Kiku’s voice cut through the tense atmosphere of the war table, causing several demons to look up from the maps and strategic plans. “I brought muffins!” she declared, practically bouncing in place as she presented a plate full of colorful, and decidedly odd looking confections.

They stared at the muffins, their stomach sinking in quiet horror. Kiku, a walking disaster in the kitchen, had once again decided to “experiment,” and everyone in the room knew what that meant. Muffins were rarely ever safe when she was involved. Her attempts at cooking had become the stuff of legends—usually involving a lot of smoke, burnt things, and the occasional minor explosion. They couldn’t decide if the muffins were supposed to look like that, or if they were victims of some form of demonic magic gone terribly wrong. Either way, they didn’t want to find out.

The other demons exchanged confused glances, clearly mystified by the Demon King’s apparent fondness for Kiku. Her reputation for being a bumbling, clueless goofball seemed to defy any logical explanation for why someone in their position kept her around. Yet, there she was—still smiling, still offering muffins.

Without a hint of self-awareness, Kiku leaned in a little closer, her bubbly smile as wide as ever, and gently pushed a muffin toward them. “Try one!” she insisted, her eyes sparkling with eager anticipation.

They stared at the muffin, silently pleading to whatever gods might be listening for a miracle to make this situation go away. But there was no escape from Kiku’s unwavering optimism. They could already feel their fate sealed—one way or another.