We landed in what looked like a city, but smelled like a Starbucks exploded inside a yoga studio.
Signs of civilization?Yes.
Sanity?Nope.
Toasty's scanner went haywire.
WARNING: CAFFEINE LEVELS EXCEEDING PLANETARY LIMITS.DETECTED: CULT ACTIVITY.FACTION: ORDER OF THE SACRED BREW.RANK: STIRRED, NOT SHAKEN.
We hadn't even dusted the Bruce glitter off when we were surrounded by hooded figures in brown robes, chanting over steaming cups.
"CAFFEINE IS TRUTH."
"ESPRESSO IS DIVINE."
"ONE SHOT TO RULE THEM ALL."
I leaned toward Vex. "Is this a fan convention or a coffee death cult?"
"Same thing," she muttered.
Their leader stepped forward.
A tall, elegant woman in a flowing robe stitched with golden coffee beans. She held a staff tipped with a swirling vortex of steamed milk and doom.
Her name?
Baristaria, the Frother of Fate.
"I am she who brews beneath the crescent moon," she announced. "Welcome to Caffeinara."
I raised a finger. "Quick question: why is your staff making latte art… and why does it look like it wants to eat my soul?"
Baristaria narrowed her eyes.
"You desecrated the sacred froth. You walk the path of Decaf. You will pay."
Suddenly, she spun her staff. The milk vortex flared—and a caffeinated beast exploded out.
A Coffee Golem.
Twelve feet tall. Steaming with rage. Foam mustache.
Toasty beeped:
WARNING: LATTE-LEVEL THREAT DETECTED. RECOMMENDED RESPONSE: SCREAMING.
The beast roared and charged.
"Okay," I said, cracking my knuckles. "Time to stir things up."
The battle was chaos.
Every punch the Golem threw sent out waves of nutty aroma. I dodged, slipped on a puddle of espresso, and accidentally elbowed a cultist.
Vex launched a lightning barrage, shouting, "I HATE COFFEE!"
The Golem blocked with a whipped cream shield.
I summoned my Core—Stage 4: Entropy Blitz—and landed a punch that turned its chest into cold brew.
Toasty transformed into a panini press cannon and launched grilled sandwiches at the cultists like heat-seeking missiles.
Then Baristaria screamed, "LATTE OVERDRIVE!" and unleashed her ultimate attack:
A triple-shot espresso beam.
It hit me square in the chest.
My vision went white.
My heart rate hit jazz drummer speed.
And then…
Something awakened.
Something ancient.
Something wired.
Stage 5: Caffeinated Cataclysm.
My body glowed brown. Steam poured from my pores. My eyes became espresso shots.
I moved faster than thought. I saw time in drip brew.
I punched the Golem once—
—and it exploded into a thousand biscotti.
Baristaria gasped. "You… you've unlocked the Sacred Brewform…"
I wiped the foam from my mouth.
"Nah," I said.
"I'm just a guy who hates Mondays."
Then I passed out.