I woke up in syrup.
Sticky.
Warm.
And alarmingly delicious.
"He's awake," Vex muttered, crouched beside me on a waffle-shaped hover platform. "Try not to panic."
That's when I noticed the sky.
It was a giant griddle.
Clouds were shaped like floating pats of butter.
And the sun?
It was an angry egg yolk slowly rotating above the horizon.
WELCOME TO SECTOR SYRUP.GOVERNING BODY: THE WAFFLE EMPIRE.CURRENT RULER: LORD CRISP, BREAKFAST TYRANT.
I groaned. "Why are we always landing in food-themed apocalyptic societies?"
Toasty beeped cheerfully.
BECAUSE I RANDOMIZED THE LANDING COORDINATES WHILE LOADING "PANCAKE BEATS VOL. 6."
"YOU DID WHAT?!"
YOU'RE WELCOME.
We were dragged by robotic spatulas through syrup rivers and toast jungles, eventually arriving at the Great Waffle Throne, a coliseum of golden crunch and buttery scent.
The crowd cheered.
"CRISP! CRISP! CRISP!"
The gates opened.
Out rolled a throne on treads.
Seated atop it was a ten-foot-tall waffle with glowing eyes, a syrup cape, and a fork for a scepter.
Lord Crisp, the Waffle Warlord.
"Welcome, intruders," he said, voice oozing maple menace. "You've trespassed on sacred brunch territory."
I looked around.
"We were just—uh—passing through. You know, trying not to die."
Crisp raised his syrupy scepter. "Then survive my arena... or be turned into brunch."
A gong sounded.
And a massive oven door slammed open.
From within stepped our opponent:
PAN-KRAKEN.
A towering hybrid of pancake and kraken, dripping butter, with tentacles made of bacon.
Toasty screamed.
BOSS FIGHT MUSIC: INITIATED.
Vex leapt into action, lightning dancing across her arms. I charged my Core.
Stage 6: Entropy Storm.
We attacked in sync—slashes of electric chaos, blasts of hot rage. The Pan-Kraken whipped bacon limbs at us, slapping the battlefield into sticky chaos.
"I DIDN'T COME HERE TO DIE IN A DINER!" I shouted, dodging a flapjack tentacle.
Vex conjured a lightning spear and shouted, "You're the reason I'll never eat breakfast again!"
Then the Pan-Kraken screamed—
AND SPLIT INTO SEVEN MINI-KRAKENS.
Each one riding a sausage rocket.
"Oh come ON!" I yelled.
Toasty deployed turret mode, shooting syrup-absorbing napkin bullets while playing Eye of the Tiger on pan flute.
I dove into the center, punching through krakens like a blender on overdrive.
Then Crisp stood, aura boiling.
He shouted, "I AM BRUNCH MADE FLESH!"
His syrup cape spread like wings. He flew.
And I—having lost all grip on reality—yelled:
"TOASTY! INITIATE FINAL FORM!"
Toasty gleamed. Folded inward. Unfolded outward.
Behold:
PANINI MECHA MODE.
Toasty became a towering robot with spatula arms, a breakfast cannon, and eggshell armor.
I leapt into the cockpit.
"Let's burn this breakfast!"
Mecha-Toasty launched a barrage of molten hashbrowns.
Crisp blocked with his scepter—but not before I body slammed him into a stack of sacred waffles.
BOOM.
The coliseum exploded into syrup and fire.
The dust settled.
I stood atop Mecha-Toasty, fist raised.
"Breakfast is served."