Raon should've known the peace wouldn't last.
Sure, the photoshoot finally stabilized.
Sure, Shion had stopped accidentally detonating machinery.
Sure, the drones weren't chasing the Pitchfork Trio anymore.
But the universe…
The universe never let Raon have nice things.
Not for long.
---
The Calm Before the Stupid
The director clapped, delighted.
"Excellent! Perfect! Beautiful chaos, but controlled chaos!"
That last part—controlled—was a lie.
Raon felt it in her bones.
Shion hovered close, hands clasped behind her back.
"I think we did really well, Raon."
"You did fine," Raon replied. "Except for the part where you kicked the glitter cannon into orbit."
"I slipped—"
"Yes, yes," Raon waved off. "Gravity betrayed you, the universe plotted against your shoe, etc."
Before Shion could defend herself further, the studio door creaked.
Slowly.
Suspiciously.
Raon braced herself.
Yuno whispered, "Oh no…"
Maestro Dome sighed dramatically. "It begins again."
---
Enter: The Pitchfork Trio, 200% Too Confident
They strutted in.
Wearing capes.
Matching capes.
Bright red. Glittery. Homemade.
Each cape had a single giant letter stitched on the back:
P
F
T
Together they formed "PFT," which wasn't intimidating, meaningful, or even coherent.
The trio posed like an off-brand superhero team.
"Behold!" they announced.
Raon blinked slowly. "…Why?"
"We," said the first member proudly, "have decided to become…"
He raised a finger.
The lights dimmed on their own. (Raon suspected sabotage.)
Dramatic music rose from nowhere. (Raon suspected Yuno's hidden speaker.)
The three shouted in unison:
"THE PITCHFORKED AVENGERS!"
Silence.
Absolute silence.
Even the drones hummed in confusion.
Finally Raon said, "That spells PFA. Your capes say PFT."
"PFT stands for PitchForked Trio," said the second.
"But you introduced yourselves as the Pitchforked Avengers," Shion pointed out politely.
The trio huddled, whispering urgently:
"…Did we mess up the branding?"
"…No, it's fine."
"…Let's commit, nobody will notice."
They turned back with renewed swagger.
Raon massaged her temples.
"We noticed."
---
The Pitchforked Challenge
The leader stepped forward dramatically.
"RAON!"
Raon pointed at herself. "No."
"RAONNN!" he repeated, dramatically ignoring her.
"No."
"For the honor of the PFT!"
Still no.
"We challenge you to—"
"Nope."
"—a DUEL!"
Raon stared.
Shion gasped.
Yuno muttered, "Why are they like this…"
Maestro Dome floated higher in case something exploded.
"A duel?" Raon repeated.
The leader nodded.
"Yes. A duel of EPIC proportions. A battle to determine who shall grace the cover! Our fanbase demands we take the spotlight!"
"You have a fanbase?" Raon asked.
The trio puffed up their chests.
"All three of our moms follow our account."
"Your moms followed because you begged them," Yuno reminded.
"They used emojis," the trio countered.
Raon sighed.
"Okay. What kind of duel? Strength? Speed? Dancing? The last one is banned."
"No! Not physical! We challenge you to…"
He held up—
A microphone.
Raon froze.
Shion blinked.
Yuno's soul left her body.
Maestro Dome groaned as though cursed.
The trio declared:
"A PHOTO-POSE SHOWDOWN!"
The drones beeped in excitement.
The director screamed with unholy glee.
Raon whispered, horror dawning:
"Oh no… It's a pose battle."
---
Round One: Hero Pose vs. Whatever That Was
"Contestants! Prepare!" the director shrieked.
Raon cracked her knuckles.
A hero pose? Easy. Bread and butter.
She leapt forward—
Hair billowing, fist forward, eyes blazing, foot crushing symbolic villainy.
Flawless.
The trio responded…
With the Fork Formation.
What was the Fork Formation?
Raon had no idea.
But it involved:
synchronized lunges
hands shaped into weird fork-spear gestures
all three yelling "FORK!"
one tripping
one recovering
one adjusting his cape mid-fall
It was awful.
The director wrote notes like he was witnessing art.
The drones clapped digitally.
Raon wanted to scream.
---
Round Two: Dynamic Movement vs. Unhinged Acrobatics
Shion cheered, "Go Raon!"
Raon launched into a sweeping spin-kick pose, perfect angle, perfect power.
The trio countered with…
Cartwheels.
Terrible cartwheels.
One landed sideways.
One collided with a foam prop.
One got wrapped in his own cape.
The director whispered, awe-struck:
"Genius."
---
Round Three: Signature Energy vs. Absolute Absurdity
Raon unleashed her signature:
One Kick Stance — Static Charge Mode.
Energy crackled, hair whipping like a storm.
The room felt it.
The pressure.
The presence.
The raw power.
The trio countered with:
They tried to stack on top of each other.
A human tower.
It lasted exactly 0.4 seconds.
Then collapsed like dropped spaghetti.
The director cried, "BRILLIANT!"
Raon dropped to her knees.
"This… this can't be reality…"
Shion patted her back sympathetically.
"It's okay. Reality bends around stupid people. It's science."
---
Final Judgement
After a very dramatic pause, the director shouted:
"WINNER… is…"
Raon stood tall.
The trio posed (painfully).
Shion held her breath.
"RAON!"
Raon exhaled.
The trio collectively wilted like overcooked noodles.
"But—" the director added, "—the Pitchforked Avengers will receive a SPECIAL FEATURE PAGE."
"What kind of feature?" Raon asked warily.
"A comedic extras page!"
Shion cheered.
The trio cheered harder.
Maestro Dome rolled his eyes.
Raon nodded.
"Fine. As long as they don't break anything."
Immediately a drone fell from the ceiling and exploded in confetti.
Raon groaned.
Shion smiled innocently.
"It wasn't me this time!"