Sanne's scream caught in her throat as she tumbled through blinding golden light. Her body felt weightless, like flour dust carried by the wind.
Then, suddenly— thud!
She landed face-first in something soft and sweet-smelling. It wasn't earth… it was warm, sticky, and oddly fluffy.
"W-what… is this?" she mumbled, pushing herself up. Her palms sank into what looked like marshmallow clouds. When she pulled back, sparkling sugar crystals clung to her fingers, glowing faintly.
Before she could make sense of it, a voice chirped above her head:
"You're squishing the Flufffields! Do you know how long it takes them to rise properly?!"
Sanne yelped and spun around. Hovering in the air was a tiny, golden creature, no bigger than her palm, with wings shaped like delicate pastry layers. Its body looked like a dollop of whipped cream, and its eyes sparkled like caramel.
"I-I'm sorry?" Sanne stammered, utterly baffled.
The creature fluttered closer, tiny arms folded.
"Honestly, humans… Always falling into Crumora uninvited. And right into someone's breakfast fields, no less!"
"Crumora?" Sanne repeated, tasting the unfamiliar word on her tongue.
The little being sighed dramatically.
"The Realm of Culinary Arts, of course! Where baking is magic, flavors hold power, and pastries are alive. My name is Flan, guardian of the Flufffields and your… ugh, apparently… your guide now."
Sanne blinked, still kneeling on the glowing marshmallow-like ground.
"Guide? Wait, no — I think there's been a mistake. I shouldn't even be here! I have a bakery to run back home."
Flan's wings twitched irritably.
"Too late for that. The portal chose you. Which means you're stuck here until you learn the rules… or get yourself baked into someone's magical experiment."
Before Sanne could ask what that meant, a loud whooshing sound echoed overhead. She looked up to see a flock of giant croissants with shimmering sugar wings gliding gracefully across a pastel-pink sky.
Her jaw dropped.
"I'm… dreaming. I must be dreaming."
Flan tugged her sleeve.
"Not dreaming. Hungry. Follow me, newbie."
As they moved deeper into Crumora, Sanne passed landscapes straight out of a fairytale — rivers of molten chocolate, crystal sugar stalactites hanging from towering candy cliffs, and markets where vendors sold singing cinnamon sticks and self-frosting cupcakes.
Her senses were overwhelmed, but one thing stood out: the smell. Every breath she took was rich with the warmth of freshly baked bread, sweet spices, and hidden magic.
Flan stopped abruptly before a towering structure shaped like a massive loaf of bread. The doors opened with a hiss of steam, and a stern voice boomed from inside:
"Another portal arrival? Bring her in. Let us see if she's worthy of the Magistrate's Recipe Trials."
Sanne swallowed hard, clutching her apron.
She had no idea what a "recipe trial" was, but if she wanted to survive here — and maybe find her way back home — she had no choice but to follow.
For the first time, she realized something terrifying:This wasn't just another world.This was a world where baking could decide life or death.