turned.
A flaming barrel bounced down the alley.
Everyone screamed again.
Talis turned mid-run. "Alright, you three idiots are with us now!"
Franklin blinked. "Wait, what? We are?"
Talis yelled, "YES! Welcome to Team Run-Or-Be-Toasted! Now MOVE YOUR SOOTY LEGS!"
And with that—
Eight mismatched people, ran together into the night.
---
Crackle. Cinders floated like fiery snowflakes. Smoke wafted off the once wholesome haven of cinnamon rolls and sarcasm.
A boot crushed a burnt cookie with finality.
Captain Vexx, of the Black Ember Squad, stood where the counter used to be. He glared at a smoldering teacup like it had insulted his haircut.
"...He was here."
A younger squadmate blinked. "Zoren?"
"The same," Vexx growled. "One of the Six Survivors of the Dungeon of Illusion. The council said they all lost them when on the chase after them."
"Why would a survivor of that place be hiding in a bakery with paper hats?" muttered Rok, his face half-covered in soot. "And... why were there jelly-filled croissants?"
They all shuddered.
One soldier held up a singed name tag that read: "Hello! My name is Zozzy!"
Vexx exhaled, and the flames nearby dimmed.
Then—BZZZT! Their crystal comm flared violently.
"Titan Council Priority Transmission: Division Head—Lyxen of the Outer Ring."
Everyone stiffened.
Vexx dropped to one knee.
"Commander Vexx reporting. We've sighted Zoren. He's alive and surrounded by high-value fugitives. Requesting permission to engage—"
"Denied."
The voice was dry as parchment, as if the speaker hadn't blinked in a century.
"...Sir?"
"Zoren is no longer to be engaged. That one is beyond your clearance. I repeat: do NOT pursue the Light-Dark core bearer."
The squad traded uneasy glances.
Vexx's brows furrowed. "Respectfully, this is a rare opening—he's unguarded, the area's contained—"
"Contain yourself, Captain."
"We have a new priority."
"Locate and retrieve the one called Franklin, ivar and aiden pendrol."
The crystal pulsed red.
"Alive."
Even the birds in the wreckage seemed to stop chirping.
"...Franklin?" Rok asked slowly. "You mean those guys who cannonballed through a bakery wall while yelling 'I REGRET NOTHING!'?"
Celine whispered, "Didn't they steal a cinnamon bun and cry because it was too hot?"
Vexx's eye twitched.
"Confirm identity: Franklin Scorch, aiden and ivar Pendrol.Suspected scroll theives.
"Wait... THOSE Guys the other from
the dugeon of Illusion survivors?!"
"Yes. They must be taken alive. If he dies… so do all of you."
BZZZT. The call cut.
Silence.
Even the wind gave up.
One of the squad member finally said it: "We're not the elite villains anymore, are we?"
Vexx groaned, dragging a hand down his face.
"We're hunting a muffin thief with apocalyptic lore. This day is cursed."
He spun around, pointing dramatically.
"FIND. THE. SCROLL-SNATCHING LUNATICS."
---
To be continued