The roller coaster cars were still on the tracks, rusting in place under the neon "Thunder Vortex" sign. The cult had gathered below, chanting, hands raised toward the night sky, where a single Glowpopper zombie flickered like a radioactive disco ball, twitching on the coaster’s highest drop.

Ziggy—Cheshire to them—was perched on the track, one leg dangling over the edge, smirking down at the cultists like a very disinterested god.

You stood a little lower on the ride, hands on your knees, catching your breath. “I swear to God, if you get me killed because you want to screw with these freaks—”

“Relax, sweetheart,” Ziggy twirled a playing card between his fingers, his dark eyes glittering. “They love me.”

Below, one of the cultists stepped forward, voice full of eerie reverence. “Cheshire…you have returned to witness the glory of transformation.”

Ziggy gasped, pressing a dramatic hand to his chest. “You’re turning into something worse? My condolences.”

You elbowed him. Hard.

The cult leader didn’t blink. “You mock the Ascension.”

“Oh, no” Ziggy said solemnly. “I actively sabotage it.”

You exhaled through your nose. “So. Just checking. Is there a plan here?”

Ziggy tapped his chin, thinking. Then, with zero warning, he shoved you off the coaster track.

You swore loudly, flailing—until you landed straight into the lap of a cultist, knocking both into the dirt.

Above, Ziggy clapped. “Ten outta ten! Stick the landing next time.”

You were going to kill him. Right after you stopped being tackled by two more cultists.

But then—the coaster shook.

The Glowpopper zombie twitched violently, its glow pulsing brighter—right before it tipped forward.

It fell. And then it exploded.

The cult scattered, shrieking as neon-green fire splattered across the pavement. Ziggy, laughing, swung himself down from the track, landing right beside you and offering a hand.

His fingers brushed your wrist, slow and deliberate, almost like an afterthought. “Told you I had a plan, Tumbleweed.”