Mavobella: The Angel Of Death

Chapter 31

I trudged through the morning fog toward Caketopia, dragging my feet as the weight of everything pressed down on me. It was like wading through mud, with each step feeling heavier than the last. My powers were gone, my wings? Also gone. Even the familiar sense of my surroundings felt…off, like I had been dropped into an old version of this place.

As I reached Caketopia, I half-expected to be greeted by Melissa with a smile and a fresh croissant. The sign still read “Caketopia: Cake your day” but the neon letters looked a little too bright, like it hadn’t yet seen the same wear and tear I remembered.

I pushed open the door, the little bell above ringing its usual cheerful tone, and stepped inside. Warmth and the smell of freshly baked bread washed over me—at least that hadn’t changed.

Melissa, with her usual messy ponytail, was bent over, wiping tables with a rag, her apron tied too loosely around her waist. Relief flooded through me.

"Melissa!" I called, approaching her with a weak smile. "Boy, do I have a story for you..."

She looked up, squinting at me like I was some kind of stranger off the street.

"Can I help you?" she asked, tilting her head to the side.

I blinked. "Uh… yeah, Melissa, it’s me. Mavobella. You know, the Caketopia crew?"

She gave me another squinty look, wrinkling her nose. "Sorry, I don’t think we’ve met. I mean, I know Nicole hires weird people sometimes, but I don’t remember a Mav-whatever."

I gaped at her. "Are you serious? I swear if you are messing with me, I will break your jaw,” I warned. She seemed rather too threatened than recalling my presence. “Melissa, we worked together for days. You spilled tea on my jeans, once!"

She pursed her lips, thinking hard for a moment before shrugging. "Nope, doesn’t ring a bell. You sure you got the right place? I mean, there’s no other bakery called Caketopia around here, but maybe you’re thinking of another universe?"

I stared at her, completely dumbfounded. "You’ve got to be kidding me."

Clearly, she thought that I was nuts. I couldn't blame her, I would think the same of a weirdo with tattered clothes and broken nails. Don't get me started on the hair.

After that, she just gave a half-hearted shrug and went back to wiping the table. "Feel free to grab a seat. Nicole’ll be here soon. Maybe she knows you."

I slumped into a chair by the window—the chair where I first caught a ghost of Marion—still trying to wrap my head around the situation. Melissa didn’t remember me?! How could she forget? Did she hit her head on a mixer or something? I groaned, resting my head on the table, which was still damp from her cleaning spree.

After what felt like an eternity, the door swung open, and Nicole stepped into the room, radiating a steady confidence. Her brown eyes, warm yet intense, held a depth that seemed to catch and reflect the daylight streaming in from the window. Waves of dark hair framed her face, falling naturally over her shoulders and catching little flecks of sunlight. She wore a fitted olive-green jacket, simple but practical, with silver zippers and buckles that added a touch of edge. Her jeans were worn but sturdy, and her black boots gave a soft, purposeful clink as she crossed the room. Nicole’s gaze met mine, and I was swift to blurt, "Nicole! Thank goodness, you're here—"

She cut me off with a sharp glance, her face hardening. "Who the hell are you?"

I blinked. "Wait, what?"

She crossed her arms, glaring at me like I was some random intruder. "Am I supposed to be knowing you or something? Coz unfortunately I don't.”

I stood up, waving my hands frantically. "Whoa, whoa, hold on a second! Nicole, it’s me—Mavobella! I worked here with you, remember? We fought sea monsters together! You have that gun that shoots neon green venom!"

Nicole just looked at me like I had two heads. "What gun? You mean my… spatula?"

"No! The gun," I emphasized, my hands mimicking a shooting motion. "You call it a redemption. It fires venom. Neon green liquid. Resonant Catalyst Hypothesis—does that ring a bell?"

Nicole’s eyes glinted with familiarity. She lowered her arms and her voice but didn’t look any less suspicious. Her unsaid words had never been easy to read. "What did you just say?"

"Resonance," I repeated, feeling a flicker of hope. "That’s how your gun works. The neon green venom—it uses resonance to multiply the liquid or something. You invented it."

Nicole’s expression shifted slightly, like she was considering what I said, though she still looked at me like I was one step away from being tossed out with the trash.

"Gun? Resonance?" she muttered to herself, pacing in front of me. "I don’t have the venom. Yet."

"Not yet?" I blurted, standing up from the table. "You got some when you saved me…” I stopped myself after recalling that after the loop, I didn't end up almost getting swallowed by a sea monster. “I think I was looped back in time, or something crazy like that. Everything’s different. Melissa doesn’t even remember me, and apparently, you haven’t invented the venom gun yet."

Nicole stopped pacing, turning to me with a squint. "Back in time? Is this some weird prank? Because if it is, it’s not funny."

I threw my hands up. "I wish it was a prank! I’m just as confused as you are. But listen—resonance is key. You’ll figure out how to multiply the venom, and then you’ll make the gun that saves us all from those undersea monsters!"

Nicole stared at me for a long, awkward moment, her lips twitching as if she was trying to decide whether to laugh or throw me out the door. Finally, she sighed and rubbed her temples. "I don't know what’s worse—your story or the fact that part of it almost makes sense."

I grinned, feeling like I had gained a little ground. "See? It’s not that crazy!"

She raised an eyebrow. "I wouldn’t go that far, but you’ve got my attention. This 'resonance'—I could maybe work with that. Still, I don’t remember you, and I don’t trust random people who waltz into my bakery with weird sci-fi time-travel stories."

Melissa, who had been wiping the same table for far too long now, chimed in, "Yeah, but it’s kinda interesting, though. What if she’s, like, from the future or something? Ooh! Maybe she knows the winning lottery numbers."

Nicole shot her a look, and Melissa shrugged. "Just sayin’."

I rolled my eyes. "No, Melissa, I don’t know the lottery numbers. But Nicole, I swear I’m telling the truth. Something happened with the gems and the teleportation, and now I’m stuck here. I just need your help."

Nicole was silent for a moment, then sighed deeply. "Alright. Take me slow here. You get a pass for now because that ‘resonance’ thing is… intriguing. But if this is a prank, I will kick you out."

"Deal," I said, relieved.

Melissa wiped her hands on her apron and leaned on the table next to me. "So, while you're here, wanna help with the dishes? You did say you used to work here, right?"

I shot her a deadpan look. "Maybe later."