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Amitie jolted upright in her bed, her tousled hair spilling like a wild cascade of fiery curls around her pillow. Her heart hammered wildly against her ribs, as if trying to burst free. The dream—the strange, vivid jumble of Puyo pieces tumbling from a stormy purple sky, a talking carrot reciting wistful poetry about lost friendships, and Sig drifting by on the back of a giant stag beetle that shimmered with otherworldly light—faded as the first soft rays of dawn filtered through the window.
For a moment, she blinked, disoriented, trying to gather the fragments of that odd vision. Then a sharp, unmistakable sound made her freeze: a skittering shuffle and a tiny, gleeful chuckle from the foot of her bed.
There, perched with all the confidence of a mischievous sprite, was the grinning spider-creature. Its glossy black eyes gleamed with delight and a dash of chaos, its slender legs waving like antennae. “Good morning!” it chirped in a sing-song voice, tilting its head with playful curiosity.
Amitie’s eyes went wide, and before she could stop herself, a scream tore from her throat. “AAAAHHHH!” She grabbed the nearest pillow—her pink, fuzzy favorite—and hurled it with all her might.
The spider-creature dodged nimbly, laughing as it scuttled up the wall with astonishing speed, disappearing out the open window in a whirl of chittering giggles.
Panting, Amitie clutched the edge of her bed, her chest rising and falling rapidly. “...Wh-what the heck was that, man?!” she stammered, wiping the cold sweat off her brow.
Then her eyes snapped open with sudden realization. Today. Today was Sig’s birthday.
“Oh no! The cake! The decorations! The surprise plan!” Panic flooded her voice as she scrambled out of bed, her feet barely touching the floor before she grabbed her signature green hat and jammed it on crookedly, like a warrior donning armor.
She practically flew down the stairs—nearly tripping over the bouncing bundle of energy that was her little brother, Coquin, who was already humming a cheerful tune.
“Coquin!” she called breathlessly, rummaging through drawers and cupboards with growing urgency. “Have you seen the streamers? The confetti? The bug-shaped candles?!” Her hands were everywhere at once.
Coquin giggled, eyes sparkling with mischief. “I saw Lidelle carrying them out back! She said something about keeping them safe from ‘pranksters.’” He grinned wider. “But maybe the prankster’s you, Nee-chan!”
“No time to argue!” Amitie shot back with a playful scowl, ruffling his unruly hair as she dashed out the door.
Outside, the morning sun cast a warm golden glow over the village. The air was thick with the scent of blooming flowers and freshly baked bread drifting from the market. Amitie’s boots pounded the cobblestones as she followed Coquin’s teasing clue toward the school courtyard.
She almost collided with Lidelle, who was delicately arranging the bug-shaped candles—each one a tiny masterpiece of frosting and sugar—beside a towering, triple-layer cake. The cake itself was a work of art, decorated with frosting beetles crawling among sugar-spun spider webs that shimmered in the light.
“A-Amitie!” Lidelle squeaked, hands steadying the cake with a nervous grip. “Please be careful! This took hours!”
“Sorry, Lidelle!” Amitie grinned sheepishly, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Is everything ready? We can’t let Sig see any of this yet. Raffina will flip if we mess up the timing.”
Lidelle nodded quickly, cheeks flushed with a mix of exertion and excitement. “R-Raffina said she went to pick up Sig for the, um, ‘casual stroll’ before the surprise.”
From behind a tall oak, Klug emerged, clutching a bundle of books and scrolls that looked far too heavy for his slender frame. His glasses caught the sunlight as he adjusted them with a furrowed brow. “And I suppose I’m to manage the fireworks,” he muttered dryly. “Really, I should be studying—”
“Oh hush, Klug,” Coquin teased from an upstairs window, waving a hand. “You’re just grumpy because Accord told you to take a break.”
Amitie shot her brother a sharp look. “Not the time, Coquin!”
Klug sniffed but said no more, instead crouching to inspect a small rocket inscribed with glowing runes. He tapped a rune carefully, eyes narrowing. “This is either going to be a delightful party or the end of civilization as we know it.”
Amitie swallowed hard at the ominous prediction, her excitement tinged with just a hint of nervousness.
Meanwhile, Raffina walked alongside Sig through the bustling streets of the village, doing her best to keep his attention focused on anything other than the surprise waiting back home. It wasn’t an easy task. Sig’s bright eyes darted from one corner to the next, lingering on every beetle skittering across the cobblestones, every butterfly flitting lazily between blossoms, every tiny insect that caught his notice.
“Sig! Do try to keep up,” Raffina urged, trying to inject as much cheer into her voice as possible. “We wouldn’t want to be late for your... uh... lunch appointment with Maguro and Ringo!” She forced a light laugh, though she felt the sweat bead on her brow. Distracting Sig was proving tougher than she’d imagined.
Sig blinked slowly, then followed a ladybug inching its way up a weathered fence post with the kind of childlike wonder that made Raffina’s heart ache a little. “Oh. Okay.” His voice was soft, but those twinkling eyes gave her the distinct impression he wasn’t entirely convinced.
They turned a corner together, only to nearly collide with a trio skulking in a narrow alleyway. Arle, Schezo, and Rulue were awkwardly clustered near a stack of crates, behind which an assortment of party supplies was poorly concealed—streamers, balloons, and a suspiciously large box labeled “For Sig’s Big Surprise!”
Raffina groaned and pressed her palm to her forehead. “Really? You guys?”
Schezo’s cheeks flushed a deep crimson as he shoved a stray streamer behind his back. “It’s not what it looks like!”
“Good morning, Sig!” Arle chimed brightly, forcing an overly sweet smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“Arle, what the—?!” Raffina groaned again, shooting daggers at her friends.
But Sig only smiled gently, as if in on the secret. He crouched down carefully and cradled a bright blue butterfly that had landed softly on his palm. “Morning,” he said quietly before turning away to let the butterfly go, watching it drift off on the breeze.
Rulue sighed, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. Leaning close, she whispered to Raffina with a mixture of amusement and exasperation, “They’re all hopeless at this.”
Back at the party site, the atmosphere buzzed with a mixture of excitement and mild chaos as the last decorations were hurriedly put in place. Ringo and Maguro worked together, carefully stringing up colorful banners that proudly proclaimed HAPPY BIRTHDAY SIG! The breeze, however, seemed determined to sabotage their efforts, whipping the banners around until the letters scrambled into comical phrases like APPY BIR S! and HAPY BDAY GI! Fortunately, Risukuma appeared just in time, propping the banners upright with a well-placed stick and a satisfied nod.
Nearby, Draco arrived, expertly balancing a towering fruit platter on her head. The vibrant colors of melon slices, berries, and citrus gleamed under the sun, drawing appreciative oohs and ahhs from the group. Witch, meanwhile, was experimenting with a delicate enchantment on the refreshments, hoping to make the drinks magically refill themselves throughout the party. Her attempts were met with mixed success; while most of the glasses behaved, one unlucky cup suddenly sprouted leaves and flowers, transforming into a tiny potted plant that sat blinking innocently atop the table.
At the entrance, Satan struck a dramatic pose, spreading his arms wide as if addressing an audience of thousands. “Today, we celebrate not just Sig’s birth,” he announced with theatrical flair, “but the grand tapestry of destiny that weaves us all together—”
“Please stop,” Witch groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. Her tone was equal parts exasperated and amused, as if she’d heard this speech a hundred times too many.
Maya and Lilliane dashed through Primp’s narrow, winding side streets, their arms overflowing with last-minute party favors — colorful bags stuffed with confetti, tiny magical trinkets, and an assortment of sweet treats. Sunlight filtered through the canopy above, casting dappled patterns that danced teasingly on the cobblestones beneath their feet. The air was alive with the scent of blooming flowers and the distant hum of villagers going about their day.
Suddenly, the girls skidded to a halt as a shadow fell across the path. From a narrow alleyway stepped the notorious Shadow Brigade, a group both feared and admired for their mastery of shadow magic. Mira stood at the forefront, arms crossed, her cool gaze scanning the surroundings with quiet authority. Bosco lounged lazily against the brick wall, a smirk playing on his lips. Prolang adjusted the leather gloves on her hands with practiced precision, Diskmin twirled a glowing disc of energy between his fingers, and Webb dangled upside-down from a low branch, his expression one of amused indifference.
“Hey, Mira!” Maya called out, jogging forward with a hopeful grin that brightened her face. “You guys busy?”
Mira’s lips curved into a slight, almost imperceptible smile. “We’re always busy, Maya,” she said smoothly, voice like velvet wrapped around steel. “Shadow magic doesn’t master itself.”
Lilliane stepped up beside Maya, adding cheerfully, “We’re throwing a party for Sig! Want to come? Maybe even perform a shadow trick or two?”
Bosco snorted, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “We don’t do parties.”
“Yeah,” Prolang agreed, flipping her braid with a sharp flick. “We don’t do cute.”
Maya’s hopeful smile faltered for a moment, but then she summoned her ultimate weapon: the biggest, most pleading puppy-dog eyes she could manage. “Please? Just one trick? For my big brother?”
A brief silence fell over the group. Mira rubbed her temples as the others exchanged groans and reluctant looks.
“Ugh. Fine,” Mira sighed, a hint of reluctant warmth in her voice. “One trick. But only because you begged.”
Meanwhile, Amitie zoomed through the bustling halls of Primp Magic School, her energy contagious as she handed out glittering invitations like handfuls of confetti. The soft hum of magical chatter and footsteps filled the air, the vibrant atmosphere reflecting the excitement building around Sig’s birthday.
In a quiet corner of the library, Tsuki Mikoto sat cross-legged on a cushioned window seat, deeply immersed in a dense tome about astral alignment. Amitie breezed over, waving a sparkling invitation card under Tsuki’s nose with a wide grin.
“Birthday party for Sig!” Amitie announced cheerfully. “You’re coming, right?”
Tsuki blinked slowly, adjusting her glasses as she considered the offer. “I suppose... that sounds pleasant,” she murmured, her voice soft and thoughtful. “I hope Klug’s there.” Her gaze drifted briefly to where Klug was buried in an arcane manuscript nearby, muttering to himself as he scribbled runes.
Amitie gave a quick nod and a wink, then sped off.
In the courtyard, Katrina “Kat” Davis practiced a swirling fire spell, the flames dancing gracefully between her fingertips. Nearby, Ed Donovan and Audrey Watters were deep in debate, their animated gestures punctuating discussions about magical theory and elemental affinities. Amitie dashed past, dropping invitations into their hands without missing a beat.
“Don’t be late!” she called out, her smile bright and infectious.
Ricky Klassen caught her wrist with a cheerful high-five as she streaked by. At a picnic table, Hailey, Holly, Bolly, Billy, and Tommy huddled together, their laughter bubbling over as they whispered excitedly about cake and decorations.
Across the courtyard, Tin Pan Arnold, tapping rhythms on a set of drums conjured from thin air, simply tipped his hat in quiet thanks as Amitie handed him an invitation. The steady beat of his drums seemed to sync with the growing anticipation surrounding the upcoming celebration.
Far beyond the cozy streets of Primp, the Spacetime Detective Agency headquarters groaned under the strain of ongoing repairs. Sparks sputtered and crackled as exposed wiring twisted like restless serpents, panels hung precariously from the ceiling, and the air was tinged with the sharp scent of ozone and burnt circuitry. The hum of malfunctioning machinery mixed with the occasional clang of tools hitting metal.
Atari wiped the sweat from her brow, her brows furrowed as she scanned the room. “We’re nowhere near ready,” she muttered, kicking a stray bolt across the floor.
Roquier crouched beside a shattered console, fingers tracing the jagged edges of broken circuitry. “I’m telling you, we need at least another week to get this place operational again,” he said, voice heavy with frustration.
Seo leaned back against a battered workbench, crossing her arms. “Or we pull an all-nighter and get it done in three days,” she replied, a wry smirk playing on her lips. “Sleep is overrated.”
Before either could respond, a sudden pop of shimmering magic energy burst in the air like a tiny firework. A swirl of warm pink light coalesced into a familiar figure — Amitie, bouncing in with a grin so wide it practically lit up the grimy room.
“Hi-hi! Sig’s birthday! You’re invited!” she chirped, thrusting shiny, candy-colored invitations into their hands with the enthusiasm of a sugar-high.
And then — pop! — she was gone, leaving behind a faint sparkle and a faint scent of strawberries.
The detectives blinked, staring at the empty spot where she’d just been.
Atari finally broke the silence with a tired but amused smile. “…I guess we’re going to a party.”
Roquier cracked a rare grin. “Guess we’d better finish up faster, huh?”
Seo shook her head, chuckling. “You’re both hopeless.”
Amitie’s next warp shimmered through space and time, depositing her right in the cozy, sunlit clubroom of the Light Academy. The gentle scent of blooming flowers filled the air from a meticulously tended window garden where Floré knelt, her hands gently pruning a vibrant cluster of luminous petals. Ciel and Roco sat nearby, locked in a fierce but friendly game of magical chess—their pieces glowing softly as they floated above the board. Lux leaned back in a chair, quietly paging through an ancient tome, while Abyss lurked in a shadowed corner, scribbling cryptic notes in his ever-present journal.
“Birthday party! Sig! You’re all coming!” Amitie burst in, her voice bright and full of excitement as she thrust colorful invitations into their hands.
Lux closed his book with a warm smile. “Sounds like a wonderful break. Count me in.”
Roco’s eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as he nodded. “I’m definitely in! Sig’s birthday is important.”
Floré hesitated, fingers lingering on a delicate petal. “But…the other students, what will they say? We have responsibilities…”
Amitie’s smile broadened, her tone light but persuasive. “Teachers say it’s good to take breaks! And this will be fun — a perfect chance to relax and celebrate.”
Ciel’s brows furrowed in concern, but then softened as she caught Amitie’s hopeful gaze. “…Fine. Just for a little while,” she relented, her competitive spirit conceding to friendship.
From the shadows, Abyss groaned softly, rolling his eyes but slipping the invitation into his pocket. “If I must… but only because it’s Sig’s birthday.”
A faint warmth seemed to spread through the room, and for a moment, even Abyss looked almost… content.
Elsewhere, Arle moved through the bustling corridors of Primp, a stack of brightly colored invitations tucked under her arm. She smiled warmly as she approached Alex, who was leaning casually against a wall. She looked up with a spark of interest when Arle handed her an invite.
“A party, huh?” Alex grinned, her eyes lighting up. “Sounds like just the break we need. Count me in.”
Next, Arle found Rebecca sitting quietly on a bench, her hood pulled low over her eyes. She glanced up, the faintest smile tugging at her lips as Arle offered the invitation.
“Oh, I suppose it would be rude not to go,” Rebecca said with a soft chuckle, adjusting her hood back in place. “Especially if it’s for Sig.”
Wynn appeared next, meticulously polishing one of her gleaming knives with a calm and focused air. She nodded gracefully as she accepted the invite.
“I wouldn’t miss it,” she said simply, her voice steady and confident.
Finally, Arle caught up with Chiquita, who was skipping down the hall with infectious energy. The moment she saw the invitation, she threw both arms in the air and whooped.
“Party time! Yessss!” Chiquita exclaimed, practically bouncing with excitement.
As Arle finished handing out the last invitation, a flicker of hesitation crossed her mind. She hadn’t stopped by Grace’s usual haunt—the glacial edge of town where the air itself seemed to freeze.
Grace, the Ice Queen, had always been a bit of a mystery to everyone. Her cold aura made even the warmest rooms feel like winter, and though her icy demeanor kept most at arm’s length, there were whispers that beneath it all, she wasn’t as untouchable as she seemed.
Arle sighed softly, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. Inviting Grace wasn’t as simple as handing over a colorful card. Would she even want to come? Would they even be welcome?
Amitie pressed forward through the bustling Pride Fest, letting the rich colors and growing cheers ease her nervous energy. The magic thread tying her to her friends glimmered faintly, tugging her in the right direction.
She turned down a side path — a riotous corridor of food trucks, art stands, and small musical groups — until she found Opal and Victoria once more, sitting side by side near the fountain. Opal’s gentle strums fell into a soulful serenade, a song meant just for the two of them, while Victoria listened with a softness that seemed to ease even the worries weighing on her heart.
Amitie paused just a few paces away. She pressed the small envelope to her own heart, drew a shaky breath, then stepped forward with nervous confidence.
Amitie pressed her hands together in nervous giddy excitement as the spider-creature hopped down from a rooftop awning to land gracefully at her side. His multiple limbs clicked quietly against the pavement — a comforting, rhythmic chorus — while his piercing red eyes glimmered with affection.
“That was a great team-up back there with your family, setting up the party and all.” Amitie paused, tilting her head warmly. “Speaking of… I wanted to invite them, too! To Sig’s party. Do you think they’d come if we… asked together?”
The spider-creature clicked his mandibles in a moment of nervous consideration, then nodded. “I… think they'd appreciate that. I'll let them know we wish their company.”
He turned and raised a shimmering thread into the air — a delicate spider’s signal — a few simple vibrations bouncing along its silken path. Shortly afterwards, a chorus of movement responded from the nearby trees, bushes, and rooftop perches.
One by one, spider creatures began to emerge, creeping gracefully into view. His brothers, sisters, his cousins, his uncles — even his battle-scarred father with his piercing samurai-like stare — all fell into a circle around their prince.
“I forgot how big his family was...” Amitie whispered under her breath, nervousness battling with awe.
The spider-creature nodded quietly. His voice was firm but gentle. “Family… I wish to bring you to a celebration today. Sig’s birthday — a moment of happiness and peace. We wish you to be a part of it. Will you come… and celebrate alongside us?”
For a moment, there was silence — a dramatic pause — then his father stepped forward. His expression was impassive, yet a softness glimmered in his many eyes. “We will come, my son.”
This affirmation drew a chorus of enthusiastic clicking from his relatives. His brothers, sisters hopped up and down, his uncles exchanged glances, and the spider-creature turned back toward Amitie with a small, proud tremble in his voice. “…They’re in.”
Amitie clapped her hands together in pure happiness. “Yes! Oh, this is going to be the best party ever! I’ll let everyone know you’re all invited — come as you are, bring whatever you wish! We’re a big family today.”
With a rush of movement, the spider creatures fell into formation, following their prince toward the clearing where the party would soon come alive. The two friends walked side by side — Amitie beaming, spider-creature quietly proud — their hearts full of a happiness forged by understanding, loyalty, and growing trust.