"I think you've been accepted into the inner circle," Delilah whispered, nodding toward the three familiars who had arranged themselves in a protective triangle around Sam's bed.
"Great. I've always wanted cat approval."
The door swung open as Mac entered, carrying a steaming bowl. His green hair had been cropped military-short in what appeared to be an attempt to minimize the neon effect.
"Special delivery," he announced, setting the bowl on the side table. "Just something I threw together. Nothing special."
Sam caught the careful way Mac arranged the spoon, the folded napkin, the precise placement of the bowl. The soup smelled of rich bone broth, healing herbs, and something uniquely comforting.
"You made this?" Sam asked, surprised.
Mac shrugged, suddenly interested in a hanging plant. "Found the recipe. Thought it might help with the magical burns."
"He spent three hours making it," Zelda called from across the room, not looking up from where she was bandaging Vic's face. "Cursed at my stove for getting too hot, then not hot enough. It was adorable."
Mac's ears reddened. "It's just soup."
Sam reached for the bowl, touched by his friend's concern. "Thanks, Mac."
Fat Bastard suddenly tensed, his attention fixed on the darkest corner of the room. The other cats followed his gaze, fur bristling. For a moment, Sam thought he saw something—a deeper shadow within the shadows, watching.
"What is it?" Delilah asked, following their gaze.
The shadow vanished. Fat Bastard relaxed marginally but kept glancing back at the corner.
"Probably nothing," Sam said, but didn't believe it. "Cats see things we don't."
Zelda approached, wiping her hands on her apron. "The familiars have been on edge since you all returned. They sense something."
"The Collector?" Delilah asked quietly.
"Maybe." Zelda frowned. "Whatever it is, it's patient. Watching. Waiting."
Sam sipped the soup, which tasted even better than it smelled. "We disrupted one plan. There will be others."
"You's right," Fat Bastard said unexpectedly, making everyone stare. "The shadow man wears many faces. We's been watching him watching you's."
Jango Fett hopped onto the bed, positioning himself at Sam's feet. Boba Fett took up position near his shoulder.
"They're protecting you," Zelda said, surprise evident in her voice. "All three of them. I've never seen them do this for anyone except me."
Fat Bastard's eyes never left the shadows. "We's knows what's coming. The wolf is important."
Sam exchanged looks with Delilah. "Important for what?"
The cat just blinked slowly, settling his considerable bulk at the head of Sam's bed. "You's will see. We's will be ready."
The afternoon sun cast long rectangles of light across Zelda's living room floor. Sam shifted uncomfortably in his chair, magical burns still protesting every movement despite Zelda's healing treatments. The blue cookie he'd reluctantly accepted sat untouched on his napkin.
"I'm not eating anything that changes body parts," he muttered to Delilah, who sat beside him with her own cookie. Her neon green hair caught the light, practically glowing.
"After being a puppy for two days, you're worried about a blue tongue?" She grinned and took a deliberate bite. Her tongue immediately turned a vibrant shade of cobalt that matched the blue streaks now running through her green hair.
"It's a matter of principle," Sam replied, though his resolve weakened when the cookie's scent hit his enhanced senses—butter, sugar, and something distinctly magical that made his nose tingle pleasantly.
Across the room, the captured Silver Witch sat bound in a chair reinforced with protection spells. Her previously immaculate silver hair hung in disarray, and her once-elegant clothes were singed from magical backlash. She hadn't spoken since her capture, her eyes vacant as if her mind were elsewhere.
The room tensed as purple smoke billowed suddenly from the fireplace, accompanied by a dramatic saxophone riff from nowhere. Baba Yaga stepped through, wearing what appeared to be a 1980s power suit complete with enormous shoulder pads and a brooch that periodically shouted motivational phrases.
