Let me preface this by saying: I didn't ask for a magical therapy picnic.
The System, in its infinite wisdom (read: barely contained glitch-ridden chaos), decided that after facing divine court, repressed memory echoes, and the latest Fluffernox-sponsored religious decree, what I needed was—
"A supervised emotional recalibration session."
And thus, I found myself in a forest clearing with enchanted blankets, softly chirping birds, ambient mood orbs floating above, and a picnic basket so aesthetically curated it made my trauma twitch.
The Spoon sat nestled in a plate of deviled eggs, wearing a tiny straw hat.
"I'm not doing this," I said flatly, arms crossed.
"You already are," Belladonna said from her aggressively regal perch on a stump. She wasn't sitting. No. She was throning, tiara gleaming, emotionally fortified by three cups of rose-scented tea and centuries of denial.
Seraphina offered me a sandwich.
"It's enchanted with calm," she said gently. "And turkey."
"I will die before I eat a sandwich made by a divine Saint programmed for inner peace."
"You literally almost died yesterday from a prophetic soup explosion," Mirielle said, munching on a cookie. "So maybe don't tempt fate with sandwich hubris."
I looked around. Everyone else had accepted the therapy picnic.
Aureline was constructing a tiny rune circle out of cucumbers. Belladonna sipped her tea like it insulted her ancestors. Seraphina hummed as she cast light spells into butterflies. And Fluffernox was sitting on top of the sandwich platter, tail flicking, gaze locked on me with the unblinking judgment of a feline god.
Fine.
Fiiiiiiiiiine.
I sat down. The grass felt like it had been emotionally support-cropped by woodland nymphs. The blanket sighed softly beneath me. The air smelled like lavender and false hope.
"So," said the Spoon from its egg nest. "Who wants to start with their deepest unprocessed grief?"
"Absolutely not," I replied.
"Wonderful! Kael volunteers."
Belladonna and Mirielle turned in unison. Seraphina gave me the patented saintly look of encouragement. Fluffernox yawned.
"Guys. Seriously. I don't do emotional damage. I'm a sarcastic glitch with a spoon and a backlog of identity crises. I contain multitudes. Of denial."
"Which is why this is necessary," Aureline said, placing the cucumber rune directly over my left shoe. "Also, Fluffernox added magical incentive."
"What kind of incentive?"
"You'll find out if you leave."
I tried to stand. The grass beneath me flexed. The blanket tightened. A sudden, invisible pressure anchored me like a soul weighted by emotional baggage.
"YOU BONDED ME TO THE BLANKET?!"
"It's a soul therapy weave," Seraphina said, folding her hands. "Reacts to unresolved feelings."
"You all are insane."
"You are literally the most unstable Echo Candidate in history," Belladonna said dryly. "Pot, kettle, etc."
"Let's begin," the Spoon said cheerfully. "Kael, tell us about your first glitch."
"No."
"Very good. Resistance is the first step to healing."
"I hate everything."
"We'll start easy," Seraphina offered. "How did you feel during the Reflection Core trial?"
"Like someone threw my soul into a mirror maze and made me choose which Kael was the least emotionally repressed. Which, by the way, was none of them."
"Ah," the Spoon mused. "The classic paradox of fragmented identity under prophetic collapse."
"That's not a real phrase."
"It is now."
I inhaled. Exhaled. Accidentally triggered a breath-based mana feedback loop and made a butterfly combust.
"Let's just... not talk about me. Can we unpack anyone else's emotional soup instead?"
"No deflection," Seraphina said gently.
Belladonna's eyes narrowed.
"Wait," she said. "What did you see in that Reflection Core?"
Oh no.
"Just versions of myself. You know. Normal stuff. Evil Kael. Harem Kael. Soup Deity Kael. The usual."
"And?"
"And I chose to stay me."
Belladonna's gaze softened for a fraction of a moment.
Then hardened again. "Which version did you almost choose?"
Seraphina leaned forward. Mirielle stopped chewing. The Spoon made a dramatic musical sting.
I looked down at the grass. It rippled slightly beneath me. Even the air had stilled.
"The Kael who didn't care anymore."
Silence.
"That's the one who would've walked away," I said. "From the prophecy. From all of you. He didn't want to be fixed. He just wanted it to stop."
The blanket's magic shifted. Warmth surged under my palms. Gentle. Anchoring.
Seraphina placed a hand on mine.
"But you didn't become him."
"No. Because despite everything, I... couldn't let go."
Belladonna looked away. Her voice, when she spoke, was nearly a whisper.
"Good."
Fluffernox leapt down onto my lap, tail wrapping around me like a tether. It purred. Probably to distract from the tears I wasn't crying.
"Okay," Mirielle said, clapping her hands. "Ten points to Kael for being emotionally devastating! Who's next?"
"I think we all need a break," Aureline said, and activated a circle.
POP!
Instant picnic expansion. Now with pastries. Magical stardust tea. A cheese board that whispered compliments.
"This is excessive," I mumbled.
"You're excessive," said the cheese.
The picnic resumed with less trauma and more sugar. Belladonna and Seraphina quietly traded poems (they thought I didn't notice), Mirielle convinced Fluffernox to bless her latest pastry concoction, and the Spoon attempted to seduce a bottle of wine.
I sat quietly, watching them.
And for once, I didn't feel like a glitch.
I felt like... me.
A chaotic mess, sure. But one who maybe, just maybe, had people who cared.
The wind whispered through the clearing.
The Mask of Echo, tucked in my pack beside me, pulsed once—softly.
I took a bite of the sandwich.
It wasn't half bad.
Next Time on Kaelverse:
Chapter 93: "The Tribunal Summons (And I May Be Under Soup Arrest)"
Because emotional healing isn't real until you're on trial for divine fraud, magical perjury, and being too attractive at a masquerade.
Bring snacks.