RRRRRRR
The tavern quivered, a tremor so subtle it could've been mistaken for a drunk patron stumbling into a table.
It started as a low, ominous hum, barely audible over the clatter of mugs and the raucous laughter of adventurers deep in their cups.
Then came the flicker—lanterns dimming in unison, their enchanted flames stuttering like a lagging video feed.
The ambient mana in the air, a constant undercurrent like faint music in a game's background, hiccupped, sending a prickle of unease down Zephyr's spine.
"Did the lights just blink?" he asked, his voice tinged with a mix of curiosity and dread as he glanced up at the swaying bulbs.
Lyra tensed, her emerald eyes narrowing to slits, her hand tightening around Emberthorn's sapphire shaft.
"Mana surge," she said grimly, her voice low and sharp, cutting through the tavern's din like a warning shot.
"Correction," GlitchWitch interjected, her sprite popping into existence above the table like a corrupted error message, her neon-purple hair flickering erratically.
"Local distortion detected. Probability of spontaneous glitch event: 92%. Buckle up, SparkleBoy."
Zephyr's gaze darted around the room, his pulse quickening. "Is that… common here?"
"Depends," Lyra replied, rising from her chair with the fluid grace of a predator, her staff already humming with latent energy. "Do you count explosive slime-vomit as common?"
CRASH
A mug shattered behind the counter as the bartender fumbled, her single eye wide with alarm.
The ferret in the hooded woman's cloak hissed, its tiny claws scrabbling at the fabric. From the back of the tavern, a grizzled patron began muttering a frantic chant, his voice rising in a desperate refrain: "Not again, not again, please not again."
Then the floor cracked.
Mana erupted from between the cobblestones in jagged, glowing lines, like circuit boards short-circuiting in a blaze of corrupted light.
The tavern walls groaned, a deep, guttural sound that vibrated through Zephyr's bones.
Tables rattled, mugs toppled, and the air itself seemed to pulse with unstable energy, thick and electric.
And then reality ripped.
With a sharp, ear-splitting snap, a tear opened in the center of the room—a jagged hole of glitching pixels, like a loading screen torn apart by a bad render.
Something clawed its way through, its form coalescing from the chaos.
A beast of jagged, glowing code, its fur flickering between neon blue and toxic green, its edges fraying like a poorly optimized model.
Its eyes were square, burning red, and its snout spasmed in and out of existence, snapping with glitched distortion.
"…Are those wolves?" Zephyr asked, his voice cracking as he scrambled to his feet, his heart slamming against his ribs.
"Byte-Wolves," Lyra confirmed, already dropping into a battle stance, her staff raised like a conductor poised to unleash hell.
"System-spawned. Unstable. Aggressive. Don't let them bite—data corruption's not just a warning label; it'll scramble your core faster than you can say 'game over.'"
The lead Byte-Wolf lunged, its glitching maw wide, trailing streams of pixelated static. Lyra moved like lightning, her staff sweeping through the air in a fluid arc.
Emberthorn blazed, its runes igniting with a roar as a firebolt erupted from its tip, slamming into the creature mid-leap with a deafening CRACK.
The wolf yelped, a distorted, digital screech, as chunks of its form exploded outward like shattered polygons, dissolving into the air.
"Your turn, Glitch Boy!" Lyra shouted, her voice cutting through the chaos as she pivoted to face another wolf, her braid whipping behind her.
Zephyr's CosmoCore interface flared to life, its screen flickering wildly on his wrist:
[CHAOS ECHO: Mimic Spell Detected – Firebolt]
Processing…
Loading…
Spelling…
Spilling…
[CASTING COMMENCED]
Zephyr thrust his hand forward with all the dramatic flair of a pro gamer pulling off a clutch play, his confidence bolstered by years of muscle memory.
"Let's do this!" he bellowed, bracing for a surge of arcane power.
Instead, confetti exploded from his palm—pink, green, and glittery, cascading in a festive shower that would've been perfect for a child's birthday bash.
A triumphant horn blared in the background, a ridiculous BWAHHHHH-DA-DAAAAH! that echoed through the tavern like a taunting fanfare.
One of the Byte-Wolves paused mid-snarl, its glitching head tilting in what could only be described as canine confusion, as if questioning the absurdity of its existence.
"…Did you just attack it with a birthday party?" Lyra yelled, her voice a mix of disbelief and exasperation as she dodged a snapping jaw, her staff flaring with another burst of flame.
Zephyr stumbled back, his face flushing with mortification as glitter rained down around him.
"Hey! That could've worked!" he protested, though his voice lacked conviction.
Another Byte-Wolf lunged, its glitched claws raking the air.
Zephyr dove under a swinging table, narrowly avoiding a swipe that splintered the wood above him.
He rolled across the floor, knocking over a plate of glowing mushrooms that pulsed with faint light, and popped up on the other side, panting, his heart racing like he was stuck in a speedrun with no checkpoints.
"New plan!" he shouted, ducking as a mug sailed past his head. "You cast spells, I'll scream supportively!"
Lyra gritted her teeth, her eyes blazing as she unleashed another firebolt, the spell cleaving a Byte-Wolf clean in half with a sizzling hiss.
The air filled with the acrid stench of burnt code, like plastic melting in a microwave, sharp and nauseating.
The tavern descended into pandemonium.
Patrons scrambled for cover, some diving under tables while others swung wildly at the wolves with whatever was at hand.
One burly adventurer hurled a stool, missed spectacularly, and punched himself square in the nose, collapsing with a groan.
The ferret from earlier darted across the floor, screeching as a Byte-Wolf chased it in frantic, glitching loops, leaving trails of pixelated sparks.
Zephyr sucked in a shaky breath, his interface blinking again:
[CHAOS ECHO: Recast Attempt – Lyra Vex's Firebolt]
Warning: Interference Detected
Alternate Result: Confetti. Again.
"NO—cancel, cancel, cancel!" he shouted, waving his hands like he could physically dismiss the prompt.
Too late.
Another burst of confetti erupted from his hand, this time accompanied by the unmistakable wail of a kazoo solo, shrill and absurdly cheerful.
The glittery cloud enveloped a nearby Byte-Wolf, which sneezed—a bizarre, digital achoo—and shook its head, momentarily distracted.
Before it could recover, a Byte-Wolf lunged straight for Zephyr, its glitching maw wide, red eyes blazing with malice.
He froze, his legs rooted to the spot as time seemed to slow—until BOOM.
Lyra's firebolt slammed into the creature from the side, a roaring inferno that incinerated it in a blaze of righteous fury, leaving nothing but a scattering of smoldering pixels.
Zephyr collapsed onto his elbows, his breath ragged as he stared up at Lyra.
She stood over him, her staff crackling with residual heat, her braid slightly singed at the ends, her expression a mix of exhaustion and barely restrained irritation.
"You're welcome," she said flatly, her voice cutting through the fading chaos like a blade.
Zephyr managed a weak thumbs-up, still sprawled on the floor, glitter clinging to his hair like a badge of shame.
"I… softened them up for you," he panted, forcing a grin despite the pounding in his chest.
Lyra's eyes narrowed, but the faintest twitch of her lips betrayed a flicker of amusement before she turned away, her staff still glowing with latent power.
The tavern's survivors began to emerge from their hiding spots, muttering curses and checking for missing limbs, while the ferret triumphantly reclaimed its hood.
GlitchWitch hovered above Zephyr, her sprite now sporting a tiny cheerleader outfit, complete with pom-poms that flickered in and out of existence.
"Great teamwork, SparkleBoy," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "You really brought the party to this fight."