As everyone walked toward the market, Randy suddenly threw an arm out across their path.
“Wait, you fools.”
Everyone stopped. Chiyo rolled her eyes. “What now?”
Randy smirked. “Well… you’re all going to need disguises.”
Eleo tilted his head. “Disguises? Like ninja masks? Ooooh, do we get ninja masks!?”
Randy sighed. “No, idiot. Cloaks. So the Ascendants don’t spot us the second we walk in.”
They entered the canyon, the massive sprawl of the Market of Noya opening before them—stalls, lanterns, music, and voices weaving together in a storm of sound. Eleo and Timmy gasped in unison, their eyes sparkling.
“Wooooooow!” Eleo spun in a circle. “This place is HUGE! I wanna explore everything!”
Timmy clapped his hands. “Yes! Let’s see it all!”
But Olorun stepped in front of them, folding his arms. “We can’t. Because of them.”
He pointed across the crowded bazaar. Several Ascendants in dark cloaks stalked through the market, their uniforms just barely hidden, eyes scanning every face.
Chiyo’s expression hardened. “Damn. They’re everywhere.”
Randy jerked his head toward a shop. “In here, guys.”
The sign above read: Pandes Cloths Store.
The squad shuffled inside, greeted by rows and rows of clothes. Bright silks and heavy desert cloaks hung from racks, glittering jewelry dangled from shelves, and mannequins posed dramatically in full robes.
Timmy gasped and hopped onto the counter. “Woooah! That’s a LOT of clothes!”
Kawai squeaked excitedly, flapping its flippers. “Meep! Meep!”
Randy smirked. “Yep. And don’t forget to grab a cloak. For the sun… and so the Ascendants don’t see you.”
Olorun scoffed, puffing his chest. “Ha! I’m not listening to the guy who literally tried to kill us. I’ll be listening to my pure, strong leader.”
He closed his eyes, crossing his arms and smiling smugly. “Eleo. Should I wear a cloak?”
But Eleo was already darting around the store, eyes glued to shiny objects. “Oh wow, what’s this! What’s that! Ooooh, buttons! So sparkly!”
Olorun’s eye twitched. He sighed loudly. “…Never mind.”
Meanwhile, Timmy rummaged through a pile of tiny robes. “Oh! Kawai, look! These are just our size!”
He tossed a pink robe across the room. It flopped over Kawai’s head.
Kawai froze, then shrieked, flailing. “MEEP! MEEP MEEP!!”
Timmy blinked. “Uh-oh… you don’t like pink?”
Kawai ripped the robe off, stomped on it furiously, and flung it into a rack. “MEEP! MEEP!!”
Timmy winced, pulling a robe over his own shoulders. “Sorry, Kawai… it’s the only color left in your size…”
Kawai crossed its flippers, glaring.
Nearby, Chiyo lifted a crimson cloak with silver trim. Her eyes softened. “Whoa… this actually matches my original outfit.”
Olorun yanked through a rack and groaned. “Ugh! Nothing here matches my coolness. Where’s the royalty section? The god-tier clothes?”
Tony brushed lint from his sleeve. “That’s World 2 for you. No fashion sense.”
Kenji flipped a folded cloak over his arm. “It doesn’t matter if it matches your… ‘coolness.’ All you need is practicality.”
Olorun shot him the finger. “Screw you too, jerk.”
Kenji didn’t even look up. “Your finger’s the only strong thing you’ve got.”
Olorun’s jaw dropped. “EXCUSE ME?! SAY THAT AGAIN!”
The two immediately squared off, racks shaking as Olorun shoved one aside.
Before it could explode, Eleo leapt up. “Guys! I found the ONE!” He held up a glittering blue cloak with sequins. “And now I shall change!”
He proudly strutted toward the fitting rooms.
But the second his hand touched the knob, a blur darted past.
“Sorry, Eleo!” Chiyo chirped, sliding into the changing room. “Ladies first!”
The door slammed.
Eleo froze. His jaw dropped. “HEY! THAT’S NOT FAIR! I WAS ALREADY HERE!”
He hammered on the door with both fists. “CHIIIYOOOO! Leader privileges! I CALL DIBS!”
Inside, Chiyo laughed. “Too slow, bunny boy! You snooze, you lose!”
“I WASN’T SNOOZING!” Eleo howled. “I WAS AMAZED! THAT’S DIFFERENT!”
The rest of the squad just stared.
Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. “We’ve been in here five minutes and it’s already chaos.”
Randy rubbed his temple. “Yeah… definitely a circus.”
Kenji, Olorun, and Tony were browsing through racks when suddenly—
“Welcome, honored customers.”
They all froze.
The voice had come from behind the counter. Slowly, three pairs of eyes turned.
The shop worker wasn’t human at all—he was a tall bird, feathers glossy black, beak sharp, wearing a little red vest and a bowtie that looked two sizes too small.
Kenji blinked. “...That’s a bird.”
Tony muttered, “That’s not just a bird. That’s a bird in customer service.”
Olorun squinted. “Uh… hey, birdy. I have a question.”
The bird tilted its head. “And what be your question, sir?”
Olorun crossed his arms, deadly serious. “Why do you guys have… trash clothes?”
Tony nearly choked. He immediately lunged forward and threw an arm around Olorun’s shoulders, laughing nervously. “Ahaha! What my friend means to say is, uh… do you have any fancier clothes for us? Something with style, class, dignity, you know… not trash.”
The bird worker blinked, unimpressed, and shuffled over to the rack. “We have… hm. Perhaps this will do.”
He plucked a robe off a hanger and held it out with a dramatic flourish.
Olorun snatched it, inspecting it with narrowed eyes. The fabric was thin, stiff, and the stitching looked like it would unravel in one tug. But the thing that caught his attention most was the little green logo stamped on the corner—a single leaf.
His eyes widened. He grabbed Tony’s sleeve and yanked him close. “Tony. Look. Look at this.”
Tony leaned over. “What is it?”
Olorun whispered, “This shop is a phony.”
Tony tilted his skull. “...Because it has a leaf?”
“Yes!” Olorun hissed. “That logo? It’s fake! This is a Pande’s knockoff brand!”
The bird worker’s head swiveled around. “Is there… a problem, sir?”
Olorun froze, then plastered on the fakest smile he could muster. “Oh, nooo problem here. Uh… but our blue-haired idiot wants to talk to you!”
Kenji, standing three feet away, nearly dropped the cloak he was holding. “Huh? Wait, what?”
The bird worker straightened proudly. “Ahh! Blue hair. Perfect. I shall explain to you all the clothes in this fine establishment.”
Kenji’s eye twitched. “Wait—what? Why me? I didn’t ask for this—”
Meanwhile, Olorun leaned close to Tony, lowering his voice. “Okay, so here’s the deal. Pande’s are a cheap knockoff of Mandy’s. And those Pande’s? They spawned another knockoff. And that knockoff spawned another knockoff. It just keeps going. Infinite knockoffs. Like a cursed bloodline of bad fashion.”
Tony rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Well… I mean, maybe they still have something nice hidden around here. Even knockoffs can look decent if you squint hard enough.”
Olorun shook his head dramatically. “No, no, no. I really don’t like them. And here’s the worst part: if you call them out…” He leaned in even closer. “They get really mad.”
Tony raised a brow. “How mad are we talking?”
Olorun spread his arms wide. “Let me tell you. Back when I was at Kiniki Island—you know, the one with the beaches, parties, and more beaches—”
Tony sighed. “Yes, Olorun. I remember. Beaches. Parties. More beaches.”
Olorun nodded firmly. “Good. So I saw a guy once, right? He called a Pande’s worker a knockoff. Just said it plain. And you know what happened?”
Tony tilted his skull. “...What?”
Olorun’s eyes gleamed. “The worker STABBED the guy. In the eye.”
Kenji’s head whipped around mid-lecture, cloak still in his hands. “Wait—WHAT?!”
Tony slapped his own forehead. “Oh wow. Well, at least he had one eye left.”
Olorun smacked him across the shoulder. “Tony!”
Tony chuckled nervously. “Right, right. Bad joke. My bad.”
The bird worker leaned over the counter, glaring now. “...Is there something funny about our prestigious brand?”