Chapter Text
“Mother, who is this?” a boy of about nine years old approached a laboratory counter.
His skin had a faint reddish tone, and his hair was cut short, dark strands still taking shape beneath streaks of red. His blue eyes fixated on a small bundle of brownish cloth.
The taller, slender figure removed her gloves—revealing burned skin as she regarded the child with indifference.
Strangely, the child had small black horns wrapped in curling vines, along with greenish skin, almost as if she were a humanoid plant.
“An experiment… A failed one. I used part of my vital energy to create her. Only today did I learn she was alive.” The woman rolled her eyes, stepping away from the counter toward a sink. “At least Pomegranate Cookie helped feed her, but I have no reason to keep her.”
When she turned back, she found the boy standing on a small stool, on the tips of his toes, peering closely at the little one.
“Then… Is she like my sister…?” he whispered to himself.
To others, the scene would have been adorable.
But all that Dark Enchantress saw was a sign of attachment—and for a future commander of uncontrollable beasts, that meant weakness.
“Red Velvet Cookie.” He responded to the call, only turning his head. “My son, get down there. She is not worth your time.”
“Sorry, Mother, but she’s just so… I don’t know the word.” He replied, turning his attention back to the baby, who was trying to reach his face. “I can take care of her if you don’t want to”
Dark Enchantress stepped closer, placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder, letting out a quiet, mocking laugh. A chill ran down his spine.
“Boy, she is not like your cake creations. Unlike you, she lacks a crucial ingredient to even be considered worthy to—”
“But when you found me, I was missing a part too—my arm.” He interrupted, showing his cream-and-red striped arm. He met her gaze with the same tired expression. “What makes me different from her?”
Dark Enchantress lifted her chin. The audacity of this child—to interrupt and question her…?
He would be troublesome in the future…
And yet, she smiled.
“Very well. Take care of her. But do not rely on me.”
“What’s her name?” The boy finally allowed the baby to hold his face, still observing her with curiosity, though his expression remained neutral.
Dark Enchantress looked at the child on the counter—surrounded by tools that would make any other baby cry—and her eyes softened, if only slightly… Why such a reaction after saying such terrible things? Pity?
She glanced at the vines on the horns, the greenish skin, the brown cloak…
A name?
She thought… And thought…
“Mockery of Nature.”
She might be great at many things, but naming was clearly not one of them, even though she looked so confident.
Red Velvet slowly turned his head, making a faint expression—clearly disapproving—for the first time.
“Oh? If you’re going to look at me like that, choose one yourself.” She turned, hands on her hips, leaving the room with a mutter. “Hmph… It is an amazing name! I’m not like that White Lily Cookie choosing dreadful ones…”
The sound of the door slamming made both Red Velvet and the baby flinch.
The difference was that the little girl began to cry.
Acting on instinct, the boy climbed onto the counter, awkwardly picking her up—like one of his cake hounds, just as Dark Enchantress had said—but soon held her close, gently patting her back.
“You cry a lot. Just like when I met our Mother… I think that was the first time I ever really cried… But that doesn’t matter.”
He held the small, crying figure, looking around the room—searching for something better than that name.
His eyes stopped on a small plant nearby. He leaned closer, trying to read the label.
“Ma… tcha… Matcha Cookie.” He turned back to the baby. “Like the plants on your horns.”
The baby still had tears on her cheeks, but calmed as his hand wiped them away. She let out a small yawn—she was just sleepy.
The boy’s tired blue eyes finally gained a soft glimmer, followed by a faint smile.
“For me… you are just perfect, Matcha Cookie. I promise I will protect you forever…”
…
“Protect you forever…?”
How many empty promises had he made? How many had others broken? Was it even worth it?
A tall, muscular man stared at a fixed, invisible point. A massive serrated sword with red adornments rested in one hand, while his other arm—enough to make anyone stare in disgust—remained still.
Except for the claws of his index finger and thumb tapping together—a nervous tic, as if grounding himself against the storm in his mind.
Muffled voices echoed faintly.
“Commander Red Velvet Cookie, are you listening?”
He snapped out of it, turning toward two women beside him.
One, older, with white hair and purple-toned skin, sat upon a throne-like seat.
The other, a lady, dressed in a red hanbok adorned with pomegranate seeds, was the one who had spoken.
He bowed slightly.
“My apologies. I was distracted, thinking of war strategies. It was not my intention to ignore any of you...”
“I appreciate your concern, Commander, but that is not what we were discussing.” Pomegranate frowned.
“Do not worry, my dear son,” Dark Enchantress began, leaning forward. “Pomegranate Cookie was reporting certain… Incidents in the laboratories.”
“Someone implanted tea seeds into Butter Roll Cookie’s test subjects,” Pomegranate added coldly. “It resulted in several losses. And we all know who handles tea seeds.”
“We cannot afford to waste dough—or manpower, Red Velvet Cookie” she finished.
Dark Enchantress said nothing. She simply watched Red Velvet from the corner of her eye, her hands resting near her lips—though he knew very well there was a challenging smile hidden there.
Each member of Cookie of Darkness held a certain hierarchy, and some were responsible for others.
Pomegranate oversaw Poison Mushroom, Licorice, Agar Agar, and Dark Choco—though he was currently missing.
Licorice also shared responsibility over Poison Mushroom, as well as Choco Werehound Brute and Bat Cat.
Red Velvet commanded the whole legion of cake monsters, three new recruits—whom he had yet to meet—and Matcha.
He felt his shoulders tense as he understood what Dark Enchantress was implying.
“Master, you need not waste your time any further. I can punish Matcha myself and—”
“No.” he interrupted. “I will speak with her myself.”
Dark Enchantress did not object. She merely made a small gesture with her hand, dismissing him.
As he left the room, Pomegranate covered half of her face with the sleeve of her hanbok, watching him from afar—clearly irritated by his habit of interrupting others, and by the blatant favoritism Dark Enchantress insisted on showing him.
No matter how many mistakes he do, he’ll be ALWAYS praised somehow.
“Pomegranate Cookie.”
“Y-Yes, Master?”
“I want one of your mirrors to track Red Velvet Cookie for me.” She tapped her nail lightly against the table. “And I wish to watch… alone.”
Pomegranate bowed, immediately sliding one of her mirrors across the table.
When Dark Enchantress made it clear she wanted solitude, Pomegranate hesitated, wanting to protest, but ultimately remained silent, leaving the room.
Through the mirror, Dark Enchantress watches as Red Velvet marched down the corridors, heading toward the laboratories.
…
The smell was terrible—rotting carcasses, shattered flasks, ingredients scattered across the lab… But nothing the general couldn’t endure.
This wasn’t the first time he had to reprimand Matcha—but just remembering her expression, the way she would shrink…
What kind of general had a soft heart? Witches forbid!
He exhaled, running his gloved hand through his hair—until a small giggle echoed ahead in the dark hallway.
There she was. The “problematic cookie.”
He tightened his grip on his sword and straightened his posture, walking toward the sound.
“Heh… hehe…! I can’t believe it all went wrong…!” a smaller cookie trembled, clutching her staff. “Damn it… I need to get better at this. I will prove it to everyone that—”
She turned—and screamed.
Her eyes widened at the sight of him. The dim corridor light only illuminated his back, making his face dark and his presence all the more intimidating.
“Care to explain what you were trying to prove, Matcha Cookie?” he asked coldly.
“A-Ah! Ehehe… Red Velvet—”
“It’s Commander to you.”
“E-Eeh…” She shrank, hugging her staff. “I-I swear it wasn’t intentional… C-Commander…”
She glanced at him from the corner of her eye.
He knew that look. She was trying to soften him. He didn’t budge.
“I just… I just wanted to prove I’m useful! Hehe! I planted those seeds because I thought it would make the experiments stronger—and they did, didn’t they!?”
“Cookies were reduced to crumbs, Matcha Cookie. Do you truly call that a success?”
Silence fell heavy.
“We cannot waste dough. Nor manpower,” he continued. “For once—could you STOP being so incompetent and just do what you were assigned!?” His teeth clenched—not from anger.
No room for mistakes. No room for feelings…
Matcha lowered her head—but instead of crying, her brows furrowed.
“And for once… eh… For once could you try being proud of me?”
That hit him in a way he had never felt before.
Proud?
His chest tightened. Of course he was always proud—what was she talking about!?
No room for mistakes, Red Velvet Cookie…!
He stepped forward.
She didn’t move.
“You think I would praise you for this? I have to listen to Pomegranate belittle me every time you mess up—and you expect that from me!?” He leaned forward, ironically intending to belittle Matcha even more. “Then tell me—what do you want me to say!?”
Silence.
“…I want…” she murmured. “…I want my brother back…”
“Speak clearly, I can’t hear if—”
“I said—!” She looked up, tears forming. “I WANT MY BROTHER BACK!”
She lunged forward, grabbing his jacket, shaking him.
His sword fell.
“Guh! Off of me—now!” he struggled, but she held on with surprising strength.
“HEH! Give him back! Give me back my brother! I hate this, I HATE THIS! EHE- PWEHEHE” Although Matcha's tears streamed down her cheeks, she still continued to giggle and stare at the commander's face.
“Matcha Cookie! You’ll hurt yourself if you continue this!”
“SHUT UP! YOU’RE NOT HIM!!”
“What am I supposed to do—what am I supposed to do!?” he thought, trying to pry her hands off his jacket—until a sharp sting spread across his cheek.
A slap. She had the audacity to slap him!?
The frenzy between them was becoming unbearable—her screams, the blows… Even pulling his hair.
It was too much.
“Have you lost your mind!? Do you really think it would’ve been better if Pomegranate Cookie came here to punish you instead—and—OW! Stop hitting me and let go!”
But she didn’t stop.
She kept repeating the same words.
How long was this going to go on?
“I said—LET GO!”
A single sound cut through everything.
And suddenly, time froze.
Red Velvet didn’t understand what had happened—his vision went dark, and for a moment, all he could see was himself.
Was he… dissociating? Now, of all times?
What did he do?
A burning sensation spread across the back of his hand, slowly pulling him back to reality…
But how? He hadn’t touched anything hot… His gaze dropped to his gloved hand. It tingled.
Then lower—
What had once been darkness slowly gave way to a small, fragile figure.
Disheveled green hair. A trembling body, like a frightened animal.
But nothing compared to the look in her eyes—fear, hurt.
Red Velvet’s eyes widened when he noticed a slight reddened on her cheek.
He stepped back, a bead of sweat forming on his temple.
“M-Matcha Cookie… I didn’t—”
NO ROOM. FOR. MISTAKES.
“…Let this be a lesson. Leave.”
He pointed toward the corridor leading back to the central lab. Claws trembling.
“I… B-Brot…”
“Go. Now.” He turned his face away.
Matcha’s expression twisted.
Why?
Was it because she wasn’t complete? He said she was perfect.
So why—
WHY!?
“HAH…! I HATE YOU!! I’D RATHER BE CRUMBLED THAN EVER MEET YOU!!”
She grabbed her wooden staff and ran in the direction he had pointed.
Those words pierced through him like a thousand blades.
His chest tightened, feeling sick.
Honestly, it was understandable and well deserved. She didn’t need to be treated like that.
He chose to not give her the thing she wanted the most.
Slowly, he bent down and picked up his sword, watching as she disappeared around the corner, crying.
“…What have I done…?” he muttered, dragging his claws across his face—almost scratching himself.
He couldn’t stay there.
No matter how hard he tried to hold himself together—he couldn’t stop the tears.
He turned and ran in the opposite direction, hoping the only sound he made would be his frantic footsteps—and not his sobs.
Only when he reached a corridor far from the green-lit laboratories did he finally stop.
Then a metallic clang of his sword hitting the ground muffled his short, strangled cry of frustration.
Red Velvet covered his face with both hands, sliding down the wall as the weight of his actions crushed him.
He had promised. He PROMISED.
But he couldn’t protect her from himself.
The corridor was silent enough to make his low sobs echo through it.
“I’m sorry… I’m so—so sorry… Matcha Cookie…”
His hands tangled in his hair, pulling harshly—almost as if he wanted to tear it out.
He wanted to scream. Break everything, choke himself, anything.
But what would that change?
He had hurt the one he cared about the most. Nothing could justify that.
Visions crossed his mind...
A dark cloak, stained with someone’s blood and snow…
The weight of an oppressive veil over his shoulders…
A bitter taste of tea…
He had never truly protected them. The only one who deserved punishment was him.
…
He couldn’t stay there for long. The idea of someone finding him in such a… weak state wasn’t far-fetched.
He dropped his hands from his hair, letting them fall heavily to his sides, still trying to process everything.
A deep breath before standing up, picking up his sword again—though it no longer felt as heavy as his own thoughts.
He began to walk away, without looking back.
After all, it didn’t seem wise to run after her to apologize… not after that.
…
At least, on the other side of the mirror, someone was satisfied with this spectacle.