2025-04-20 06:54:29The sun hadn’t yet risen over Grimglade City, but the Cauldron District was already buzzing with magical mischief. Cauldrons belched steam from every window, talking toads argued over rent, and enchanted frying pans floated down the street, hunting ingredients for breakfast. It was chaos — the kind Rico Maldino used to call home.
Disguised in a faded hoodie and glamour shades that made him look like a retired rockstar-turned-janitor, Rico moved through the crowded market with caution. He passed a goblin selling illegal weather spells, a fairy in a trench coat hawking memory-wiping mints, and a half-giant barber offering beard extensions with optional fire resistance. He stopped at an old, crooked building wedged between two glowing taco shops: Madam Pipplewick’s Potions & Secrets. The shop hadn’t changed — same cracked sign, same suspiciously twitchy cat in the window. He knocked once. Then twice. Then once more, followed by a badly hummed theme song from Magewatch. The door creaked open, and a tiny wrinkled woman peered out, her monocle glowing red. “Rico,” she croaked. “You smell like trouble and overpriced incense.” “Good morning to you too, Madam P,” he said, slipping inside. “I’m here for answers.” Inside, the shop looked like a potion factory had exploded — upside down. Bottles floated in mid-air, books flapped like birds, and the chandelier kept trying to bite people. Madam Pipplewick tapped the air with her wand, and everything snapped into order… more or less. “So,” she said, pouring him a cup of something vaguely green, “why are you out of hiding?” Rico sipped and winced. It tasted like melted broccoli mixed with regret. “The M.A.G.I.C. agents came after me last night. Said I violated the Arcane Ban Act. Thing is — I didn’t. Haven’t touched Enchanta in three years.” Pipplewick narrowed her eyes. “Someone must’ve used your signature. You were sloppy with your branding, Rico. You put your initials on your spell packs.” He groaned. “It was good marketing!” She stood and opened a cabinet full of sealed evidence jars — each one containing glowing samples of illegal spells. She pulled one down labeled E-MX-RM-99. “This hit the streets two nights ago,” she said. “Mutated Enchanta. It’s unstable. Causes hallucinations, memory reversals, even... temporary dragonhood.” Rico blinked. “I beg your pardon?” “We had a banker turn into a dragon, then try to pay his mortgage with sheep.” Rico stood. “Who’s making it?” Pipplewick leaned in close. “Rumors say the Obsidian Cartel is back. And they’re using your old recipe.” Rico’s stomach twisted. The Obsidian Cartel wasn’t just a criminal gang. They were warlocks turned warlords — dark magic dealers who once tried to enchant the entire city into becoming unpaid interns. He’d taken them down years ago, but now... “They’re setting me up,” he muttered. “Trying to paint me as the comeback king.” “Either that,” Pipplewick said, “or someone really wants you dead.” --- Meanwhile, in a smoky chamber beneath the city… A long obsidian table stretched across the room. Around it sat the Obsidian Council — six cloaked figures and one sentient fog cloud. At the head of the table stood Lord Varnox, cloaked in shadow, eyes like glowing coal. He waved a hand, and a glowing orb displayed Rico’s escape from the M.A.G.I.C. agents. “He’s still got fight in him,” said a raspy voice. “Good,” Varnox replied. “Let the city believe he’s behind the new Enchanta. When they fear him again... we’ll move in unnoticed.” One figure leaned forward. “But what if he interferes?” Varnox smiled darkly. “Then we erase him. Permanently.” --- Back in Grimglade... Rico left Pipplewick’s shop with a burning need for answers and a head full of questions. He didn’t get far before someone crashed into him. “Watch it—” he started, then stopped. Standing before him was Juno, a street-smart illusionist with purple hair, a thousand tattoos, and an attitude sharp enough to cut glass. She looked like she hadn’t slept in days. “Rico!” she whispered. “I’ve been looking for you!” “Juno? I thought you were in the Sky Dungeons!” “Busted out. And guess what? Someone’s putting Enchanta in children’s cereal boxes. I found a kid trying to summon a dragon using a spoon.” Rico grabbed her by the shoulder. “It’s the Cartel. They’re back.” She clenched her fists. “Then we end this. Like old times.” Rico sighed. “I was hoping to stay retired.” Juno smirked. “Too late for that, Alchemist.” --- That night... Rico and Juno stood on the edge of Spellridge, overlooking a warehouse rumored to be the Cartel’s new base. Spells buzzed in the air, and strange howls echoed from within. Rico adjusted his gloves. “This could be a trap.” Juno cracked her knuckles. “Wouldn’t be fun if it wasn’t.” They leapt into the darkness. Seconds later, alarms blared, fireballs flew, and magical creatures exploded into clouds of glitter. Inside the chaos, Rico found a box labeled E-MX-RM-99. As he opened it, a familiar smell hit him — Enchanta. But twisted. Wrong. More powerful than ever before. Then the shadows around them moved. A figure stepped out. Tall. Hooded. Glowing red eyes. “Hello again, Rico,” the voice rasped. “Miss me?” Rico’s eyes widened. “Varnox.”
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