Chapter Text
Three Ancient Heroes sat around their meeting table, soul jams glinting dimly. Pure Vanilla Cookie was tapping his finger on the marble, a line of firm concentration etched into his brow. Dark Cacao Cookie positioned himself stiffly, hands grasping his sword as if ready to spring up at a moments notice. Hollyberry Cookie leant back in her chair, eyes darting awkwardly to the floating figure in the corner of the room.
A floating figure known infamously as Timekeeper Cookie, who, as of right now, seemed about as dangerous as a domesticated puppy. Looks can be deceiving, however.
A fact they all would soon come to learn.
Gingerbrave, the final hero in the room, had his stubby arms wrapped around a luminous glass jar, fully prepared to risk life and limb for it if need be. This jar just so happened to hold none other than the Light of Solidarity itself. Crucial to the survival of Earthbread. If it was destroyed, the timeline as they knew it would collapse around them.
An outcome everyone with good sense was desperately trying to avoid.
"You're staring," Timekeeper intoned, tilting her head. "Did no one ever tell you it's rude to stare?"
Hollyberry immediately ducked her head, shield held tense at her side. "Ah. Right. My bad..." Though, much to the other cookie's irritation and reluctant amusement, she continued stealing puzzled glances.
"I'm more than sure we have bigger problems to deal with than mere curiosity," Dark Cacao snapped, side-eying the Light of Solidarity bitterly, though he had not a clue where the sudden resentment had come from. Gingerbrave flinched reflexively.
"Spare me that, old man," Timekeeper scoffed. "I'm only trying to lighten the mood a little. After all, look at you. You've got no proper plan, you've failed to protect the Radiant Cookie more times than I can count, and for some reason I've yet to catch up on, you've postponed your trip to the First Oven! It's pathetic!"
Dark Cacao opened his mouth to object, but quickly found the retort didn't come as easily as he'd hoped it to.
"Pure Vanilla Cookie has a plan," Gingerbrave whispered, barely audible. The poor boy was shaken, and rightfully so. But he still held onto hope. "Right, Pure Vanilla Cookie?"
The king peered over his shoulder at his young friend, and gave the brightest smile he could manage. "I am forming one, dear Gingerbrave."
"I don't mean to rush you," Hollyberry inhaled through her teeth. "But could you perhaps try forming it... quicker?"
"I agree with jolly holly over here," Timekeeper nodded, twirling her cartoonishly large pair of scissors. "Believe you me, we'll soon run out of time."
Pure Vanilla looked down at his hands. For a few painful moments, everything went silent. No bickering, no name-calling, no blame games. No plan.
That was, until...
"Timelines!" Pure Vanilla exclaimed, pushing himself out of his seat with such force that even Dark Cacao looked surprised. "That's it! That's the plan!"
An awkward pause.
"... what?"
The king frowned, rubbing the back of his head. "Ahem... and by that I mean..." He turned to Timekeeper, tapped her foot in wait. "You can move through the timelines, can't you? Travel dimensions, pass across the multiverse as if it were simple."
"Naturally."
"Wouldn't that also mean you could, theoretically, bring the multiverse to you?"
Timekeeper raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Aaaand that helps us... how, exactly?"
Pure Vanilla flung his arms wide in a grand gesture, soul jam twinkling brightly on his chest. "What if we summon a being powerful enough to match our enemy? If there's no one in this timeline strong enough to beat Shadow Milk Cookie, surely there will be somewhere else!"
Another awkward pause. A considerate pause.
"It could work," Hollyberry folded her arms. "Our soul jams could do it, I'm sure. They've done other impossible things, haven't they?"
"They've never summoned anything before," Dark Cacao grumbled, but the shimmer in his eyes hoped it could be true. "If this doesn't work, we're wasting precious time. And even if it does... who knows what would happen? We could end up more doomed than are now!"
Evidently ignoring his protests, Timekeeper slid into step on the floor, curiosity already bubbling in her twisted little mind. With one swift swoop, she grazed the tip of her golden scissors across the floor in a circle shape, a glimmering deep blue portal expanding to fit the space. Gingerbrave gasped.
It was gorgeous.
And endless.
"There are limits," She deadpanned, back to tapping her foot on the floor. "I could do a quick search for powers that match that of the soul jams, but it would have to be the souls of those disconnected from their original timeline. Simply floating in space, detached from their earthly bodies, however not entirely dead. It's a stretch, and highly unlikely, but it's not impossible. Though I would need an idea of how soul jam magic works, so if you all could just lay them down around my little portal here..."
Pure Vanilla practically threw his onto the floor, bouncing with excitement at the prospect of his mad plan actually working. Trusting in her friend's judgement, Hollyberry quickly followed suit, albeit still a little shaky on the whole concept. After a few short moments, Dark Cacao finally caved, grumbling bitterly as he did the same.
"Wonderful," Timekeeper nodded, dipping a hand into the shimmering abyss and watching it disappear with distant amusement. "Give me a couple minutes, I'll see if any souls are floating around in there. Ones that reach the proper requirements, of course."
"This is a horrible idea," Dark Cacao mumbled, though a spiteful "be quiet, you old grump" from his pink-haired ally a few metres away was enough to shut him up.
And there they waited, silently mesmerised by the measured glow of the opening in front of them. They didn't wait very long, however. It could have only been a few minutes at most before Timekeeper shot back up the hole, hands covered in some sort of black, sticky goop. She looked pleased, however, and held out the vile mess with a mischievous grin.
"Didn't take long, see!"
Gingerbrave leant over to Pure Vanilla. "Is this part of your plan?"
Pure Vanilla rubbed the back of his head. "Er... not exactly..."
Sensing the doubt floating around, Hollyberry stepped forward, reaching out a hand towards the substance. Almost immediately, it latched onto her dough with an iron grip, slinking up her arm. She yelped in surprise, tumbling backwards and into the table and chairs, trying and failing to shake it off. Timekeeper giggled, amused.
"Hollyberry Cookie-!" Pure Vanilla squealed, running forward to help his friend. Gingerbrave and Dark Cacao quickly followed, panicking as they grabbed bunches of the slime, tugging it as hard as possible. Hollyberry winced, steadying herself on a table leg.
"Calm down, cookies," Timekeeper laughed, continuing to stand there and do absolutely nothing. "It's just feeding. It will be done in a little while, not to fret."
"Not to fret? Not to fret?" Hollyberry repeated, gesturing emphatically. "That's all very well and good, but I think you've forgotten that it's chosen meal seems to be... oh, I don't know... ME!?"
"Please, spare me the shock and awe. You've got an open cut, is all. It's still weak. It won't take much."
"Wow. That makes me feel so much better." The queen deadpanned, dough paling slightly.
Pure Vanilla bit his lip, a wave of guilt crashing over him. This was his plan, but he'd never intended his ally to get hurt in the process. "I'm so sorry, my friend...! I had no idea that you'd-"
The king paused, dropping his train of thought. The blob had begun to move, dripping off of Hollyberry's arm and onto the floor, twitching and pulsing. Gingerbrave covered his mouth with one hand as he tried not to gag, still gripping the vessel in his other.
Over the course of two agonising minutes, the heap formed four, stubby legs. A sleek torso. A flexible tail, so animated it could pass off as a fifth limb. A face and triangular ears disturbingly reminiscent of one ordinary feline.
A house cat.
Now fully built, the cat stood, unwavering. Normal. Its eyes were so big and flawlessly yellow that they looked like headlights, its paws so furry and its tail so delicate.
It just seemed so adorable, which was a terrifying thought. So harmless.
The assembled cookies mouths hung open in shock and awe, all except the smug, thin line of Timekeeper's.
"I told you." She quipped, shrugging a shoulder.
The cat turned to her, ears flicking up and down alternatively.
"Told them what?"