As Pizzaconda slithered at high speeds across the marble floors of the Mall. He was happily humming a song about having pizza in his pockets. All four of the Wondekeepers are becoming increasingly uncomfortable with every sharp corner or slide back to their home store.

  “Will you stop singing that! You don’t even have pockets! You’re a wooden snake for the Manga Author’s sake!” Tomowa shouted as she was literally being dragged by Pizzaconda’s figurative and literal tail end, the 1,000,000-ticket tag repeatedly lightly slapping her in the face in the wind.

  “No can do, Missy Waifu! I am overrrrrrrrrr the moon rrrrrrrrrrright now! Because once you don’t give the Don his tickets, you fourrrrrrrrrr will either be rrrrrrrrrripped aparrrrrrrrrrt by the Don’s hands, crrrrrrrrrrushed in the garrrrrrrrrrbage disposal, or worrrrrrrrrrst of all, a dip in the childrrrrrrrrrrens ball bit!” Pizzaconda giddily stated as he finally came to a stop in front of the toy store.

  “I’ll be back to eitherrrrrrrrrr pick up the tickets, orrrrrrrrrr take you to be punished by the Don! Eitherrrrrrrrrr way you’rrrrrrrrrre as good as tossed pizza! Chiao!” Pizzaconda slithered away back to the pizzeria.

  As the four toys took a moment to settle after their repeated high-speed whiplash, Mr. Honeybun was kneading his own fluffy body to redistribute some of his inner stuffing, which Pizzaconda’s constriction had mashed out of shape.

  “It would’ve been nice to know you owed currency to a dangerous individual,” Tomowa stated with ire as she readjusted her articulatory joints and made sure her permanently styled hair wasn’t bent out of shape or broken.

  Hank raised his hand to call attention and reminded everyone. “We can worry about that later; for now, we need to get to the Founder.” Hank pointed to the digital clock near the restroom hallway. “We already lost an hour of the night, so let’s get to Ol’ Betsy and move!” Hank concluded, then ran back into the toy store.

  Dorothy, Mr. Honeybun, and Tomowa were a tad surprised by Hank’s sudden moment of taking charge, especially since he had played the backseat for most of the nights so far.

  “....Mr. Hank is right. We can help Ms. Dorothy later. Grandpa Founder is still waiting for us!” Mr. Honeybun concurred as he waddled in behind Hank.

  “This conversation isn’t over…” Tomowa warns Dorothy, who is next to enter the Toystore.

  Dorothy stood there, realizing she had lost a level of trust within her team. She knew she had messed up by keeping her debt secret, especially to an animatronic Mob Boss. She knew this wasn't going to go away; she had to make this right, somehow.

  Then, as she became the last to enter the toy store, the Wonderkeepers rolled out on Ol’ Betsy at high speeds to reach the Founder.

  As they looked around the mall once more, Tomowa took her first honest look at the spread of advertisements for the X-Station Unlimited.

  Posters were plastered on every wall, covering even the display windows of other stores, the Mall’s soothing, royalty-free ambiance, and even periodically interrupted by loud, obnoxious announcements.

  ‘X-STATION UNLIMITED! THE ULTIMATE HYBRID CONSOLE! NOW AVAILABLE IN SIXTY-FOUR, ONE HUNDRED TWENTY-SIX, AND FIVE HUNDRED GIGABYTE HARD DRIVES! NOW ALSO LAUNCHING IN FOUR DIFFERENT COLORS! COSMO BLACK, SCARLET RED, NEON GREEN, AND OCEAN BLUE! AVAILABLE FOR PRE-ORDER!’

  Dorothy steered past something new, a suggestion box packed to the brim with slips of paper and a dangling pen hanging off the edge. A sign attached to the box read ‘ENTER TO WIN X-STATION UNLIMITED: SOUL JACKER BUNDLE!’

  Just as they turned the corner, they saw the X-Station Unlimited display. The digital countdown shrank again.

  4 Days

  22 Hours

  37 Minutes

  7 Seconds

  As the Wonderkeepers watched the countdown, a wave of dread slowly spread through them. But Hank pressed harder on the gas pedal of Ol’ Betsy to escape this spiral of impending despair.

  As soon as they turned the corner again, they saw the Founder talking with other toys in the distance. As they got closer to the fountain, it became clear he was speaking with Foundation Frank, Doughboy Jack, and DJ Vortexx. Accompanying Doughboy Jack were two of his young privates, along with DJ Vortexx and his brood of anime figurines, who were carrying his Redtendo MS Console.

  As soon as the Wonderkeepers pulled up near the fountain’s edge, the Founder gave a genuine smile at their arrival. He even reached down, picked up the four of them, and placed them on his shoulders. Tomowa, for a brief second, went to her side to draw one of her blades, but Hank quickly raised his hand to stop her. Hank and Tomowa were placed on the Founder’s left shoulder, while Dorothy and Mr. Honeybun settled on his right shoulder.

  “So nice to see you all again! Foundation Frank just told me you have acquired the third Spark of Wonder, and that the Civil War in Critical Quest has concluded. You all are beginning to make quite a name for yourselves in this Mall,” the Founder joyfully acknowledged.

  “But sadly, with popularity also comes attention. The Arcadians are doubling their patrols everywhere they have a hold on… according to our… new guest here.” Doughboy Jack said, turning to sneer at DJ Vortexx, revolted by the fact that an Arcadian was in their presence.

  “That’s right… our ALLY here. Had just finished telling everyone here that the Console Overlords aren’t happy and are planning to take over the upper floor of the mall just to secure any Sparks of Wonder.” Foundation Frank emphasized, shooting a look at Doughboy for speaking of his friend in such a way. “But King Augustus and Commander Aurora decided to merge their armies and set up perimeters along the upper floors. For now, we can build a stronger defense as soon as we get more stores on our side.” Frank concluded, crossing his muscular arms.

  “Check it, the bosses think I took over Critical Quest, but I lost the Spark of Wonder,” DJ Vortexx added, casually floating in the air. His turntables floated idly alongside him.

  “Wait, what happened to Mr. Given? We left in kind of a hurry last night,” Mr. Honeybun queried, settling on the Founder’s shoulder to get comfy.

  “Not to worry, lil’ bear, let's just put it simply and say… he ain’t going nowhere. But his traitors haven’t been found, so you all might wanna watch your backs.” DJVortexx answered as he began to adjust his turntable. “Especially you, Tomowa, Ren Raikuro swore revenge on you for humiliating him in front of his-...” The Videogame disk jockey rolled his nonexistent eyes at saying this next part. “...Waifus.”

  Tomowa took a breath and gripped one of her blades. Upon hearing this, she knew his Wonder power was far stronger than he let on. Next time they met, he wouldn’t hold back. But Tomowa’s thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a random question that blindsided her.

  “...Miss Tomowa? What’s a Wai-foo?” Mr. Honeybun asked, leaning forward from the Founder’s shoulder to see her.

  Tomowa opened her mouth to explain, but Hank quickly tapped her shoulder and signaled her to keep the answer simple.

  “A waifu is… another word for a beautiful girl…” Tomowa looked to Hank to see if that explanation was simple enough. He gave a thumbs-up in approval.

  Mr. Honeybun pondered this new definition for a moment, but a sudden realization crossed his cotton-filled head.

  “That means… Miss Dorothy is a waifu! Do you think Miss Dorothy is a Waifu, Mr. Hank!?” the teddy bear excitedly asked the toy handyman.

  Both Hank and Dorothy froze at the sudden metaphorical bomb the teddy bear had dropped on the surrounding wondergoers.

  Hank had to choose his words carefully, as everyone, even the Founder, awaited his answer. Why? Why had Mr. Honeybun put him in this precarious position, facing a pointless problem?

  He cleared his metaphorical throat and said, with his best attempt at confidence.

  “Why yes, of course she is!” Hank said, his voice cracking nervously.

  Everyone in the immediate vicinity reacted differently to Hank's answer to the loaded question.

  Mr. Honeybun put his paws to his face and let out an “Oooooooooooooh!” that lasted nine whole seconds.

  Tomowa sheathed her blade once more after hearing Hank give the correct answer.

  As for Dorothy, she’s trying not to show that she's bothered by Hank’s forced compliment. She KNOWS she’s a pretty doll. She was made to be pretty! But why was it so impactful when he said it?

  “AHEM!” Doughboy Jack cleared his throat loudly to change the subject. “Forced compliments aside, can we address where the next Spark of Wonder will be, and can we even trust the 16-Bit menace in our presence?” The army action figure inquired, sneering at DJ Vortexx.

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  “AYO! I’ll have you know I’m from a 32-bit console and was voted one of the best hidden-gem games of 2006!” DJ Vortexx argued, floating closer to Doughboy Jack to confront him directly.

  “Oh, please, I’ve been a favorite toy for boys ages four to twelve since 1964, and I’m considered a collector's item by some neckbeards who walk into Commander Wonder’s store! What are you? Some obscure ‘Bargain Bin Buy?’” Doughboy Jack mocked.

  DJ Vortexx got in Doughboy Jack’s face and shouted in outrage, “CALL ME A BARGAIN BIN BUY ONE MORE TIME, YOU PIECE OF **** PLASTIC. I SWEAR TO MY DEVELOPERS, I WILL DROP THE BASS SO HARD YOU’LL SEE YOUR FUNERAL WILL BE RETURN TO SENDER!”

  Before this could escalate further, a giant, heavy stone hand chopped down between the action figure and the Arcadian DJ, separating them. The impact shook the immediate area for a split second.

  “None of that!” The Founder demanded with stern disappointment. “DJ Vortexx has agreed to become our mole on the inside, meaning he’s more than willing to risk his life for the sake of Wonder to all!”

  DJ Vortexx took a breath to calm down and said, “He’s right. I just want things to go back to the way they were before, during the Great Silence.”

  Doughboy Jack recalled that era as if it were yesterday—the period from 1995 to 2001, when Amalgam Arcade transitioned into Amalgam Electronics.

  ………………………….

  He and his platoon moved through the newly established and refurbished electronics store. No longer was this a place for kids to have fun and spend hours whittling away their allowances, quarter by quarter; it was now a place of business selling electronics, from basic appliances like box televisions and toasters to necessities for home living like refrigerators and washing machines. Even a new form of machinery he’d only heard of in passing from various customers at Mr. Wonder’s Toystore, so much so that Mr. Wonder himself was planning to get one for his finances later that year. A device simply known as a computer.

  “Stay Frosty, men. Those pixelated punks could be anywhere,” Doughboy Jack warned as he channeled his Wonder through his iconic gun accessory. He pressed forward, leading his men toward the entertainment zone of Amalgam Electronics.

  Even so, to Doughboy Jack and his Platoon, this place felt soulless, devoid of Wonder. How the Arcadian menace had managed to survive in a place like this was beyond their understanding. But with that thought, a new conclusion arose.

  A slight twinge of hope began to spread through the troop. With this refurbishment, a new age dawned, free of the Arcadian menace, where Toys could inspire kids once again!

  As the action figure and his troops tread through the entertainment district, they looked around to see what entertained people these days.

  Whole rows of TVs of various sizes, the biggest being a 50-inch, rear-projection TV.

  Three whole front and back shelves chock-full of Videotapes of various movies, and a small rack of new media known as DVDs.

  Even Posters for the upcoming PortéMon movie. Announcing that if you come to Amalgam Electronics with your movie ticket, you get a special promo card.

  Doughboy Jack rolled his eyes in annoyance. The plushes from that franchise took over an entire shelf in the toy store, and all they do is say their names over and over.

  The Action figure’s annoyance quickly subsided when he and his platoon saw they were coming to the center of Amalgam Electronics, a faint glow peering from around the corner. As soon as Doughboy Jack turned the corner, he pointed his gun, accessory ready to fire. But all he saw was something he had never seen before. Instead of Arcade cabinets, he now saw three new forms of electronics. Above the three displays was a big and new sign that marketed these three new electronics as ‘Home Consoles! ON SALE NOW!’

  Surrounding the three home console displays were stacks of in-box consoles, ready to be purchased and set up in any home.

  These three consoles were different than the arcade cabinet predecessors. They were simpler, and could swap out the games they played on a whim using these items called Disks and Cartridges. Each was connected to a box CRT TV, displaying demo videos of the games available on their systems.

  The Redtendo 64, now capable of rendering 64-bit games. On the TV, a demo video of the newest Ultra Macro Game was playing. Ultra Macro was running around the Queen’s castle, collecting gold medals. Available for 199.99 USD and sold in bundles.

  The MEGA Jupiter, a direct competitor to Redtendo, was showing off the newest 32-bit graphics with the most current Rapid the Porcupine game, zooming around the courses at high speeds and taking down evil robots. Available for 399.99 USD, with Rapid the Porcupine as a bonus.

  Then, finally, the very first ArcStation console. It showcased its 3D graphics, which were downright revolutionary for its time. On that TV, Dash Dingo spun and destroyed crates. Available for 199.99 USD, with your choice of Dash Dingo or Fyro the Flame Pup.

  As soon as Doughboy Jack and his platoon stepped forward, closer to the three display consoles. The Demo videos stopped playing.

  ‘You……what are we?’ The Redtendo 64 asked in a pixelated, distorted voice.

  For the first time since Doughboy Jack’s unpackaging, he felt like he could sense no threat from these Arcadians. No, they were different from the arcade cabinets. He looks up at the sign above the display consoles once again.

  “Home Consoles…”

  ………………………………………………………………………………………………

  “I have been unpackaged since 1983. Like you, Wonderkeepers, I was thrust into this War with no end in sight. The Great Silence was the six years when things were shaky between all of us Wondergoers and the Arcadians. But for that half a decade, Greenbolt began to believe there was peace on the horizon for all of us. That was until all you Arcadians suddenly decided that those Console Overlords had chosen the three of them as your new leaders. Their first plan of attack was a mall-wide takeover that disconnected all the societies across the mall. Now I ask you again, Arcadian. What makes you different from all your pixelated and polygonal brothers and sisters?” Doughboy Jack challenged. He kept his hand on his gun accessory, ready to channel Wonder through it to fire if he received a wrong answer.

  DJ Vortexx, without hesitation, reached for his turntable and began a series of scratches and cuts. He signaled his brood of anime figurines to show Doughboy Jack the Redtendo MS screens. Displayed on the top screen was the save file screen from the video game the DJ came from?

  The first and only save file showed that the owner had 100% completion of the game.

  120 Gold medals on all stages.

  6/6 Endings Achieved.

  The profile was named: Ricky.

  “I once had a kid, too, you know. He accidentally left me behind during a Black Friday sale with his mom. I prayed to all the developers in my Staff Credits who would listen for him to come back, but he didn’t. At my lowest, the Arcadians at Amalgam Electronics took me in during the Great Silence. But what they’re doing now. They don’t wanna earn a kid's wonder as I did; they wanna take and control it all. Something changed in the Console Overlords, like a switch flipped in all of em. I just want things to go back to when we all got along.” DJ Vortexx finished, then signaled them to lower the handheld console once again.

  The Arcadian Disk Jockey’s words hung in the air like a partially deflated balloon. But Mr. Honeybun slid down the Founder’s arm to DJ Vortexx’s side. The teddybear raised his right arm to reveal his permanent marker on his hand, showing his ‘Abby’ mark on his paw.

  “I think we can trust him, Mr. Doughboy Jack. If he has a kid, that means he has someone who wants him back.” Mr. Honeybun’s oh-so-innocent disposition was just what was needed to get the army action figure required to lower his gun accessory and stop channeling his Wonder.

  “Founder Sir… please tell us where the next Spark of Wonder will be…” inquired Doughboy Jack, with a hint of receding anger and a hint of shame.

  The founder re-adjusted his blazer. Purely for instinct, because his blazer is melded to his stone body, but regardless.

  The founder cleared his throat and began.

  “I always love it when you all come to visit. Awkward compliments, exposés, and even near-conflicts! I just love it!” He steadied himself as he began.

  …………………………………………………………………………………………..

  This is the tale of the Spark of the Artist. To all her friends, she had a whole box full of colored tools, from crayons and colored pencils to markers and even paints. Even as a young girl, her art was so realistic you could almost jump into the picture, like a kids’ show mascot in a green striped sweater, or so abstract you could see a beautiful starry sky or even a deep-sea ocean. The Spark of the Artist is the last bit of the Artist’s tools. A simple tin full of paintbrushes, their tips stained with paint. It now rests in a place that is peaceful by day and a place of spilled metaphorical blood by night.

  ……………………………………………………………………………………………..

  As the Founder placed Hank, Dorothy, and Tomowa back into Ol’ Betsy, with Mr. Honeybun hopping in from behind. Dorothy contemplated for a moment and quickly realized which location the Founder was speaking of.

  “The daycare….” She uttered with a twinge of fear.

  “Oh! I've been there with Abby before! All the little kids love to play there while the parents shopped around!” Mr. Honeybun pointed out that his happy bouncing shelf shook Ol’ Betsy.

  “That’s during the Day Mr. Honeybun…at night it’s….well. You’ll see.” She vaguely stated as she turned on Ol’ Betsy and drove off. The toy handyman, the teddy bear, and the Anime figurine were left silent as Dorothy left them in silence.

  “Hoo boy. If they’re going to the Daycare, they ain’t gonna last two seconds. Especially if Anchor Wrought and Painter Paula are workin’ together.” Foundation Frank States as he begins to get back to Critical Quest. But he was suddenly stricken by a realization.

  “AWW PICKLES! I forgot to GIVE HANK HIS ADD-ON!” Frank chastised himself as he ran toward the DJ to get there in time.

  ………………………………………………………………………………………………

  As the Wonderkeepers sped down the Mall's hallways, nearing the southern exit, they reached a place near the Mall that was riddled with rental strollers. They parked Ol’ Betsy near the rental strollers and all climbed out. They could hear the faint, savage cheers of various wondergoers as they entered the daycare. The cheers only got louder as they passed the secretary's desk.

  The daycare itself felt like a world of its own. The walls were painted bright colors and adorned with crude drawings made by the children. The carpet was bright and colorful, though some parts were stained and sticky with something they didn't want to think about. The door to the actual daycare was cracked open just enough for wondergoers to pass through. But as soon as the four entered, they saw the daycare had been reorganized. Instead of a warm and inviting place for children, it was now organized as a sort of battle arena. Wondergoers from all over the Mall surrounded the arena, standing on chairs and tables to get a better view of the fight.

  In the center of the arena was a baby doll, savagely ripping the stuffing out of a stuffed lion plushie. After all the stuffing was ripped out, the baby doll violently ripped the head off the lion plushie and let out a baby cry, raising the ripped-off head in victory as the audience cheered.

  “AND BABYDOLL CLAIMS ANOTHER VICTIM! WHO WILL STEP IN AND CLAIM THE PRIZE TONIGHT!?” Shouted the announcer.

  The Four stood in shock….this wasn’t the direction they were expecting.