It was that dream again.
The weight of the shotgun in my hands. The deafening silence after the shot. The warm splatter of blood that belonged to someone I once swore to protect.
And the applause of that man, him. The puppeteer behind my strings, the architect of my shame.
Even now, I could still hear the soft clap... clap... clap, each one like a nail in my mind.
The dream always ended the same: with his smile, and my soul shattered.
But that was then.
And I broke his neck with my own hands.
That thought alone helped me breathe. Helped me move.
I blinked away the heavy air, sat up in bed, and found comfort in this strange new world where dreams—however nightmarish—didn't dictate reality.
[Grey]: …Just a dream. Just a memory.
I rolled my shoulders, brushed off the sensation, and stepped out of the black-silk abyss that was my bedroom. The castle's hallways shimmered with faint abysmal light, gentle and surreal, like swimming through a dream that wasn't a nightmare for once. Glowing mushrooms lit the way with soft bioluminescence, and mutated wall-vines waved cheerfully as I passed. I ignored them.
Halfway down the corridor, I nearly bumped into Alpha.
Energetic as always.
Clanking in what looked like a lamp post armor. Like actual street lamps. Some are still flickering. One was buzzing.
[Grey]: Morning, Alpha. That armor's... illuminating.
[Alpha]: Morning, Boss! You like it? Found it in a junkyard—blessed it with a prayer and three cans of oil!
He flexed, and a lamplight on his shoulder blinked twice, then popped. I didn't question it.
[Grey]: How'd you all do after I left?
[Alpha]: We didn't get kicked out... even when Douplo ate fish with steak and jam with honey sauce—and drank soup mixed with mead and wine… Said it was 'exploring culinary boundaries.
He gave me a look that said, 'That's not even the weird part.'
[Alpha]: Also... Tri ate someone's shoes. The guy cried. We bought him new ones.
There was a long pause.
I blinked.
[Grey]: ...Were they expensive shoes?
[Alpha]: Very. Elf-made. Custom. The owner screamed in five languages before fainting.
[Grey]: ...Impressive. And a little worrying.
I lit a new cigar and made a mental note to keep Tri on a leash next time.
Still, it was... peaceful. A new morning. A new world. A strange, chaotic family who, for better or worse, stood by me.
And unlike the old world—
Here, I was free.
I let out a low sigh and pinched the bridge of my nose.
[Grey]: I can feel Mama Mia's stress from here.
[Alpha]: She's already sent a warning letter. It arrived by dagger. Stabbed into the castle door.
I couldn't help but smirk. As annoying as it was, it meant we were still alive, still causing trouble, still waking up from bad dreams into a world where I had control now.
[Grey]: Let's go get breakfast before someone cooks something that shouldn't be edible.
Alpha and I strode into the dining hall like we hadn't just left a trail of chaos yesterday. The room was already halfway into another catastrophe.
Douplo was pouring syrup into a steaming bowl of clam chowder with the delicacy of a mad alchemist. Next to him, Tri was chewing on a table leg—again. Frostbite Howl sat by the window, oiling his halberd while nursing a drink that definitely looked like it had motor oil in it. Glares Pinewood was sipping tea, eyes glowing ominously, quietly whispering something to the floating spoon stirring her cup.
The moment I stepped in, all eyes turned to me.
Some lit up with joy.
Others with worry.
Tri wagged his tail and barked a greeting before snapping off another chunk of furniture.
[Douplo]: Boss! You want some breakfast fusion?! It's chowder-glazed toast with strawberry bacon!
[Grey]: I want a priest to exorcise that sentence from existence.
Glares raised an eyebrow but said nothing, just kept sipping. Her presence alone could make a whole noble ballroom go silent. She liked silence. Probably because she used to cause it.
I took a deep breath of the bizarre but cozy atmosphere. Despite their quirks, this was starting to feel... like home.
I walked over to the table and sat down just as Hestia herself stumbled in, bleary-eyed, hair like a chaotic divine storm, clutching a pillow and a rolled-up scroll.
[Hestia]: Why was there a pair of flaming underpants on my shrine this morning?!
All eyes slowly drifted to Tri, who hiccuped and belched a fireball.
[Tri]: ...They were possessed. I purified them.
Hestia groaned, set the scroll down on the table, and flopped face-first into the nearest chair.
[Hestia]: You're all going to get us excommunicated...
[Grey]: Better excommunicated than bored.
Hestia gave me a look—half amusement, half surrender.
[Alpha]: We also got another message, Boss. From the guild. They said, 'Please stop coming in with mobs. It terrifies the staff.'
I nodded, solemn.
[Grey]: They'll get used to it. Or go insane. Either way, problem solved.
Laughter broke out at the table. Real, warm, wild laughter.
The kind I hadn't heard since before the betrayal.
I took a bite of toast—normal toast this time—and let it sit on my tongue like a reminder:
This is real. This is mine.
A Familia of freaks, monsters, misfits, and me.
The man in the dream couldn't reach here.
The past couldn't follow.
Not if I kept moving forward.
[Grey]: All right, finish up. We're heading to the Dungeon today. And I swear—if Tri eats another adventurer's boots, I'm putting him on a leash. A glowing one. With spikes.
Tri wagged his tail, completely unfazed.
[Douplo]: Can it have a bell?
[Grey]: It can have three.
I blinked.
Then blinked again.
Then squinted.
Tri's silver tail was wagging. Slowly. Almost bashfully. Like it had always been there, and I was the weird one for only noticing now.
But Tri never had a tail. He was vaguely eldritch. Vaguely humanoid. Vaguely, "will eat your boots for fun."
But not canine.
I leaned in slightly, staring like I was about to declare this a sacred mystery.
[Grey]: …Tri. Why do you have a tail?
Time stopped.
No. Literally. I'm 87% sure time physically froze in that moment. Alpha dropped his fork mid-air, and it just… stayed there. Hovering.
Forks stopped midair. Toast dropped. Alpha's flickering streetlamp armor dimmed like even the electricity was shocked.
Everyone stared. First, that's me.
Then at Tri.
Then… at his tail.
Even Tri turned his head in slow motion and spotted it, his face gradually morphing from happy confusion to open-mouthed shock… looked behind him… saw the fluffy, twitching silver tail…and screamed.
The entire room joined in.
[Everyone]: AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!
Right then, the doors exploded inward, splinters flying as Alexander, fully armored and mid-battle growl, crashed in through the doorway like a war god at brunch.
Bell was right behind him, still putting on his pants.
[Alexander]: WE HEARD A SCREAM! IS IT A MONSTER?!
[Bell]: ARE WE UNDER ATTACK?! IS THIS A RAID?!
Then they both froze mid-panic… eyes zeroing in on Tri.
On the tail.
On the ears.
There was a collective moment of silent realization.
Then Alexander casually walked over, snatched Douplo's nightmare stew, and downed it like a true warlord...
[Douplo]: ...You're eating my breakfast.
[Alexander]: I eat stress. I'm very stressed.
And promptly joined the chorus.
[Everyone + Alexander + Bell]: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!
The mutated vines on the walls retracted in terror. A chandelier blinked and fell off the ceiling. Glares Pinewood cast a silence spell on the entire room, then dispelled it two seconds later just to scream again herself.
Tri stood in the middle of it all, tail wagging faster from pure panic.
[Tri]: I didn't have this yesterday! I would have remembered!! Did I grow it overnight?! Do I molt?!
[Grey]: YOU. HAVE. WOLF. EARS.
[Alpha]: …Is this evolution? Did he eat a werewolf?
[Douplo]: Does this mean he's eligible for beastman tax breaks now?
[Bell]: Wait… I… I think it's cute…
Everyone turned to Bell.
[Everyone]: TRAITOR.
[10 Minutes into Furry Crisis, Ten agonizing, tail-filled minutes.]
[Status: Critical Fluff Overload. Structural Integrity: Holding by Sheer Panic.]
By now, Tri had stopped shrieking and instead begun a slow spiral into chasing his own tail, knocking over three chairs and Douplo's emergency honey soup.
Alpha was trying to hug everyone for emotional support, still glowing like a deranged lamppost. And Douplo had made something vaguely edible—a calming tea, served in skull-shaped cups.
[Grey]: Okay. Everyone, calm down.
I cracked my knuckles like I was about to lead a battlefield briefing.
[Grey]: Alpha—get Glares to stop chanting the 'Ancient Binding of Howl Form. Tri—stop trying to bite your own butt. You're not flexible enough, and you're gonna dislocate your spine. Douplo—make something that won't try to crawl out of the bowl.
The chaos paused. Slightly.
Douplo snapped out of his "Spaghetti Volcano Mode" and immediately started crafting a stew that probably wouldn't scream back.
[Alexander]:…You're good at this.
[Grey]: I used to babysit warlocks. This is easier, One tried to summon a storm god inside a fruit pie, though.
I pointed at the trio of fluffy disasters I called my hunters.
I inhaled deeply, and turned to face the biggest mystery since "Why did we add napalm to the cooking oil?"
[Grey]: Now… we need to figure out what happened and why. Alright, Hunters—report.
The three nightmare horrors known as Alpha, Tri, and Douplo stood up straight.
[Alpha, Tri, and Douplo]: Yes, Boss!
They saluted. Their tails wagged.
Like good boys.
It would've been dignified… if not for the synchronized WAG-WAG-WAG of glowing red, silver, and flickering streetlamp-yellow tails behind them.
Click. Click. Click.
I blinked once.
Then I blinked again.
Click.
[Grey]: …Lady Hestia. I need a spell. Something that lets me see hidden enchantments, curses, divine tampering… or general bullshit.
[Hestia]: Okay.
She cast it with a flick of her fingers and a soft chant.
My vision shimmered.
I blinked.
Once.
Twice.
And then, slowly, turned to Bell Cranel.
Thank every god and their grandkids—no ears. No tail. Just regular Bell. Regular pure cinnamon roll.
I exhaled.
Then turned to Alpha and Douplo.
Tails.
Flickering.
[Grey]: …Alpha. Douplo. Why do you two also have tails?
The silence was deafening.
Then—
[Glares]: Please allow me the honor…
She fainted gracefully, hit the floor in slow motion like a falling cherry blossom, cloak fluttering as though it, too, was too overwhelmed to function.
[Everyone]: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!
[Bell]: "Yebb."
Everyone froze.
We all looked at Bell.
His face went red as his brand-new fluffy fox tail curled bashfully behind him, ears twitching, too adorable for this plane of existence.
[Grey]: …You gotta be kidding me.
Glares just woke up, rising from the floor, with nose blood pouring like a geyser.
[Glares]: He's... transcended. I need to sketch this. Paint this. Carve it into the moon!
I deadpan stared.
[Grey]: …I swear to every deity in Heaven, Hell, and the bar across the street—if I wake up tomorrow and I have a tail, I'm detonating the moon.
Then I paused, realization settling like cold tea.
[Grey]: Now, where were we…
[Everyone]: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!
[Later]
The furry crisis still haunted our footsteps.
I wore a black facemask stitched with magical seals, wards, charms, anti-curse patches, and one angry warning sigil that read:
"NO TAILS BEYOND THIS LINE."
Bell wore a hood. He was glowing. Not figuratively. He was actually glowing. The divine residue of "Fox-Boy Adoraburst" hadn't faded yet.
The three nightmare Hunters were back in combat mode, thankfully, though Tri kept twitching every time he saw his own tail's shadow.
And yes, I was still tail-free.
So far.
We passed through the Guild relatively unnoticed. Mostly because I threatened the first man who said "Nya?" with a cursed spoon and a lawsuit.
Now, we were here—Middle Floors.
Floor 13. The moss-covered labyrinth. Cool air. Dim light. The hum of magic stones all around.
[Grey]: Alright, team. Formation Wrath-Spiral-Delta. Stay alert, watch the walls—
A loud splat echoed down the hallway.
[Tri]: GREY THERE'S A GIANT SLIME—OH GOD IT'S LIKE A COUSIN!!
It wasn't.
But it was translucent and vaguely judgmental.
[Grey]: Focus. Tri, don't hug the slime.
[Douplo]: These will melt through the crystal crab armor. Don't drink them unless you want to forget math forever.
[Alpha]: Contact left. Garm Fanglings. Four. Possibly five. Trying to flank.
Good. That meant they were back in sync.
Bell was with Ais. He was training outside with her
I walked past a still-twitching goblin.
[Grey]: Reminder, if you fall, and someone makes a tail pun, I am not liable for your suffering.
We moved deeper. The dungeon seemed… off. It wasn't just monsters. It was energy.
Twisted. Almost playful.
Like the floor itself had witnessed our tail-pocalypse and decided:
"Yeah. Let's keep that energy."
[Grey]: Alpha. Douplo. Tri. Report anything weird.
[Tri]: There's a glowing paw print on this wall!
[Alpha]: That statue has cat ears.
[Douplo]: …My spoon just grew whiskers.
I stared into the void for a full six seconds.
[Grey]: I hate this dungeon.
[Evening – Return from Dungeon. Status: Cuteness Containment Failure]
The dungeon crawl was bloody, brutal, and—miraculously—tail-growth free.
Loot: Sold.
Crystals: Counted.
Goblins: Diced.
Monsters: Roasted (literally, thanks to Tri's fire-glazed tail sweep).
Glares: Recovered from "Tail-Induced Artistic Seizure Syndrome."
We returned victorious.
And that's when we walked into Hestia bleeding from the nose like a ruptured dam.
She was on the couch.
Collapsed.
A painting of Bell, mid-combat with his fluffy fox ears and tail flowing heroically behind him, was propped against the divine altar.
[Hestia]: He's… too… cute… I saw the sketch… Glares… she painted it on the ceiling… he looks like a cinnamon bun…
Her head fell back dramatically.
I looked as I was sipping tea cautiously
[Grey]: You did this to yourself.
[Alexander]: She said 'I can handle it' before bleeding out in under five seconds.
Bell stood awkwardly near the table, still glowing faintly.
His tail twitched once.
Hestia flatlined again.
Good thing I have my face mask on
[Grey]: Okay, before we lose more gods to fluff-induced strokes, we're going to the Hostess of Fertility. Maybe normal food and normal people will save my sanity.
[Douplo]: But I made boiled axehorn!
Tri was already chewing the handle.
[Tri]: Mmmm, iron-fiber texture.
[Grey]: No.
[Hostess of Fertility – That Night]
The tavern was lively. Warm lights. Good food. Smiling waitresses. Normalcy.
We entered like a carnival sideshow.
Bell is still hooded.
My Hunters in cloaks.
I, in my facemask, eyeing every sparkle of magic in the room like it owed me money.
[Syr]: Welcome back, Hestia Familia! Long day?
[Grey]: ...You have no idea.
As we took our seats, Mama Mia gave us the look.
The "Don't you start a fight or bring a goddamn circus in here again" look.
Fair.
Food arrived.
Plates clinked.
Steam rose.
Someone moaned in delight over a baked monster rib soaked in syrup wine sauce.
[Grey]: …Okay. I can live with this.
Then Bell sneezed.
A high-pitched, foxlike "Yipp!"
Every waitress paused.
Lunoire dropped a tray.
Runoa walked into a chair.
And Syr's eyes sparkled like she'd just discovered a new species of adorableness.
[Grey]: I feel it. I feel the incoming squeals. Someone stop this madness.
[Hestia]: If he wears a suit with a tail hole, I will ascend.
[Alexander]: You are already a goddess.
[Hestia]: Then I will double ascend.
By the time dessert rolled around, someone had knitted Bell a tiny bowtie for his tail.
He did not resist.
I did.
I resisted so hard that I bit through my spoon.
[Grey]: If he gets a fan club by tomorrow morning, I'm moving to another timeline.
[Extra]
[Title: Bell Cranel and the Fluff and The Secret Auction of Fluff]
It began quietly.
Too quietly.
After dinner, Grey went to bed, wrapped in three comforters, a mask still on, muttering something about "anti-fur enchantments" and "if the moon twitches, I swear."
She never saw it coming.
[Location: Unknown – Somewhere Underneath Orario]
[Status: [Redacted] Level Divine Incident]
Lit by floating candles and the faint glow of enchanted ink, Glares—cloaked, trembling with devotion—finished her masterwork.
"Bell Cranel, Fox-Eared Hero of the Flame."
Painted on enchanted canvas. Framed in dungeon crystal. Blessed by seventeen charms of 'Eternal Cuteness.'
She whispered, reverently:
[Glares]: It is complete…
Behind her, a crowd of cloaked figures stood.
Gods.
Goddesses.
Mortal collectors with poor judgment and too much money.
And Freya.
[Freya]: I'll start the bidding. One hundred thousand valis. And a memory of Bell's smile from this morning.
[Loki]: Hah! Weak! One million valis and an autograph of Ais Wallenstein. And I'll throw in a cursed dagger signed by Ottar.
[Hephaestus]: Two million, plus a magical forge I haven't used since the Age of Heroes.
[Ishtar]: I will own that painting. Five million, and my best assassin's phone number.
[Hermes]: Six million! And a scandalous letter I once intercepted between Bell and Syr!
[Demeter]: I made jam.
Everyone stared.
[Demeter]: …It's divine jam.
[Chaos Erupts]
Somebody tried to teleport the painting.
Somebody else cursed the teleport spell.
The painting bounced between seven divine pockets.
Then—
BOOM!
A slap bet.
A literal divine slap bet.
Loki and Freya threw down.
Freya in her final form—calm, elegant, terrifying.
Loki already drunk, spinning a bottle and summoning divine glitter knives.
Tables flipped.
Ais showed up to drag Loki home.
Mia showed up just to punch Ishtar.
Glares was painting another copy in the background, foaming with passion.
[Outcome – 3 AM]
Freya won.
Barely.
The painting was teleported to her bath chamber, where it now resides behind seven magical wards, three laser barriers, and a hydra.
[Meanwhile, at Hestia's Castle…]
Gery, who was asleep, snoring softly under her pillow
[Grey]: …If I see one more tail, I'm flipping the Earth…
Outside her room, a courier quietly left a note:
"Dear Grey,
The painting is safe. The goddesses are less so.
Bell is still cute.
Sincerely,
Not Glares."
[New Title Acquired: Bell Cranel – Divine Muse of Cuteness]
Effect: +1000 Charm vs Goddesses. +200% Tail Flicker Grace.
Hidden Effect: Occasionally causes nosebleeds in observers.
[Chapter end]