One morning in Beach City, Champagne snored loudly on the cabin floor while Luster and Echo sprawled across his bed, completely at ease.
A soft tapping at the window stirred him. "Psst, Champagne!" a voice whispered.
His eyes snapped open, and he groggily crawled over to the window. "Lyra?" He pushed it open, blinking at her.
"You gotta come see this!" she whispered urgently.
Champagne stretched and nodded. "Give me a sec." He quickly freshened up, changed clothes, and leaped out the window, landing smoothly on his feet.
With a playful bow, he smirked. "Good morning, m'lady."
Lyra grinned and returned the gesture. "Good morning, my man."
The two made their way toward the center of Beach City, where a small crowd had gathered around Mayor Nanefua. The mayor raised her hands in an attempt to settle the murmuring townspeople.
"Calm down, everyone," she assured them. "We'll get it sorted out."
"What's going on?" Champagne asked as Lyra pulled him down to her height, her voice hushed with urgency.
"Everyone's freaked out. They say the arcade is haunted." She pointed toward the building, which pulsed with an eerie, ghostly glow.
Champagne shivered. "Yeah… that definitely looks haunted."
Before he could say more, Bill Dewey rushed up to him, waving his arms frantically. "You! You know the Crystal Gems, right? Can't you ask them to handle this?" he pleaded as the nervous crowd murmured around them.
Champagne sighed and stepped onto the stage, addressing the crowd. "Look, I'm not really with them, and besides, we've got way bigger problems to deal with than some imaginary ghost. Ghosts aren't real."
A wave of boos erupted from the crowd. Champagne rolled his eyes. "Alright, fine! To prove it, Lyra and I will stay in the arcade for the rest of the day!" He yanked Lyra up onto the stage beside him. Her smile was strained as she leaned toward him. "Champagne… What did I tell you about volunteering for me?" She said through gritted teeth
"And if there is a ghost, you both have to take it down!" someone yelled and Champagne cracked his knuckles. "Deal!" He yelled and Lyra gulped.
Late at night, the arcade was bathed in dim, flickering lights as Champagne and Lyra stepped inside. "Wow, the arcade looks so cool in the dark!" Champagne marveled, eyes wide with excitement.
Lyra, clinging to the back of his shirt, let out a dramatic sigh. "This is exactly why my mom tells me to stay inside—so I don't end up doing reckless things with you." She whispered the last part harshly. Champagne raised a brow. "Why are you whispering?" he asked, also in a whisper.
"Because that's what people do when it's dark!" she hissed back. Rolling his eyes, Champagne wandered toward the kitchen. "Let's see if there's any food." Lyra groaned and followed. "Stop trying to explore! All we have to do is stay put until morning."
Champagne had already found an abandoned pizza box and was mid-bite into a slice. "Can't do this on an empty stomach, right?" he said, his words muffled by the mouthful of cheese and sauce.
Lyra's stomach let out a loud, traitorous growl. "Fine," she grumbled before snatching a slice and reluctantly taking a bite.
A while later, they stood by the rundown skee-ball machine, the faint glow of the arcade lights casting long shadows. "It's been an hour, and still no sign of ghostly activity—unless you count Lyra's constant whining," Champagne said, casually tossing a ball into one of the holes.
Lyra shivered, shifting nervously. "Champagne…" she muttered. He turned to her. "Yeah?" She fidgeted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I have to…" He raised an eyebrow. "What? Want a turn?" he asked, holding out a ball. Lyra squeezed her eyes shut. "I have to use the bathroom." Champagne blinked. "Oh." He slowly pointed toward a dark, ominous hallway at the far end of the arcade. "Yeah… it's over there."
Lyra turned around, her eyes wide with hesitation. "Come with me?" she asked, gripping Champagne's sleeve. Champagne sighed but nodded. "Yeah, yeah, I'm right behind you." The two walked down the dimly lit hallway, the flickering neon signs from the arcade barely reaching this far. Shadows stretched unnaturally along the walls, but neither of them paid much attention.
As they reached the bathroom, Lyra hurried inside, closing the door behind her. "Stay by the door," she called out. Champagne leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. "I think we can leave. Nothing has happened so f—" His voice cut off.
Silence. Lyra frowned. "Champagne?" She finished washing her hands and reached for the door handle. Nothing. "Champagne, this isn't funny! Don't try to scare me." Still no answer.
Her heartbeat quickened. The hallway outside was darker than before—unnaturally so. The neon lights from the arcade no longer reached the corridor. It was as if something had swallowed the light entirely.
"Forget it!" she huffed and made a dash for the exit. But just as her fingers grazed the door handle, a cold hand shot out from the shadows, gripping her hair and yanking her back. A second hand clamped over her mouth, muffling her scream.
"Champagne!" she cried out, but her voice only echoed eerily through the arcade, swallowed by the darkness.
Meanwhile, outside, Champagne zipped up his pants as he stepped out from behind the building. He hadn't been able to use the arcade's single bathroom, so he had to settle for a bush outside.
Stretching his arms, he walked back toward the entrance. "Lyra? You still in there?" he called out, pushing open the door to the arcade. The moment he stepped inside, a strange chill ran down his spine.
The arcade was no longer the same. The neon glow had dimmed, the games flickered erratically, and the air itself felt heavier. And most importantly—Lyra was nowhere to be seen.
Champagne scoured the arcade, his eyes darting across every shadowed corner. "Maybe she just went home?" he muttered.
Just then, he caught sight of Lyra's shadow at the bottom of the stairwell. "Oh, there you are!" he called, relieved. The shadow raised a hand, motioning for him to come closer. Without hesitation, Champagne descended the stairs—only for his own shadow to lurch forward and slam him into the wall with bone-rattling force.
He groaned, shaking off the impact, and looked up. A figure emerged from the darkness—a gem unlike any he'd seen before. Her cracked gray skin resembled a spider's web, her long black tendrils slithering like living threads. Large, eerie red eyes glowed as she tilted her head, the gem embedded in the back of her neck pulsing ominously.
"Who are you?" Champagne demanded, forcing himself to his feet.
The figure cracked her neck with an unsettling snap. "I'm an assassin," she purred. "They call me the Shadow Weaver. Hematite sent me to bring you back, my diamond." Her voice dripped with venomous amusement.
Champagne's fists clenched. "Where's Lyra?" he demanded.
Shadow Weaver smirked and lazily pointed upward. Champagne's stomach dropped as he followed her gaze—his breath catching when he saw Lyra and several Beach City citizens suspended high above in a shimmering, silk-like web.
"Lyra!" he shouted.
"Champagne! Help!" she cried, struggling against the sticky threads, her wide eyes filled with terror.
Shadow Weaver chuckled, stepping closer, her tendrils slithering across the floor like creeping shadows. "I wouldn't struggle too much if I were you," she purred. "The more you fight, the tighter the web becomes. And well… I'd hate for you to suffocate before the real fun begins."
"I told you ghosts don't exist!" Champagne called out to the hostages in triumph.
"Just get us out of here!" Lyra shouted.
Champagne spun toward Shadow Weaver, who flicked a razor-thin web toward his throat. He bent backward in a smooth dodge, the thread slicing the air just inches from his neck. Before he could recover, Shadow Weaver lunged and slashed at his stomach—but his phase shift shield sparked to life, blocking the strike. In one fluid motion, Champagne reached up and pulled his champagne-colored sword from his eye, swinging it at her. She dodged and countered with a swift kick to his face, sending him staggering back.
Before she could press the attack, Champagne pulled the alien blaster from his eye and fired. Shadow Weaver's eyes widened—she dove behind cover, but not before a blast grazed her side. Hissing in pain, she ducked behind a wall.
Champagne looked up. Without hesitation, he aimed at the web suspending the hostages and fired. Screams echoed through the arcade as the shimmering threads snapped, sending everyone plummeting. Thinking fast, Champagne grabbed a web strand, pulled it tight across two corners, and created a bounce net. The hostages hit it and rebounded safely to the ground.
"Everybody go! Quick!" he yelled, and they scrambled out in a panic.
Lyra stopped at the exit. "Champagne, come on!"
He shook his head, shoved a rock into the blaster's core, and fired wildly, overcharging the weapon. It began to spark and swell. Champagne hurled it toward Shadow Weaver's hiding spot.
"Wait, stop!" she begged.
Too late.
The blaster exploded on impact, engulfing her in a burst of energy and reducing her to her black gemstone.
Moments later, Champagne emerged from the smoke-filled arcade, coughing and covering his mouth. Ash and debris swirled around him. He spotted the dark gem lying in the wreckage, still faintly glowing. He picked it up, staring at it with a frown.
"An assassin sent from Hematite?" he muttered. "Why is she so determined to come after me?"
He slid the gem into his eye socket and blinked. The gem clicked into place with a soft pulse of light.
Back on Champagne World, Hematite snarled and crushed her communicator in her hand. "Is capturing him really this difficult?! Fine. We'll fall back—for now. He's learning in real time, I can't afford to lose any more gems."