A fimiliar energy, prickled against my skin. Not magic, unless there's magic in the razor's edge between life and death. It was the feeling of my jelly squirming within me, a straining for action. A frantic strength that came disguised as a feeling of weakness.

I twisted, letting my bag fall to the ground. I didn't need the extra weight if we were going to be running, or fighting.

The grotesque leviathan was halfway to the central chamber, its whole body skimming across the surface of the water, only its tail still submerged as it whipped back and forth, propelling that terror forwards.

I turned to run, but Old Biscuit was making no effort to escape. He'd dropped to one knee, facing down the onrushing monster.

"Better stay outta the way of this, partner."

He pressed his hands together, one gingerbread, the other the prosthetic. The crystal in his chest became star-bright, and as he slowly pulled his hands apart, the space between them became filled by dancing motes of light.

I hopped to the side then moved behind him, wary of what he was doing, reading it as some kind of attack.

Old Biscuit began to reverse the motion, pushing his hands together, straining against the pressure of the energy. The ball of swirling motes began to get smaller and smaller, compressing down to a single point of brilliant light, held in his closed hands, but so bright and piercing that it was visible through them.

Finally the light slipped from his hands, spraying out towards Guppy in a solid cone of golden fire. The chamber went white, and the swirling maelstrom below us seemed to momentarily still in the flicker of that harsh light.

Even standing behind Old Biscuit I felt the backlash wash over me, a wave of baking heat that left my skin feeling dry and stretched.

The Guppy tried to avoid the blast by slapping its tail against the water and propelling itself upwards, but Old Biscuit must have anticipated the move, as the cone caught it head on, at the height of its jump.

Guppy lit up like it was made of glass. Its flesh shone black, its bones visible inside its body.

A moment later the beam of golden light vanished, though the air it had occupied was still glowing slightly. There was a splash from the far tunnel as Guppy dropped back below the water.

Old Biscuit climbed to his feet, lifting my bag and hanging it back over me. He pulled on his own pack and, slapping my side, said, "Now, we run."

Now we run? How much of it can be left to run from?

I tried to beat out a five-tap stuccatto, but Old Biscuit wasn't listening. He grabbed my arm, pulling me into a slow jog as he set off.

A wave of mist washed out the chamber behind us, overtaking us – water flash-boiled by the unfocused glare of Old Biscuit's Gingerlight.

Old Biscuit jogged along in the lead, and trailing behind rankled on me.

Fine. If we are to run, let me show you how it's done.

I stopped holding back, beating the ground with my feet as fast as I could move my legs. Old Biscuit fell behind me so quickly that he might as well have been standing still.

Some distance behind us, a pair of grotesque green eyes appeared, glowing in the mist. Old Biscuit began pivoting occasionally, casting bursts of golden light back at it, though they were weaker than the one he'd used in the chamber, less focused.

"Somethin's wrong," he shouted as he ran. "Things got'n stronger. Shouldn't be this fast. Shouldn'ta got better so quick."

That meant little to me. The old gingerbread man hadn't even appraised me of the beast's existence, let alone given me an overview of its abilities.

Some things I could guess on my own. The fact it had survived Old Biscuit's attack told me it was no ordinary animal. Was this one of the nameless things OB had mentioned when we met?

Despite the size and speed of the creature, I thought the distance gave us a measure of safety. That illusion was dispelled when I saw the glint of metal projectiles flying towards us out of the mist. Three fish hooks, moving as fast as arrows and trailing long lines behind them.

One of them flew over my head, then descended in an arc that would bring the barbed point directly in my path.

I managed to whip my foot around in a circular kick and sent it flying off into the water beside me, but the other two hooks had targeted Old Biscuit. They fell down in front of him, catching on his shoulder and his leg. He was yanked off his feet with a shout, flying backwards into the mist.

I tried to stopped immediately, leaning back and jabbing the points of my feet into the ground. I skidded along the walkway, scraping a line down its surface a dozen inches long before I came to a stop.

I turned, and began sprinting in the direction Old Biscuit had been pulled. I could still hear him shouting, mostly inarticulate yelling, but at one point I heard a desperate "Dough boy!"

Not my name, old man.

The sound of shouting grew closer, and soon I caught sight of Guppy, its tail swishing back and forth, its two thick front fins propelling it forward on a trail of slippery slime it seemed to be creating to slide along the dry walkway.

Old Biscuit's upper half was hanging out of its mouth, shouting up a storm.

I'd caught up, but now I was at a loss. How did one fight an enormous leviathan?

I put on a burst of speed, hopping up and running along the wall next to the fish, trying to get out in front of it. As I drew up alongside, one of its luminous green eyes spun up and looked at me.

I stretched out my leg and tried to poke it in its eye.

Guppy flinched away, then threw itself at me, hitting me with a body slam that crushed me into the wall, and because of the speed we were going, half grated me against the brickwork.

I fell out behind the fish, tumbling and rolling to a stop. The collision with the beast had left my entire body feeling like a giant bruise, and the brickwork had left me covered with dozens of scratches, each one slowly oozing bright red jelly.

I could still hear Old Biscuit shouting, distantly now. I shook my body, then started forward again. I'd survived beasts of land and beasts of air. I would not easily yield to this beast of the sea.

I quickened my pace, running alongside the slime trail the beast used to move along the dry walkway. It took longer for me to catch up with the beast, with its head start, and my battered body slowing me down.

I decided to vary my approach. If I could jump over it, I was sure its eyes would be vulnerable to my kicks, or I could at least help Old Biscuit get free.

I put on a final burst of speed, leaping up onto Guppy's thrashing tail, running up its back, then jumping off, aiming for its head.

It saw me as I was descending, its moss pupils shrinking down to points, and then I landed, dead on target. My pointed foot sank into Guppy's eye like a toothpick skewering an olive.

The eye popped, green gunk shooting in every direction, and the fish began screaming, bucking wildly.

I was thrown off its back, and as I fell behind it swiped me with its tail, knocking me out over the water. I almost panicked, but I let my spin reorient me, then began paddling my feet in the air.

It was a mad idea, but it seemed to pay off. When my feet hit the water they only sank an inch below the surface before I started to rise back out. I was sprinting on top of the water.

Skill Advancement!

Bunrunning has advanced.

[3/3] Bunrunning

Mighty leaps and aerial acrobatics.

Combine movement with attacks and dodges.

Reduced weight while running.

While running, treat ceilings as walls, walls as steep slopes, and liquids as soft solids.

Bunrunning has matured, granting the Puff Body skill.

[1/5] Puff Body

Fly with strong winds.

Fall with feather softness.

I forced my attention away from the angel's whispering, hoping I'd get a chance to self reflect later. I was keeping up with Guppy, who was blind in the eye that would have been able to see me. This may finally be a battle where I had a chance.

I turned, running over the water back towards Guppy, aware that if I slowed even for a moment I'd plunge beneath the surface.

I reached the edge of the water and leaped, aiming to land on its face, but as I closed in through the air Guppy lifted one of its fin limbs, curled the end into a fist, and punched me right in the face. I was sent flying back over the water.

How? How did it see me coming?

As I flew backwards through the air, I saw that the fish's ruined eye had started to heal. Even in the moments I spent airborne it began to reinflate, regenerating from fully destroyed to functional sight in seconds.

I hit the water head-first this time, with no chance to get my feet under me, and I immediately began to sink. Dark water closed over me, blurring and concealing the tunnel.

I felt the sugar being dissolved off my skin, saw streaks of red in the water as jelly from my wounds was diluted and drained away. I finally felt my back bump against the bottom of the channel.

I'd failed. Whatever the fish was, it was more powerful than me, more powerful even than Old Biscuit's terrifying energy. I never really had a chance.

I shifted, kicking up off the bottom and swimming back to the surface. Guppy was long gone, escaped into the mist. I thought I might have been able to hear far distant shouting, but it could have just been my imagination.

I hooked my leg over the edge of the platform to pull myself out, then lay there for a while as my flesh fluffed itself back out and powdered sugar regrew on my skin.

Once I felt up to it I got up and began walking back down the tunnel, back towards Old Biscuit's bunker, lost in thoughts of my failure, my impotence.

I reached the entrance pipe and pulled the gear-door open. I didn't know what I'd been thinking, going after him. I was nothing but a sweet treat. A confection.

My skin was covered in sugar. My flesh was soft and light. I had no business getting into mortal battle with a beast of regenerating flesh and blood.

Perhaps I should learn one more thing from Old Biscuit – his lifestyle. Perhaps I should just hide here in his bunker, taking minimal risks, subsisting off the refuse of the city above.

I pulled the door closed behind me and locked it tight. I shuffled into the chamber and went straight for the sugar bag, pulling it open with my foot, and shoving my head into it.

I felt the tingling warmth of the sugar against my skin immediately. I squirmed around, trying to dig myself deeper, and winced as something caught at my wounds.

The sugar had rubbed at my wounds, triggering fresh a trickle of jelly, spilling slowly out into the bag. The sugar crystals were small, but they were abrasive.

Sweet, but abrasive. Every tiny crystal was like Old Biscuit's ginger heart, hard edged and multifaceted. Sweet, but sharp. Like the sugar I too was coated in.

Sugar. Sharp.

I pulled myself out of the bag and looked around the room. I could feel the gentle energy of the sugar I'd absorbed taking hold, beginning a healing process much slower than OB's Gingerlight, but likely to restore me eventually.

I started making my way over to my pallet, my entire body aching from the fish's body slam. I was lucky in a way that my body was so soft and yielding. I was only bruised, where a harder dessert might have been smashed and broken. I was soft, but that leant me a toughness of its own.

Soft. Strong.

I was about to collapse on the blanket when my attention fell on the small cot. I wandered over to it, and looked down at the jelly bean nestled within. Lemon. Old Biscuit's daughter – an orphan now.

The bean made no move, no sound or expression. It was, in all probability, just a lifeless sweet, its relationship with the old gingerbread man just a product of his own lonely and slightly unhinged mind, but still I couldn't help but project my own feelings onto it.

I remembered what it was like to be immobile, to feel robbed, to look at the world with a fierce bitterness. I felt empathy for an object that likely had no feelings of its own.

Sweet. Bitter.

Is this how I was to live now? Hiding in this hole, so alone that I would start to imagine a family? So directionless I would spend my days crafting furniture?

No.

That simply wasn't who I was. I was a bun, yes, but I had faced down beasts without flinching. I may have been soft, but I had danced with giants at the heart of their power and escaped. I may be just a sweet, tiny thing, but I had blinded a fish that had withstood terrifying power.

My defining moment had been back in the bakery, I realized. When I was in mortal terror and desperate to escape, but I had done so by charging straight at the danger.

I would always find my escape through the eye of the storm. I would pass through fire, and it would only temper me. I was a bun, born in the blaze of an oven, coated in crystal, and filled with a jellied indignation that would never yield.

New Mystery Gained!

Your Mystic Art has been granted.

First power granted.

Confection Paradox (Mystic Art)

[1/3] Glazer Blade

Create blades and spikes of crystal sugar.

I turned away from the crib, looking out across the room as I pondered the angel's words.

Angel, Animus, what have you given me?