The city awoke in a quiet pulse, though no sun had ever risen over the glass dome. Amber light poured through stained panes, spilling warmth across streets slick with chocolate rain from the previous night. The air was thick, almost syrupy, carrying the scent of roasted cocoa and something faintly metallic beneath.
Nia pressed her hands to the window of her quarters, watching the city breathe. Each building shimmered as though it had been sculpted from molten sugar and frozen mid-fall. Fountains of liquid caramel spiraled up into the air, arching gracefully before splashing into basins carved like sugar flowers. Pedestrians passed silently, their movements deliberate, their eyes downcast, chocolate stains brushing their gloves and hems. It was beautiful, but Nia felt the unease growing inside her like a shadow along her spine.
Aya joined her at the window, holding her notebook against her chest. "It's too still," she murmured. "Even the wind doesn't seem to move here."
Nia didn't answer. She was too busy noticing the details—the way the streetlights were polished to an impossible sheen, the faint trembling in the floorboards, the subtle thrum of something alive beneath the cobblestones.
Before they could linger, a soft knock came at the door. The attendants were always punctual. Two of them, dressed in cream-colored uniforms with brass buttons, entered with motions smooth as syrup.
"Your morning awaits, honored guests," one said, voice low and melodic. "Please follow."
They walked through corridors that curved in ways that seemed almost impossible, the walls reflecting light in golden halos. Every step echoed faintly, though the floorboards were perfect. When they stepped outside, the children saw Sugar Square spread before them—a vast plaza of chocolate tiles, polished so perfectly they mirrored the pale, artificial sky.
The streets smelled of sweetness but carried undertones that made Nia uneasy. Somewhere in the distance, the faint hum of machinery vibrated through the cobblestones, a low, rhythmic pulse that reminded her of a heartbeat.
A fountain of spun sugar dominated the square. Its figure was of a woman, hands outstretched, draped in flowing sugar robes. She smiled, a frozen smile, and chocolate rivulets flowed over her fingers, falling into a basin that steamed gently in the cold air. Children pressed their faces to the fountain, tasting drops that had cooled overnight. Nia resisted.
From the square, the children were led toward the Mint Quarter, where peppermint streams ran along streets lined with candy shops and chocolate stalls. There, citizens moved in synchronized patterns, brushing past each other silently. Their eyes, Nia noticed, were dark brown, almost black, with an unnatural shine, like liquid chocolate trapped behind glass. No one spoke more than a whisper. When a vendor offered a taste of chocolate bark, he didn't wait for payment. He simply extended the sweet, then vanished into the crowd.
Aya shivered. "It's like everyone is watching us," she said, scanning the throngs.
"I think they are," Tomas muttered, his hands tucked in his coat pockets. "But not in a normal way. It's… calculated."
Felix, as always, was dismissive. He held his head high, a small grin on his face. "It's only polite observation. People admire beauty when it passes by. We are… exceptional, after all."
The twins snickered behind him, whispering to each other. Nia ignored them, focusing instead on the subtle irregularities—the occasional shadow that moved too fast for a human, the soft vibration under her feet that reminded her of the night the invitations first appeared.
The group was led into the Nougat Line next, a district of factories that released dense clouds of chocolate steam from their chimneys. Steam coiled lazily into the sky, carrying scents both intoxicating and strange—nutmeg, bitter cocoa, burnt sugar. The streets here were narrower, the buildings higher, their sides carved with spiraling reliefs of cocoa pods and candy flowers.
"This is where dreams are crafted," the lead attendant said, sweeping his hand toward the buildings. "Every chocolate you taste, every flavor you remember, passes through these halls."
Nia's gaze dropped to the street beneath her feet. She could just make out a faint grid of pipes under the cobblestones, pulsing softly. Something alive ran through them, she was sure, something far older than sugar or caramel.
Vellum appeared at the head of the procession, his dark coat brushing the steam. "Observe closely," he said, voice rich as melted chocolate. "Everything you see, everything you taste, is more than it seems. The city is a confection, yes, but also a labyrinth. And not all paths are safe."
Felix straightened. "Surely there are rules," he said. "Boundaries. Etiquette."
Vellum's amber eyes gleamed. "Indeed," he said. "The first rule is simple: Do not touch what has not been offered. Everything in this city has a purpose. Interference is… unwise."
Aya's lips pressed together. "Even in the factories?"
Vellum inclined his head slightly. "Even in the factories."
Tomas frowned. "What happens if someone breaks the rule?"
Vellum's smile didn't reach his eyes. "Curiosity is a fine thing, young man. But some lessons are learned only through… consequence."
The children continued through the streets, passing shops of spun sugar, towers of chocolate bricks, and candy stalls whose owners were so silent that the only movement came from their gloved hands.
At the edge of the Nougat Line, they glimpsed it — a street entirely walled off, darker than the rest, where the chocolate pavement seemed almost black. The attendants froze in their tracks. Even Vellum's posture stiffened for a heartbeat.
"What is that?" Lina whispered.
Vellum gestured toward a gilded archway behind them, smoothly redirecting their path. "A district best left unseen," he said lightly. "Every city has its corners where shadows linger. Focus on the wonders, my guests."
But Nia's gaze lingered on the black street. She felt its pulse — a low, vibrating heartbeat that seemed alive, a rhythm echoing the hum she had first heard beneath the train.
Aya put a hand on her arm. "Do you feel it too?"
Nia nodded, though she didn't reply. Something waited there, beyond the walls. And she was already beginning to suspect that their tour through Vellum City would eventually take them straight into it.