Chapter Text
"Me and Grime will hold him! Just GO!"
"Quick, into the portal, everyone! Hurry!"
"THE BOX!"
"Marcy, HURRY!"
"I just need to—"
…
"Now look what you've made me do."
"I-I'm sorry... for everything."
"MARCY!!!"
“GAH!” Anne jolted awake with a yelp, her torso snapping upright as her hand flew to the chest plate of her armor. Her breaths came fast and uneven, panic still clawing at her lungs. With an alarmed look, Anne’s wide eyes darted across her surroundings.
‘What happened? Where am I now? Is this… home?’ she thought.
Trees and bushes greeted her, indicating she was in a forest, but not Amphibia’s wild marshes or anything she recognized from Earth. The leaves were too rounded, the trunks too tall and smooth, and the colors almost felt… off.
“Ugh… my head,” Anne groaned, pressing her palms against her head as a throbbing migraine made thinking difficult. She forced herself to retrace the chaos that led her here.
Frog, what a day.
‘Let’s see…’ Anne began as her memories resurfaced. She, the Plantars, Frobo, Sasha, and Marcy had returned to Newtopia with the Music Box. Having two childhood friends at her side, the human trio was ready to go home…
Until Sasha and Grime revealed their plan.
Sasha had yanked the Music Box away before Anne could hand it to King Andrias, falling right back into her toxic need for control. The toads’ rebellion erupted, and the metropolis became a battlefield, launching a full-scale uprising to take over Newtopia and dethroning Andrias.
Many heated words were exchanged, including Anne standing her ground against Sasha and briefly ending their friendship.
Of course, things weren’t that simple.
Through meticulous planning and immense effort, Anne led the charge to thwart the toad rebellion, eventually defeating both Sasha and Grime…
But victory didn’t mean safety.
King Andrias’s jovial façade shattered, revealing his true colors.
Far from a humble and friendly goofball of a king, he unveiled himself as a conqueror with a lineage of tyranny across dimensions.
The “Music Box” wasn’t a key home. It was a weapon, his means of accessing new worlds to conquer… And Anne had just handed him the keys to invade Earth.
Everything after that blurred together:
Andrias’s laser sword… Polly growing legs…? Sprig falling… Blue powers…
…Marcy.
Anne’s breath hitched. The image of Andrias’s blade piercing through her best friend made her heart drop.
‘No. No, no—’
“NO!” she snapped aloud, shaking her head violently. Tears welled, and she scrubbed them away as quickly as they formed. “Marcy will be fine. She’s alive. She has to be. I just… I just need to get back and save her. Right, guys?”
Rising to her feet, Anne turned toward where the Plantars should’ve been…
Only to find nothing.
Just her backpack… and the shattered remains of Polly’s robotic friend, Frobo, inside.
A chill crawled up her spine. “...Guys? Not funny…” she called, voice cracking at the edges. One minute passed. Then another. The silence stretched, empty and cruel. “Sprig? Seriously, dude. Come out, or I swear you’ll never hear the end of it!”
No answer.
“Polly?”
No response, only birdsong.
“...Hop Pop?”
Leaves rustled. Nothing more.
Eyes widening in disbelief, Anne froze as her heartbeat quickened again. ‘No way, they can’t be…’ she thought dreadfully. ‘They were right next to me! We all went through the portal together, when Marcy—!’
Anne cut the thought off, choking it down.
“Okay. Okay,” she muttered, forcing determination into her voice. “Maybe we just got separated a little ways off. That’s fine. I just need to find them before… before anyone else does. And figure out where the frog I even am.”
Frog, she had a lot to do. Anne inhaled sharply, squared her shoulders, and grabbed her backpack.
“Hang on, guys. I’m coming,” the Thai-American vowed, putting her gear on.
Once the teen was ready, she took her first step into the unknown.
For about ten minutes of walking, Anne trudged through the undergrowth until, thankfully, she stumbled upon a dirt road winding out of the forest. A path meant civilization… and hopefully meant the Plantars weren’t far.
But the farther she walked, following the dirt road’s direction, the less sense this world made.
Floating blocks hovered high above the road—some looking like ordinary brick-like cubes, others being golden yellow with white question marks that shimmered invitingly.
Massive green pipes jutted from the ground at impossible angles, like some plumber’s fever dream. A few were packed with soil, while others opened into deep, echoing tunnels that seemed to breathe.
Anne stared at them warily. She may have been impulsive, but hopping into a random hole was a Sasha move. No way was she risking herself getting even more lost.
The vegetation didn’t try to be normal either. They didn’t resemble any Earth or Amphibia plant Anne recognized. Bushes and trees sprouted bright fruits with unusual light color patterns, and enormous mushrooms in various sizes—towering red, orange, and blue umbrellas—dotted the fields like a fantasy landscape from a weird video game Marcy would obsess over for weeks.
And then there were the wildlife.
A parade of odd creatures scurried about as if this were all perfectly natural. Some of them were round, brown, mushroom-like beings with tiny feet, scowling faces, twin upward-pointing fangs, and thick bushy eyebrows. A few versions even had rows of small white wings, flapping awkwardly through the air like angry puffballs.
Others resembled bipedal turtles that are nearly as tall as Anne, their skin a smooth, bright yellow. They wore shoes that matched the vibrant reds or greens of their glossy shells. Winged variants of these turtle creatures flapped overhead, shells gleaming as they soared clumsily but confidently.
Furthermore, there were the caterpillar giants: bright yellow bodies, soft purple shoes, and orange spots adorning their segmented bodies, each with a tiny white flower perched atop their heads. Their big brown noses, friendly, almost cuddly smiles, and plump, cheerful cheeks made them look like living parade floats.
Trailing behind them were smaller bug-like critters—ladybug-esque creatures that appeared in bright reds, greens, blues, yellows, or pinks. Orange feet pattered along the dirt in perfect formation. Their black faces and dotted heads bobbed as they moved, emitting alternating high and low chirps like a synchronized melody—always marching, always looping their little paths.
Winged versions of many of these tiny insects zipped overhead like confetti with a mission.
…
If Anne had to be honest, these caterpillar and ladybug creatures’ faces were MUCH cuter than the ones she had encountered in Amphibia.
‘Just where the heck am I?!’ Anne mentally screamed, her brain barely taking in the absurdity. ‘Marcy would lose her mind over how adorable and bizarre this place is…’
A sudden rustling emerged from the forest beside the road, sharp enough to cut through her spiraling thoughts. Leaves trembled. Branches swayed. Something was definitely moving in there.
Anne’s heart leaped as a possibility came to mind. ‘Sprig? Polly? Hop Pop?’
She hurried toward the noise in a heartbeat, hope flooding her chest. Maybe the portal didn’t scatter them as far as she feared. Perhaps they were right there, waiting for her to find them.
Brushing through a patch of mushrooms and leafy shrubs, she cupped her hands around her mouth.
“Sprig! Polly! Hop Pop! Are you there?” the Thai-American called out loudly, whipping her head in different directions as she ran. “If you can hear me, come to the sound of my—!”
*Thud!*
Anne bumped into something solid and very much alive.
“Oof! Sorry about that, I—”
She froze.
Before her stood what could only be described as an adorable dinosaur. Smooth green skin, a big, round nose, wide blue eyes that are full of friendliness, and three small red spikes trailing down its nape. A white belly and chest nicely contrasted the dinosaur’s color, and on its back sat a rounded, red saddle-like shell, like an invitation to ride. Bright orange boots completed the look—practical, stylish, and very unconventional.
This dinosaur’s overall appearance made it look like someone took a fierce prehistoric reptile and turned the intimidation setting down to zero.
‘What the… Is that a frogging DINOSAUR?!’ Anne shrieked internally.
The creature chirped a cheerful greeting, tilting its head and leaning closer curiously.
It was clearly trying to communicate something with Anne, but her survival instincts immediately kicked in. Her fight-or-flight response chose flight.
“Nuh-uh—NOPE!”
Taking no chances, she spun on her heel. Anne skedaddled out of the forest and went back on the road, heart hammering, leaving the dino blinking in confusion.
“Fantastic,” she wheezed to herself between panicked breaths. “We’ve got turtle dudes, muffin monsters, weird giant bugs, apparently flying versions of all of those things, pipes no plumber should ever touch, floating blocks, mushrooms the size of trampolines, and now cute dinosaurs with boot fashion.”
Anne laughed nervously. “Wherever the Music Box dumped me, it’s definitely not Amphibia. Or Earth.”
She slowed eventually, hands on her knees, glancing around the endless rolling hills and sparkling blue sky. The road continued stretching onward, vanishing into a horizon filled with more mushrooms and mystery.
Anne wasn’t sure how long she’d been walking and spent searching around. Or where she was going.
Or whether she was getting any closer to finding the people she cared about.
Anne followed the winding road until she saw something that made her stop in awe.
Just a few miles ahead was a cheerful village spread across the hills like a storybook brought to life. Cozy houses topped with domed mushroom roofs, adorning pastel spots like sprinkled candy, came in every color imaginable—red, blue, green, purple, etc. Market stands lined the streets, selling bizarre produce and items that glittered strangely in the sunlight. A fountain shaped like a star sat in the center, water chiming pleasantly as residents bustled about.
And those residents?
Anne couldn’t get a better look at them from afar, but she could tell that they were real people. Living, breathing people.
The teen sighed in relief at the sight. ‘Oh, thank frog. There are people in this world,’ she thought, smiling. ‘That’s a good start.’
Without hesitation, she rushed toward the village. A few minutes later, Anne reached the entrance. She noticed the signpost out front as she briefly stopped to catch her breath.
It read: WELCOME TO TOAD TOWN!
Anne’s eyes widened in surprise. ‘No way… Toads live here, too?!’ she thought incredulously.
Anne hurried inside after recovering her stamina, hope flaring. If this place had civilization with Toads, like the ones from Amphibia, then someone had to have seen three lost frogs.
However, her optimism tanked quickly once she entered the capital city. What she found there completely subverted her expectations.
All of these residents in Toad Town were short humanoid mushroom citizens appearing in red, yellow, green, blue, and pink. They had the same overall appearance: round, spotted mushroom caps, soft peachy skin, dark beady eyes, chubby cheeks, a mouth that usually smiles, tiny arms, almost no visible legs, and stubby feet.
As for their clothing, they wore brown shoes, vests that matched the spot’s color on their caps (although most of the red-spotted ones wore blue instead) with gold linings, and large diaper-like pants.
…
Suffice to say, these “new” Toads were so far on the opposite side of the intimidation spectrum that it’d make Captain Grime cry at such an insult.
“Wait, you mean YOU guys are Toads?!” Anne asked, jaw hanging slack as she stared at one of the civilians.
The small mushroom person—donning a red-dotted cap and blue vest—looked up at her and blinked. “Uh… yeeeeah?” his voice squeaked, high-pitched yet somehow VERY raspy. “What, were you expecting something else?”
Anne just groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Never mind that.”
‘Wow. This world is the biggest flip-up from Amphibia I could’ve ever imagined.’
Putting that thought aside, she pulled out her phone and showed a photo of the Plantars.
“Okay, look. Have you seen ANY giant talking frogs around here?” Anne questioned urgently while speaking steadily. “Pink one with a green beanie and tongue too long for his own good—small purple ball-looking tadpole with a yellow bow and tiny legs—and the orange old fellow?”
The Toad squinted at the screen before shrugging with a squeaky little sigh. “Nope. Sorry, lady.”
Anne was bummed out by his reply, but thanked him anyway. She then moved on to show the picture and repeat the question to a second Toad… only to get a similar response.
The Thai-American had to cycle through this tedious process countlessly around Toad Town, which further discouraged her with hearing each identical answer.
At some point, after Anne couldn’t get anything out of another Toad, a random one approached her this time.
“Hi there!” the mushroom resident greeted, grabbing Anne’s attention, voice chirping with friendly energy. He cheerfully waved with his tiny hand and a polite smile that was fairly typical for the town. “You’re the first new human to visit here in a while!”
The Toad rocked slightly on his heels, eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Didya come from New Donk, by any chance?”
Anne perked up at this Toad’s words. ‘Other humans have previously been in Toad Town?’ she wondered excitedly in her mind.
That meant… Yes! Finally, confirmation that humans DO exist in this world!
A spark of reassurance flickered in Anne’s chest until confusion immediately took over.
“Uh, no. I’m from Los Ang—”
She froze mid-sentence, eyes narrowing. ‘Wait, did he say… New Donk?’ the teen inwardly asked. What kind of a city’s name was that?
“Hold on a sec,” Anne said aloud. She leaned forward, finger raised, and raised a brow. “Don’t you mean New York?”
The Toad cocked his head, looking at her like she was the weird one. “Eh? What’s New York?” he asked innocently.
Anne dragged a palm down her face with a long groan. “Forget what I said…”
‘…Right. Not on Earth. Stupid question, Anne,’ the teen silently told herself.
And when she asked that Toad citizen about the Plantars? Same result.
An hour passed by afterward…
Anne had been asking around nonstop for at least an iota of information in that timeframe, yet received no luck.
No leads, no hints, no Sprig, no Polly, no Hop Pop—nothing. Just more confused mushroom people and a growing ache behind Anne’s eyes.
Eventually, Anne came across a different Toad who gave her some advice.
He stroked his chin thoughtfully as he examined the picture of the Plantars. “Can’t say I’ve seen any frogs. I don’t travel past town, honestly,” the Toad admitted, making Anne’s shoulders slump. “But! If you need help, Mario is your best bet! You should talk to him. He goes on adventures, like… constantly!”
Anne’s head snapped up. “Wait, really? Where can I find him?”
The Toad shrugged, spreading his tiny arms. “No clue! I think he’s out adventuring right now. If you wanna meet the hero of the Mushroom Kingdom, all you can hope for is to… y’know… run into him!”
The hope that had sparked in Anne’s chest flickered sadly, though she steadied. It wasn’t much, but it was somewhat of a lead.
She forced a grateful smile and nodded. “Okay, thanks. Appreciate it… uh, Toad.”
“No problem! Good luck finding your frog buddies!” the Toad chirped, giving her a thumbs-up.
Waving him goodbye, Anne turned back toward the road with a determined breath. She didn’t feel the need to ask more Toads any longer, knowing that she’d waste further time trying and failing to get any additional leads.
If Mario was this world’s hero, according to that Toad… she was going to find him.
And she wasn’t giving up until her family was reunited.
Leaving Toad Town behind, Anne wandered back into the stretching wilds of the Mushroom World. A breeze rustled through the towering mushrooms around her, each one casting large shadows over the narrow trail. She breathed in deeply.
‘Alright, Plan B,’ the teen thought. Her eyes drifted to one of the many pipes poking out of the ground like oversized drinking straws. ‘Maybe the Plantars got dropped underground…?’
It wasn’t like she had better leads. Much as Anne hated the idea, dire times called for desperate decisions.
She walked until she spotted an open pipe sitting open at the edge of the road. Heart pounding, she climbed up and carefully lowered herself into the hole.
As Anne slid further inside the pipe’s tunnel, she mentally started counting. ‘One Mississippi—’
*SNAP!*
Something snapped its monstrous pair of jaws inches from Anne’s feet.
Recoiling in alarm at the sudden attack, she instinctively stopped going down and gawked at a huge, hissing plant resembling a venus fly trap attempting to bite at her legs right below her. It had a white-spotted red head, bisected by a white lipped mouth possessing sharp teeth.
Anne shrieked, climbing back up in a frenzied panic, and practically launched herself out of the pipe.
She hit the ground, lying prone on the grass, then scrambled to her feet and sprinted away onto the dirt road just as the red plant creature emerged from the opening.
Still seeking its prey, the carnivorous being reached over to Anne’s direction with its leafy green stalk and snapped its teeth at her again. Luckily for her, the plant could only extend a foot or two due to its stalk’s length.
“OH FROG, THEY HAVE PEOPLE-EATING PLANTS HERE TOO?!” Anne yelled, running so fast she left a dust trail. Somehow, she was even faster than her desperate escape from the friendly dinosaur earlier.
However, the universe decided comedy was on today’s schedule. Still dashing, her left foot caught on a rock sticking obnoxiously out of the road.
And because of her speeding momentum, she was hurled a couple of meters ahead.
“WH—NO NO NO—!” Anne shouted, suddenly feeling like Marcy. Her arms flailed midair as she fell before smacking the ground face-first and skidding across.
“...Ow,” she groaned in pain.
As Anne pushed herself up, she heard the sad clatter of her belongings spilling everywhere. Of course.
“Perfect. That’s just perfect,” Anne muttered sarcastically through gritted teeth.
Sighing, she sat on her heels, set her backpack down beside her, and began scooping up the mess—dirty clothes, broken Frobo bits, candy wrappers she swore she didn’t remember keeping…
Then she froze.
Lying among the scattered items was a mauve notebook she’d never seen in her bag before. On its front cover were neat, handwritten letters: “Marcy’s Journal.”
Anne’s breath caught. She picked up the book, her thumb brushing gently over the worn edges.
“H-How…?” she whispered. “Did she—put this in while the battle was happening? But why would she—?”
The questions burned like hot coals in her chest as a possible reason came to Anne’s mind. Her throat tightened.
‘No, I’m not going down that spiral again,’ she reminded internally, forcing a shaky inhale. Not here. Not when she needed to stay focused.
Anne gathered the rest of her belongings, stuffing everything back inside her bag, then carried it and the book to a nearby tree. She sat against the trunk in the shade, backpack beside her, and held the journal carefully in her lap as if it were something precious and fragile.
Anne knew she shouldn’t be snooping into Marcy’s personal diary like this. She wasn’t proud of it… but she needed anything to stop her thoughts from tearing her apart.
“I’ll just… read a little,” she murmured, opening to page one. The handwriting was unmistakably Marcy’s.
And for the first time since she had woken up in this strange world… Anne felt just a little closer to her best friend.
The teen held her breath as she stared at Entry 1, letting every line sink in.
ENTRY 1
“Testing, testing - is this thing on?
Okay, let me start by saying
OMIGOSH
OMIGOSH
OMIGOOOOOOSH!
It worked!
The music box actually WORKED!
This is unbelievable. I am smack dab in the middle of another flipping world!!! I know the book said… but I didn’t think it was actually GONNA… but it DID and I’m here and (zig-zag line) !!!!
Lemme start over.”
Anne’s stomach twisted. The excitement. The certainty. The fact that Marcy had known all along. Seeing it spelled out so innocently still felt like getting punched in the chest, even after hearing the truth.
“Yeah… you really did know,” she murmured, unable to keep the sting from her voice.
The Thai-American blinked away the heat growing behind her eyes. No breakdowns. Not now. She needed a distraction—that was the deal.
“Okay, another page…” Anne flipped through a few pages until Entry 7 caught her eye.
ENTRY 7
“WOW… time really flies out here. 😅
It’s been a few days since my last entry. King Andrias was so impressed with my work on the bridge (completed on time and ahead of schedule btw) he built a statue in my honor! I’m really moving up in the world. I gave a brief acceptance speech at the ribbon-cutting ceremony. Meant to say “Thanks so much” and “I’m honored.” Said “I’m so much.” Cringed. Froze up. Ran off the stage. Andrias razzed me so hard he was like “Stick to public works, not public speaking.” >_<
Anne snorted—a short, sharp laugh that surprised her. Public speaking was never Marcy’s strong suit.
“Heh, that is so you, Mar-Mar,” she said softly, her smile small but genuine. “Brilliant enough to build a bridge… but still trips over a ‘thank you’.”
The smile faded just as quickly as it had appeared.
Because the more she pictured Marcy, the more the ache inside her grew. The longing. The misery. The fear that she might never see that girl again.
She missed Marcy so much already…
Anne swallowed hard and brought the book a bit closer to her chest, pressing the hurt back down where it belonged.
“Nope. Not going there,” she muttered. “Not right now.”
She took a steadying breath, then continued flipping forward—past cheerful logs, accurate drawings of mechanics, amphibians, monsters, Amphibia locations, and lists that only Marcy would consider fun—until her fingers halted at Entry 59.
ENTRY 59
“After a full day of digging through the palace archives, we've come up short. Not a THING in here points to the music box. Not even a reference to A music box. Heck, none of the literature even alludes to it metaphorically. WHERE IS THAT JUICY LORE??! On the plus side... it was nice to get some bro time with Andrias. I told him how wonderful it was to have Anne back safely in my company, and he told me it was touching how close we are as friends.
After pressuring him a bit (turns out elbowing and eyebrow waggling go a long way... if you literally don't stop OR say anything until they crack XD), he told me that he too once had two very close friends... a royal guard and a palace gardener. Back when King Andrias was merely Prince Andrias. The three of them would sneak into these very archives (when they belonged to Andrias's father, the previous king) and draw mustaches on some of the book illustrations!!
His trio sounds a lot like mine! Three troublemakers with hearts of gold. While Andrias was laughing at first, as he reminisced he got more quiet and somber. I could feel something deep within him... a heavy regret of some kind. OR I'M COMPLETELY MISJUDGING HIM BECAUSE READING FOLKS HAS NEVER BEEN MY FORTE ToT
In any case, he seemed hesitant to speak further as we walked down the rows of ancient books together. So I didn't press him - even though I hadn't even gotten a chance to ask their names! And what could have happened to those three friends - dare I say Besties - to break them apart for good? A falling out of some kind? A big fight? Whatever it was, I WON’T let it happen to me, Sasha, and Anne.”
Anne blinked, absorbing each sentence like a clue in a mystery she hadn’t realized she was solving. “Huh… now that’s an interesting thought,” she murmured, tapping her thumb against the page.
So Andrias did have a trio once—two best friends—just like them.
Was that why he spoke ill of friends, like they were a liability? Could that explain why he acted like caring about someone made you weak, and why Andrias sounded so resentful about her friendship with Sprig?
Weak… trusting those who called themselves your friends…
Anne shivered at the echo of his bitter voice in her mind.
She tightened her grip on the journal and pushed onward, curiosity fueling her page flips—only to stop again a mere two pages later.
Anne paused.
Her eyes landed on a familiar image on Entry 62’s page—herself smiling, drawn beside Sprig, Polly, and Hop Pop, all waving goodbye to apparently Marcy as the four leave Newtopia together.
The simplicity of the memory image made Anne wince at the reminder of the Plantars being missing.
ENTRY 62
“I don’t believe it, Jo…
Anne decided to return to Wartwood with the Plantars.
I did suggest the idea, but only because they were all acting SO SAD (and tbh I still kinda thought Anne would say no). It made more sense for us to stay in Newtopia together, but… Like, I’ll still meet up with her after I’ve finished my preparations, but I have to admit I feel a little weird about this. We’re in Amphibia to get closer… to enjoy this adventure together… not… grow apart.
NO MARCY STOP IT. GET THOSE THOUGHTS OUT OF YOUR HEAD! Anne loves those little frogs, and it’s totally right that she should go spend more time with them before our big quest! We’ve got a lot of fun times ahead! I’M BEING SELFISH. It just seemed like Anne didn’t even WANT to stay with me. BAD MARCY NO!
King Andrias found me outside the hotel and mentioned some kind of proposition. He could tell I was a little upset and said we’d talk about it after dinner (hopefully chickenfly nuggies - it’s been a rough day and I NEED MY EMOTIONAL SUPPORT FOOD). I wonder what he wants to propose. He claimed I would find it very interesting…”
Anne almost shut the journal, her fingers trembling slightly.
She didn’t know what hurt more—that Marcy was at war with herself… and had been hiding her inner turmoil in her journal during that day.
Or the possessive tone found within this entry. Even though Marcy’s words still radiated with so much warmth and sincerity, they were shadowed by her unhealthy desire to remain attached to Anne.
Marcy cared very much about their friendship. She genuinely cared for her and Sasha. That indeed was obvious. But beneath that affection, Anne now sensed something deeper… something desperate.
“Did you… want to keep me and Sasha there, Mar-Mar? To yourself—forever?” she whispered, her voice cracking. “Even if it meant—”
She stopped, shaking her head. The thought left a bad taste in her mouth.
And Andrias…
Anne’s frown hardened into a glare as she reopened Marcy’s journal and reread the final lines. The writing about him comforting Marcy made her stomach turn. It felt jarring reading about how jolly and friendly Andrias supposedly was.
“He was playing the long game,” Anne muttered under her breath, feeling her anger surge. “Tricking and manipulating her… so she’d do exactly what HE wanted… And she didn’t even know.”
Her fists clenched. Heat rushed to her face. After knowing of his sinister nature, Anne understood that he had preyed on Marcy’s vulnerability.
The newt king had taken her best friend’s trust and learned about her loneliness—and exploited them for his wicked plans.
Not wanting to stay lost in her rage, Anne forced herself to breathe. She skimmed ahead, afraid of what she might find yet needing to know.
That’s when she saw them.
Some scorch marks burned straight through the paper for Entry 82—its edges blackened and brittle—as if the page had been slightly caught on fire.
Anne’s pulse spiked with alarm. “Are those… burn marks?” she murmured. “Why does this page have them?”
Swallowing her unease with trembling fingers, Anne steadied her breathing, leaned closer, and began to read the half-charred words of the eighty-second entry.
ENTRY 82
“We are setting off this morning for Newtopia.
It was sad seeing Anne say goodbye to the frogs of Wartwood, but I’m sure we’ll come back and visit this world sometime now that the box is fully charged. I can’t tell you what a rush this whole adventure has been. And it’s technically only just getting started?
Like this is basically just the end of the first chapter. And there’s a whole book left to go! I honestly feel like I’m dreaming. Please don’t let me wake up and this whole perfect journey was actually too-good-to-be-true. Like, I’m sorry Mom & Dad, but I’m not coming back for a while. Move our home to wherever you want. I’ve made myself a better one. With the people who really get me and actually care about me. And you won’t tear us apart.
The three of us belong together. Forever.”
Anne stared at the little illustration of her, Marcy, and Sasha beneath the writing—their three hands joined, standing before a colorful portal, hopeful smiles drawn with soft, eager pencil lines.
It was supposed to be the three of them. Together… Unbreakable.
But reality had shattered that dream into pieces.
Marcy’s loneliness manifesting into obsessive clinginess… Sasha’s stifling need for control twisting into manipulation… And Anne herself was caught between them, unable to fix everything.
Her throat tightened.
“...Even if I can get them back,” she whispered, voice barely audible, looking more glum than ever. “Our friendship will never be the same again, will it?”
Her words sank into the silence, unanswered. The weight of Amphibia, of two broken best friends, pressed heavily on her shoulders…
She turned the page, and her heart lurched painfully.
The final entry.
The handwriting was rushed, messier, and frantic—letters clawing at the paper’s other side like desperate screams. No drawings or side notes were on this page; only tear stains decorated it. Burn marks pierced through the page, enhancing the entry’s disastrous tone.
Anne didn’t need to read it to know exactly when Marcy wrote this. Exactly what she must have been feeling.
Now she understood the reason behind the burnt hole marks covering this page and the other side…
“Oh no…” Anne breathed out, her voice trembling.
Her eyes stung, but she forced herself to stare down the truth—the raw moment before everything went wrong.
With a shaking hand, Anne braced herself…
…and began to read.
“HE LIED —
He promised… other worlds… new adventures but —
So much is happening.
Just caught Sprig… bringing him back to the castle on Joe.
Have to do something. Have to get everyone to safety.
Anne… Sasha…
WHAT have I DONE?”
Even just reading it, Anne could feel Marcy’s panic, her voice trembling between every stroke of the pen. The scorched holes weren’t just damage…
They were fear, betrayal, heartbreak, desperation, and pain Andrias had carved into her life.
Anne’s heartbeat spiked as memories of that fateful day flooded Anne’s mind, further stirring the cocktail of emotions that threatened to spill at any moment…
Then she saw the last three words in tiny letters.
“I’m so sorry.”
That was it.
Anne broke.
Her vision blurred instantly as her whole body lurched with the impact of those three words. She felt like she was stabbed through her heart. Anne clenched the journal tight against her chest as sobs ripped out of her.
“How did this happen…? How did all of this happen?” she choked, her voice cracking apart. “Why… why did it happen?”
Tears streamed down her face unchecked, dripping onto the pages already stained with Marcy’s.
How could she possibly do it all?
Find the Plantars, return to Amphibia, save Marcy and Sasha, fix the mess their friendship had become, AND stop a literal inter-dimensional war…
She couldn’t even figure out where she was in this place, or where she needed to go.
And the Plantars, her family, were they even alive?
A horrible thought clawed into her head: Sprig, Polly, and Hop Pop swallowed by those giant snapping plants or meeting their fates by the other monsters lurking in this world.
“No… no, please…” she whimpered, curling in tighter as panic constricted her lungs.
What if she was already too late? What if she had already failed everyone she loved?
‘Was… was this all for nothing?’ Anne’s thoughts spiraled. ’Everything I’ve done… everything I’ve survived… was it all just to end up alone in another terrifying world?’
Faces of everyone dear to her swam in her mind. Sprig’s hopeful grin, Polly’s bold smirk, Hop Pop’s panicked visage… Sasha’s last friendly look preceding the betrayal… Marcy’s fascinated expression… Her mom and dad’s warm, caring smiles…
“I miss them… I miss them so much…” she sobbed, her voice barely a whisper.
Clutching Marcy’s journal like a lifeline, Anne curled beneath the tree. She buried her face in her knees as the full weight of her grief, guilt, and fear collapsed onto her all at once. Her shoulders shook violently, while her breath hitched in broken gasps.
She had never felt smaller, powerless, helpless, or weaker.
But most of all, Anne never felt more… alone.
Entirely… utterly… hopelessly… alone.
Elsewhere, a blue hedgehog was zipping across the fields and rolling hills, scanning the terrain as if hunting for something vital. ‘Come on… we just need to find one before—’
His thought was cut short when his ears twitched at a fragile sound carried by the breeze nearby.
He skidded to a halt, dust scattering at his heels.
His ear flickered the second time when he heard it again—soft, broken… crying.
Brows furrowed, the blue creature jogged to follow the noise down a small slope until he spotted her: a lone human girl curled beneath a tree just off the dirt path. Upon closer look, she had a light brown complexion, and leaves and a twig clung stubbornly to her messy auburn hair. Her school uniform, once neat, was scuffed and dirty. A piece of light gold armor was strapped loosely over her chest. For her footwear, she only wore one yellow shoe on her left foot.
Tears cascaded down her cheeks as she clutched a mauve journal against her chest like a lifeline.
The hedgehog’s expression softened. Something about her—lost, hurting, sorrowful—drew to him. In a way, it felt like looking at a reflection of himself from another life.
The blue stranger took a slow step forward, then another. "Hey, it can't be all bad, right?" he asked with a gentle smile, breaking the silence.
The girl stiffened at the voice. Her sobs hitched to a halt, and she gradually lifted her head—puffy brown eyes locking with curious emerald ones.
A five-months-ago version of Anne Boonchuy would have absolutely screamed. She would have freaked out about the giant talking blue hedgehog.
But after facing such odd creatures—like giant mantises, birds, bugs, and many other abnormal species—Frobots, a tyrant king, and whatever this fungi-infested dimension was supposed to be?
Yeah, it didn’t faze her anymore. This barely cracked the top fifty weirdest things.
“...Huh?” she sniffed.
“You look like you’re having a rough day,” he replied, concern warming his tone. “Wanna talk about it?”
Lowering her gaze, Anne let out a shaky, heavy breath. She slowly lowered the journal and closed it, fingers tightening around its cover.
“Wouldn’t you know…” Anne mumbled bitterly without looking up.
The hedgehog lowered into a crouch so he wasn’t towering over her. He noticed how she avoided his eyes again, staring into the ground like she wished she could sink into it and disappear entirely.
“Maybe not…” the blue stranger answered gently. “But you can always try me.”
Anne found the urge to meet his eyes and stare at him—intensely. Why was this random talking hedgehog poking into her mess of a life?
“Dude, I’ve just been double-crossed three times today,” she snapped, voice cracking under the weight of everything. “How do I know I can trust some stranger like you?”
She expected him to flinch. To back off. To walk away like it wasn’t worth dealing with some crying wreck under a tree.
Rather than doing those things, the hedgehog gave her a small, soft smile—like he’d been there before.
“...Oh well,” Anne muttered under her breath, hanging her head while hugging the journal tighter. “Not like I have much left to lose at this point… at least I could get it off my chest…”
He definitely heard her, but didn’t call attention to it. His smile steadied instead.
“Sounds like you’ve been through a lot lately,” he said, tone light but sincere. “Ey, I get it. Haven’t exactly been having the best day of my life either.” He paused, then nodded to the spot beside her. “Mind if I sit?”
Anne didn’t trust her voice, so she merely nodded. He took a seat, red shoes crunching gently into the grass.
“So…” the hedgehog began as he tilted his head, offering her room to choose her own pace. “What’s wrong?”
Anne inhaled slowly, remaining quiet until she let everything out.
“To put it simply? I’m lost,” she said, voice weary. “One minute, I’m in Amphibia, fighting some tyrannical newt king—then bam. I’m stranded in whatever this mushroom nightmare is.” The Thai-American gave a hollow laugh. “And to top it all off, my adoptive frog family is missing.”
Anne hesitated before mentioning Marcy and Sasha. Not by their names, though.
Besides, she wasn’t ready to tell him that part. At least not yet.
“…And my other best friends are still stuck there with that tyrant. I have no idea how to save them.” Her knuckles whitened around the journal. “I wanted to be someone who could protect my friends. A hero. But even after everything… I still lost them. What kind of hero screws up so bad that they put their loved ones in danger?”
Tears blurred her vision again. She dragged her arm across her eyes.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to dump all this on you,” she mumbled. “But—you did ask.”
…
The hedgehog sat quietly for a moment, absorbing her story. The details about Amphibia, frogs, and a king didn’t fully register with him… but the rest?
Friends in danger. Worlds apart. Feeling like a failure for not being fast—or strong—enough to protect them.
That hit him right in the chest.
“Yeah… I guess I did,” he said softly, his expression slightly lowered. Then he straightened with a small smirk. “But hey… I get where you’re coming from.”
Anne blinked, surprised. “…You do?” she asked.
“Yeah!” he answered immediately. “People know—well, knew—me as a hero too. Believe me, wanting to protect your friends? That feeling doesn’t leave you. And whatever happened back there? It is not your fault.”
The hedgehog nudged her shoulder lightly, smirking. “And from the sound of it? You kicked some serious butt.”
That earned him a tiny, genuine smile.
“Yeah… I did punch that Andrias guy in the face,” she muttered.
Anne’s remark made the speedster chuckle. His laughter was warm and encouraging.
Yet the smile slipped from her lips just as quickly.
“...But what am I supposed to do now?” Her voice thinned into a whisper. “I don’t know this world… I have no idea where Sprig, Polly, or Hop Pop are. Where do I even start? How do I find them? How do I return to Amphibia without the Music Box? And how do I fix things with…” Anne choked once more. “With them?”
The hedgehog’s eyes widened in realization. The girl next to him had come from another world, searching for things (or people, in this case) that were very important to her, and had unfinished business with an evil force from that other world.
Suddenly, this girl’s journey… wasn’t so different from his own.
She needed help.
And he wouldn’t let someone like her face everything alone.
“Heh… Guess that makes two of us,” the hedgehog quipped.
Anne did a double-take at the hedgehog’s statement. “Wait, what? You too?” she asked, head snapping up to look at him.
“Yup,” he confirmed, smirking and tapping his chest with a thumb. “Guess who’s also from another world? And just like you, I wound up here after things went sideways back home.”
He stood and dusted off his white gloves. “My friends and I are searching for these powerful gems called the Chaos Emeralds. They’re scattered all over this place.”
‘Chaos… Emeralds?’ Anne echoed silently, brows raised. They sounded important.
The blue stranger offered her a confident grin. “And you know…” he said, folding his hands behind his head casually, “I think we can help each other out. Why don’t you join us? We’ll keep an eye out for your frog family while we search. Who knows—maybe they’re closer than either of us thinks. We might bump into them during our search, like how we bumped into each other.”
He extended his hand to her. “What do you say?”
Anne stared at that hand for a long second. This hedgehog barely knew her for five minutes. Yet he offered help without hesitation as if they had been friends forever.
“You’d really do that? For someone you just met?” she asked, overwhelmed.
“Of course!” he replied, grin widening. “Helping people’s kinda my thing. And you?” The blue newcomer tilted his head, eyes softening. “You remind me a bit of… well, me. No clue why—but I know I can’t just walk away and leave you here. We’re both strangers in a weird place, right? Might as well stick together.”
Anne looked into his bright green eyes. And for the first time since she woke up here… she didn’t feel alone.
‘What do I have to lose?’ Anne thought.
Slowly, she placed her hand in his. He helped pull her back to her feet.
“Alright, dude,” she said, finding strength in the decision. “I’ll take you up on that offer.”
“Sweet!” he whooped, pumping a fist into the air. Then he struck a playful pose. “Oh! And I should introduce myself, huh? I’m Sonic. Sonic the Hedgehog!”
Anne gave a small, genuine laugh—the first in a long while. “And I’m Anne. Anne Boonchuy,” she said, mimicking Sonic’s introductory manner.
“Well then—awesome to meet ya, Anne!” Sonic beamed, throwing a friendly arm around her shoulders like it was already set in stone. “I’ve got a feeling we’re gonna make one heck of a team!”
Anne smiled, a little steadier now. “...Me too.” She hesitated before further speaking. “And Sonic? …Thanks.”
Sonic winked. “Anytime.”
For the first time today, the pain in Anne’s heart eased. She wasn’t closer to finding Sprig, Polly, or Hop Pop yet… but now she had someone in her corner, someone who understood her struggles.
Anne tucked Marcy’s journal safely into her backpack and fastened the straps tight to her shoulders. Her fists balled with renewed determination.
‘Don’t worry, guys… I’ll find you and a way back to Amphibia soon. I’ll make things right,’ Anne vowed inwardly. ‘I promise.’