I came back to awareness lying face down on the platform. The tunnel had become a sauna, the air thick with steam, the water in the channel swirling and turbulent.

The heat of Old Biscuit's final judgement upon Guppy had seared me, cautarizing the leaking wounds at my sides into scars of crusted jelly, but it had also scorched my back, leaving that entire side browned and crispy.

My blades had been torn away from my body by the force, and lay shattered on the ground in front of me, the white crystal fragments caramelized into a deep toffee brown.

I stood back to my feet and staggered over to one of the shards, then leaned over, touching it to my skin. I had no sense of it. The sugar I'd invested in the blades had been taken beyond my control, either when they were separated from my body, or when they were caramelized by the heat.

There was just enough powdered sugar left on my skin to grow three short spikes, which I used to pick up the ginger crystal from the edge of the platform.

I need respite. I need sugar.

I began stumbling down the tunnel, back towards Old Biscuit's old bunker. I was hopeful that Old Biscuit's dying attack had finished Guppy off, but I wasn't willing to fully believe it.

I found the entrance to the bunker as I'd left it, and pushed my body against the door to roll it open. I staggered down the pipe, robbed of my usual speed by pain and exhaustion.

When I'd first entered Old Biscuit's home, it had seemed like a cosy refuge; a place to rest and spend time, safe and comfortable. Now that he was dead it took on the atmosphere of a trap, or a tomb. A bolt-hole in a labyrinth where a fearsome creature stalked.

My gaze fell on Lemon's crib as I strode tenderly towards the sack of sugar. The little bean was my responsibility now. I'd made that promise, come what may.

I all but threw myself bodily into the sugar sack. Warmth bloomed along the points of contact, and I felt my body begin to absorb the fine white crystals. My back and sides started tingling with the sensations of slow, natural healing, and my skin prickled as powdered sugar began regrowing across its surface.

I directed some of the new powder to my sides, forming a pair of short, spiked batons in place of my previous blades. I waited for the powdered sugar I'd used to be restored before pulling myself out of the sack.

The shoulder-bag Old Biscuit had burdened me with was still on the ground, and it still held the gold coin. That, I should keep, I decided. Money might be important once I was out of the tunnels.

I hooked my batons through the bag's strap and dragged it through the sugar sack, filling it to the brim, then lay it on the ground as I wandered over to the crib.

Lemon lay there, still, silent, and serene. I lifted her up, placing her on Old Biscuit's bed, then carefully wrapped her in the frayed blanket. I placed the bundle containing her in the top of the bag.

Rest peacefully, little bean. I'll see you to safety. I swear it.

Finally I relaxed my grip on the ginger crystal, letting it fall into the bag.

I wondered, as I looked down at it, what it was. How had Old Biscuit imagined I would use it? Might it be able to heal me?

To my surprise there was an answer to my musings, coming to me from the angel of evolution.

Gingerlight Heart (Mystic Remnant)

[1/3] Spice Blast

Call forth beams of searing heat.

It seemed that only one of Old Biscuit's mystic art powers remained within the crystal, the blasts of heat he'd used against Guppy, and a reduced version at that. If I was going to learn how to wield those, I suspected I'd have to wait until the tiny mote of light within the heart had grown back to its old radiance.

Old Biscuit had been something of a scholar, I found, and his home was littered with notes and schematics. Diagrams showed devices made from various breads and pastries, occasionally augmented with nuts, fruit peels, and fondant. I found one sheet with the design he must have used for his artificial arm, as well as other papers with diagrams I couldn't recognize.

I felt it would be a crime to leave his life's work to the ravages of time and moisture, so I began gathering them up, carefully rolling them with the tips of my sugar batons.

He had owned a cigar tube which he'd modified to serve as a scroll case, and I managed to fit the papers inside with only a little difficulty.

I gave the room a final inspection. I had little desire to remain here, in this death trap, this cold bolt-hole.

There was much I couldn't take with me. The furniture, the over-sized books, a lifetime of knic-knacks. It would have to remain here as a memorial to the gingerbread man's life.

I hung the bag containing Lemon across my body, then pulled the scroll case over my shoulder.

I was burdened, but not unbalanced, and I trusted myself to at least make it down the tunnels to the river exit. If there was any chance Guppy had survived, then the luggage would slow me, but I was scarcely in any shape to run anyway.

I used a baton to lift the flap of the bag, checking on Lemon. She looked comfortable and seemed secure, so I dropped the flap and headed for the door.

We left Old Biscuit's old base and began heading towards the distant exit at a walk, my steps still labored, my body still tingling with healing that felt like it might take days to fully restore me.

I made my way past the scorched silhouettes on the walls, each now burdened with a sinister significance. I passed the pipe that hung from the ceiling of the tunnel, still sucking greedily at the water. I began approaching the circle of light that marked the opening of the well, far below the grassy yard, near where my journey started.

Something moved in the circle of light, a shape under the surface.

No!

The surface of the water bulged, then broke. A skeletal form flew upwards out of the water, screaming and thrashing. It was Guppy, reduced to blackened bones and tattered flesh, but still somehow alive, its hollow eye sockets glowing with an eerie green light as it soared into the air.

I turned and started running, for all the good it would do me. My sides still ached, my legs were sluggish.

I was hit by a wall of spray as the Guppy skeleton launched itself past me, skidding to a stop on the platform ahead, cutting me off. It's bare bones clattered against the ground, still oozing lubricating slime. Even now, burned and bare, I could see its remaining flesh stretching and writhing as it tried to regenerate.

We had another moment staring at each other, its hollow eye sockets meeting my smooth featureless face. We weren't even close to being matched. If it could survive the loss of most of its flesh, then nothing I could do would hurt it. My blades couldn't cut bone.

I lifted the flap of my bag. The ginger heart was there, but the light within was too weak. My gaze wandered to Lemon, sitting beside it. If I fell here, what would become of her?

I let the flap fall and faced Guppy. I concentrated on the batons at my side, lengthening them into long stilettos.

I looked around, desperate for an escape. The path ahead of me was blocked, the other led to a race I couldn't possibly win. The only other option was the water. That slowly flowing, swirling channel.

Except the only reason I could tell it was flowing was the turbulence created where a pipe descended into it from the roof of the tunnel. The pipe that was greedily sucking at the water. The pipe that might just be wide enough to fit one bun.

I spared one last glance at Guppy. Tiny eyes had appeared in its scorched sockets, steadily growing as it healed. They showed no hint that it anticipated my next move, or that it could yet see me at all.

I steeled myself and leapt from the platform, flying out over the water, towards the pipe.

Guppy twisted as I jumped, snapping at the air and missing me by less than an inch.

I landed in the water with a tiny splash, bobbing on the surface, and immediately felt the current take hold of my body.

I was slowly being drawn down towards the mouth of the pipe. I was a bun of the land, and I had limited mobility under the water, but by letting myself sink to the bottom of the channel I was able to hop along underwater, maneuvering into position.

When I was directly under the pipe I jumped upwards, feeling the powerful suction taking hold of me and drawing me in.

The sugar on my skin was dissolving in the agitated water, and my stiletto blades were becoming blunt and corroded, but I was escaping.

I flowed upwards into the pipe silently, and felt myself speeding up, moving ever faster as I was sucked along with the flow.

Suddenly I lurched to a stop. Looking around for a cause, I noticed that the section of pipe I was in had narrowed slightly, a short band of reduced girth where two segments of pipe met, leaving me stuck.

I could feel pressure building behind me, the increased weight of water pressing on my already bruised back.

Movement below me at the mouth of the pipe drew my attention. It was Guppy, finding the entrance to the pipe and swimming inside, its lithe, bony body easily adjusting to the narrow passage.

I began sucking my body in as much as I could, wriggling to try and get through the narrow band. I was moving slightly, but Guppy was advancing on me as well.

I waited until the fish's jaws were practically snapping at my feet, then drove my legs downwards, punching into the center if Guppy's face. I used the fish as a platform for a jump that stole the beast's momentum even as it pushed me free, my body squishing then popping through the gap like a cork from a bottle, and I rushed up through the pipe on a wave of pressure.

Above me, I could see a point of daylight growing rapidly, a hint of blue sky, the white of passing clouds. There was a momentary rushing sensation as I reached the end of the pipe, and then I was free, soaring upwards to that blue sky.

I was hit by a wave of cold air as I burst into the light. I tumbled freely through the air, getting glimpses of the city streets far below me as I turned. The water I was riding abandoned me, falling away and down to land in the basin of a grand fountain, even as I continued drifting upwards.

I felt a strong wind rushing past my body, and allowed it to take me, my puff body technique letting me ride the air current towards a nearby rooftop, where I landed lightly on my feet.

A moment later, Guppy emerged from the pipe. Its flight was graceless, shooting briefly into the air, experiencing a moment of weightlessness, then hurtling down towards the ground.

It landed with a splatting sound, bouncing once, before rolling to a stop.

The fish immediately began trying to right itself, but a booted workman stopped, made a disgusted sound, and kicked it away into the gutter.

Guppy tried launching a pair of fish hooks at the worker's leg, but they just bounced harmlessly off his trousers, and the man continued on oblivious.

A shadow passed overhead, and a brown shape touched down to the curb. It was the russet pigeon I'd encountered near the well.

The brown bird was soon joined by three other pigeons, and they slowly began to approach Guppy, pecking innocuously at the ground as they drew closer, even as they maintained a keen watch on the fish.

Guppy turned, eyeing the approaching birds warily as it slithered into a defensive position.

More and more birds arrived, pigeons flocking to the scene until they outnumbered the passing people, all edging their way closer to the monstrous fish.

All at once, they moved, descending on Guppy in a feeding frenzy.

I caught glimpses of thrashing scales, flashes of terrified fish eyes, but most of the violence was obscured by beating wings.

I turned away from the scene of carnage, lifting the flap of the bag. Lemon was sitting inside, damp, but safe. The pile of sugar in there was eroded and clumped together, but that would dry in time.

I'd done it. I'd escaped the tunnels, escaped the beast. I'd gained a new knowledge of myself, as well as new powers. I'd made and lost a friend along the way, and picked up a new responsibility.

I looked out across the city, across the streets and rooftops. In the distance I saw a bright light I initially took for the sun, until I realized it was coming towards me.

It slowed as it arrived, coalescing into a glowing golden glyph, hanging in the air in front of me.

I raised one of my sugar spikes, reaching out towards it. The moment my spike made contact, the size and material of the glyph changed, shrinking down to a small white shape. The same glyph, but made out of sugar crystal, resting on the tip of my spike. I pulled the token towards myself to examine it, and felt the familiar touch of Animus.

Standard Evolution Token (Doughtanion)

Grants an evolution point when consumed by its coded recipient.

I considered placing the sugar glyph in my bag to investigate later, but I wasn't sure that it wouldn't spoil, and I was wary of the danger of losing it

Instead, I placed the sugar shape against my surface, and let my body absorb it.

The last evolution I'd experienced, my crisis evolution, had granted me my sticky legs, which had been the key to my survival all throughout my short existence. What would this token bring?

An energizing warmth rushed through my body as the token sank into my flesh, healing my wounds, and again I felt the brush of the angel, the Animus, across my thoughts.

Standard Evolution!

Choose a facet:

o Energy

o Communication

o Motion

Like my crisis evolution, this was offering me a choice between facets, but again without much information. My legs had come to me from choosing Motion, and I certainly didn't need any more mobility.

The angel had offered me Energylast time as well, and I was no clearer on what that was now than then.

My clear weakness was still my inability to communicate. I still remembered the paralyzing frustration I'd felt outside Old Biscuit's door, our stilted conversation.

Communication. It must be communication.

The energy began to concentrate on my front, the featureless expanse of dough I thought of as my face. It drew together, coalescing in the center in a flashpoint of heat. I felt sudden pain, the searing of a short horizontal line, and then the heat was gone.

I felt something new. I opened my mouth.

New Attribute Acquired!

Honeyed Tongue

Speak, shout, and sing.

Arresting tone.

I can speak?

"I can speak!" I shouted. I raised my sugar spikes to the sky, opening my tiny slit-mouth and screaming a wordless cry of triumph to the heavens. "Do you hear me, world? I can speak!"

I looked back to the city skyline. The world seemed different now, somehow. I could no longer be so easily dismissed. I would no longer be spoken over, or spoken for, as Old Biscuit had done.

I had a voice, I could make myself heard and understood. And what reason wouldn't sway, my blades would convince. I was ready to face this world on its own terms, walk its lands as an equal of the people passing below.

I took a running jump from the edge of the roof, riding the wind as I soared from rooftop to rooftop, making my way out of the crowded city, with its birds and angry, hungry people, towards the rolling hills and quiet villages of the distant horizon.