The air was thick with tension—oppressive and suffocating—as if an invisible blade pressed against White Lily Cookie's back, sharp and unforgiving. Save her cherished friends... or confront Shadow Milk Cookie and end this madness once and for all. Meanwhile, he laughed—mocking, radiant—his wide grin unshaken as his puppet dangled Pure Vanilla Cookie and the others like mere trinkets.

Then, in the heart of the chaos, she saw him.

Elder Faerie Cookie.

Once the stalwart guardian of the ancient seal, sworn to defend it until his final breath. And in the end, he did. Weakened in body but unyielding in spirit, he had entrusted her—White Lily Cookie—with the last remnants of his fading power. She had questions, doubts that churned inside her like a storm, but now was not the time for clarity. They needed her. All of them.

"Do not fear, White Lily Cookie..." came his voice—steady, serene, like a breeze brushing through ancient trees. A stark contrast to Shadow Milk Cookie's deranged cackling. "Fight him. Do not let him twist your spirit."

His words cut through her uncertainty like sunlight through mist.

"I will, Your Majesty," she replied with newfound resolve. "I shall not fail you."

And though uncertainty still stirred within her heart, she would not falter. She would defy Shadow Milk Cookie, save her friends, and restore the seal—so the darkness might never rise again.

Her eyes opened, burning with purpose. The battle was about to begin.

"Oh? Looks like Your Majesty found her spine! Pft!" Shadow Milk Cookie sneered, voice dripping with mocking sweetness. "Did that so very foolish king fill your head with noble nonsense? How adorable. But enough theatrics—what's your decision?"

Then came the clash.

A battle like no other—an opera of violence and valor. White Lily Cookie fought with the strength of all those she held dear, but fate, cruel as ever, struck again. In the midst of a desperate strike, she stumbled—an opening Shadow Milk Cookie exploited without hesitation.

She fell.

Not just in battle, but in faith. Her trust. Her hopes. Her friends. Everything shattered in an instant. Her eyes widened with despair, the agony spreading like wildfire through her weakened frame. She was already a fragment of who she once was... and now, death felt closer than ever.

But even in her agony, she heard it—laughter.

"Looks like we have a winner!~" Shadow Milk Cookie sang with theatrical flair, triumph staining his words. "Come on, darlings, a round of applause for your humble jester!"

With a flick of his fingers, the strings controlling her friends went slack—they crumpled to the ground like dolls... all but one.

Pure Vanilla Cookie.

A sudden POOF! and the jester vanished, along with his captive. GingerBrave and the others rushed to White Lily Cookie's side, finding her weaker than ever, barely holding on.

Elsewhere, Shadow Milk Cookie held Pure Vanilla Cookie's hand in a vice-like grip, dragging him down the cold, echoing halls. He barely glanced at the ruined chamber meant to serve as Pure Vanilla's quarters—the door splintered, the room in ruins. His smirk faltered. He blinked, momentarily stunned.

"Uhhhhh..." he muttered, irritation flickering in his eyes. But then—an idea.

A stroke of brilliance, like all his ideas, of course.

He said nothing, letting the silence build, deliciously thick with tension. With purposeful steps, he led them further into the tower. Then, with a theatrical click of his staff, the doors to his personal chambers swung open.

"Gorgeous, isn't it?" he said, voice laced with vanity. "Still, not quite as handsome as me, wouldn't you say, dear?"

He chuckled, eyes gleaming as he turned back to Pure Vanilla Cookie.

"No need to fret. I'd never let my prisoner—or should I say... special guest—sleep on the floor. That would be simply barbaric."

He leaned in closer, his voice dipping into a velvet murmur meant only for him.

"Hope you don't mind sharing the bed.~"

A wink. A grin. A dare, laced with playful malice. And the promise of a long night ahead.