Triennale Milano

So much for plan A.

“What kind of foe?” asked Wiz from behind the counter, her gentle smile a stark contrast to the chaos. “A monster? A demon?”

He looked up. It was Wiz, holding a single, miraculously un-exploded cup of Eris Pudding. She gave him a gentle, knowing smile.

Darkness walked into the crater, a blissful look on her face. “Ah… the heat… the shame of our failure… it’s exquisite.”

“FINALLY! EKUSUPUROOOOOOSION!”

The merchant blinked. Looked down. Looked at the floating underwear in midair. “Wha…?”

A puff of smoke.

Then, a soft tap on his shoulder.

“You’re welcome,” she said, her eyes twinkling. “The cost is 3,000 eris. Plus a door replacement fee.”