Grimecity woke up to a neon drizzle. Kurok stretched, virus energy still crackling in his fingers. Today's menu? Chaos, optional explosions, and maybe breakfast.
"Breakfast first," Nana "Wireblade" announced, flipping through the air like a metallic tornado. She slashed a vending machine, and a shower of enchanted donuts rained down on them. Some donuts were alive—tiny, screaming jelly monsters—but perfectly edible.
"Eat up, or explode," Kurok muttered, grabbing one. The moment it touched his tongue, he felt a burst of absurd power. His shadow briefly sprouted tiny arms and tried to wrestle a streetlamp.
Dr. Gloubi stumbled out of a back alley carrying a new concoction: a glowing jar labeled *"Fireball Frappe – Do Not Drink"*. He tripped, the jar bounced, and BOOM! Colored smoke and harmless miniature explosions covered the block. Passersby screamed—mostly out of surprise—but no one was harmed.
The Screaming Twins hovered above, telekinetically juggling pigeons and paper planes. "Catch!" they yelled, tossing enchanted rats with party hats. The city's chaos rating officially spiked.
Suddenly, a massive creature appeared—a gooey, multi-eyed demon resembling a walking spaghetti pile. It waved a tentacle at them, clearly offended by the theft of its donuts.
"Looks like someone's hangry," Kurok said, licking his fingers. Without thinking, he touched the creature. Instantly, it turned into a bouncing, donut-filled slime. It squealed in delight… and started launching mini donuts at everyone.
"Perfect," Nana cheered, slicing through flying pastries like a pro. Dr. Gloubi danced between explosions, trying to catch as many as possible for… reasons only he understood.
By the time the corporation drones arrived, the street was a **mess of bouncing donut slimes, flying rats, and glitter explosions**. Kurok, Nana, and Gloubi stood triumphant, covered in sticky chaos, laughing as the drones scanned them.
"Just another normal day in Grimecity," Kurok said, tossing a donut at a hovering drone, which promptly exploded in a rainbow puff.
And somewhere in the shadows, the corporate watchers scribbled notes furiously. Whoever controlled this virus… was **completely uncontainable**.