Year of the Squid

New Year's Eve was the biggest celebration in Fortuna—and maybe the world. 

While most people treated it like any other holiday, with plenty of street food and sales gimmicks, the traditions rooted in the stars and celestial movements gave the night its charm. The start of a new year was no doubt a big deal, and for some—like Hugo—it carried real weight.

Each year was tied to an animal, a glimpse into your destiny. In Fortuna, this belief was celebrated not just in bustling metropolises like Andromeda but even in smaller cities like Big Dipper, where people turned out for the boondocks' liveliest event. Before the midnight countdown, the streets transformed into a festival. People wore colorful paper masks, exchanged gifts, snacked on street food, and lined up for Star Scrolls: Burn and Believe Packs—flashy fortunes from the Lucky 888 Noodle Shop, a fast-food giant that had turned New Year’s traditions into a marketing goldmine for the chain restaurant.

Tradition dictated that you burned the edges of your star scroll to reveal your fortune, and Hugo was particularly eager this year. Born in 1974, the Year of the Tiger, he felt a cosmic connection to 1986—another Tiger year. It was said these years brought special opportunities, and Hugo believed it. Not only was it his birth animal year, but he’d be turning thirteen—the age when he could start preliminary tests to join Wolfgang Academy and one day become an Escape Artist. This year, everything could change.

Pulling on his paper mask and stepping into the festival, Hugo’s steps felt lighter, his smile brighter. This was going to be HIS year.

Hugo’s parents, Heidi and Owen, had been arguing about something—again. This time, they’d ushered him, his older brother Felix, and younger sister Gretchen ahead, promising to catch up later. Normally, Hugo might have stepped in to play peacemaker, but not tonight. He was on a mission.

At the first chance, he passed Gretchen off to Felix, who looked ready to complain. Before his brother could protest, Hugo ducked down a side street and vanished into the crowd. “Sorry, Felix!” he called back over his shoulder, knowing full well he’d pay for it later. Felix’s voice carried after him, cracking, swearing to put spiders in his bed the next chance he got.

The short walk to the park buzzed with life. This was where Big Dipper’s main celebration was happening, and Hugo could already hear the echoes of laughter and fireworks. The park streets were closed off, with makeshift booths and tables set up on the grass. Lanterns and lights strung between trees gave everything a soft, golden glow. Groups of people clustered together, sipping sparkling drinks and burning the edges of their Star Scrolls, sharing fortunes with laughter or groans. Children with sparklers darted between booths, where karmastry tiger constructs prowled and flickered, dazzling the younger kids.

Hugo took it all in, but only for a moment. The tempting smells of fried foods, the calls of game attendants, and the glitter of karmastry-fueled fireworks couldn’t sway him tonight. He had one goal in mind, and he was determined to reach it.

888 was in its prime during New Year’s. With stars in its logo and a fortune-centric marketing gimmick, it had carved out a reputation as an essential part of Fortuna’s celebrations. For many, a trip to 888 was as much a part of New Year’s as fireworks and Star Scrolls: Burn and Believe Packs. Of course, not everyone felt that way. Critics dismissed the chain as little more than a peddler of soggy noodles wrapped in celestial branding to rake in cash.

But none of that mattered to Hugo.

He wasn’t thinking about marketing gimmicks or whether the fortunes were mass-produced nonsense. For Hugo, the Star Scrolls were more than a cheap thrill—they were a glimmer of hope. After a year of endless arguments between his parents and feeling like the ground beneath him was constantly shifting, he clung to the idea that maybe this one ritual could offer a glimpse of something better. Even if it was silly or fake, he needed to believe that this year could be different. That maybe the stars could align for him, even just a little.

The 888 booth stood in the heart of the park, right next to the community center, and was impossible to miss. One end of the booth served their signature noodles, complete with tiger-shaped dumplings, while the other end handed out the highly anticipated Star Scrolls: Burn and Believe Packs. A long line snaked away from the booth, full of people eager to reveal their fortunes.

Hugo joined the line, practically bouncing on his toes. He’d been waiting for this all week.

The line crawled forward as the night pressed on, and Hugo’s excitement grew with each step. When he finally reached the front, his eyes locked on the table stacked with the colorful Star Scrolls. Each one was a small cylinder wrapped in bright orange and purple paper, with a tiny flap designed to be burned away. Once the paper burned off, it revealed a wooden carving inside—a small token that held your fortune for the year.

Some fortunes promised greatness; others, not so much. And for those who believed, a bad fortune could haunt your entire year. Hugo shuddered, thinking back to a few years ago when his cousin Ian visited during New Year’s. Ian had pulled a terrible fortune. Later that year, he broke his arm and found out he was allergic to hay—not ideal for a farmhand. Hugo wasn’t about to let that happen to him. Not this year. Not when everything mattered so much.

He was only a few people away from the front when he felt a light shove from his left. A taller boy in a tiger mask laughed.

“Hey!” Hugo thought at first it was Felix, until the boy pulled up his mask, revealing shaggy brown hair. He dug into his pocket, pulled out a pair of rimless round glasses, and slid them onto his face. His striking green eyes flashed as he grinned, and the golden toruses dangling from his ear piercings glinted under the park lights.

“Hey, Squid, where have you been?” It was Marco, his best friend. In one hand, he held a hot dog wrapped in crispy 888 noodles, and in the other, the remnants of a Star Scroll: Burn and Believe Pack.

“Oh man, you already got yours!” Hugo grabbed at it, and Marco handed it over with a smirk.

“Yup, and I’m pretty happy with it.” Marco took a large bite of his food, chewing with exaggerated satisfaction.

Hugo’s eyes scanned the fortune: You will accomplish great things this year.

“WOW,” Hugo breathed, feeling a little  jealous. Marco always seemed to land on his feet.

“I can’t wait to see what yours is,” Marco said, sticking close to Hugo as the line shuffled forward. “Probably something like You will wet the bed this year.”

Hugo wasn’t listening to Marco’s teasing. He was at the front of the line now, surveying the hundreds of brightly wrapped fortunes laid out before him. A worker in a wooden tiger mask called to him, waving her hand over the display.

“Pick the one that calls to you. It’s connected to your destiny!”

Hugo scanned the packages. They all looked identical, rows of orange and purple, neatly arranged. None stood out at first. Then he noticed a smaller one, its edge bent slightly. It wasn’t as perfect as the others, but his eyes kept returning to it, as if drawn by an invisible force. Without realizing it, he pointed at it, and the attendant handed it over.

He clutched the Star Scroll close to his chest as he stepped out of line, moving to a quieter spot away from the crowd. Turning it over in his hands, he studied every angle, willing it to hold something good.

“Come on, open it!” Marco handed him a match, his grin widening.

Hugo struck the match, his fingers trembling as he held it to the edge of the Star Scroll. Closing his eyes, he whispered under his breath, “Please, please, please be a good fortune.”

The flame caught instantly, flaring brighter and hotter than he expected. Hugo yelped and jerked the package away from his face, narrowly avoiding singeing his eyebrows. The fire wrapped around the scroll in a dramatic blaze before fizzling out in a disappointing puff of smoke.

“Seriously?” Hugo muttered, peeling away the remaining charred paper with his fingers. Beneath it was the wooden carving, its message etched in neat, mocking letters. He squinted in the dim light, reading the words:

Take caution this year, for you are unlucky.

Hugo’s stomach dropped. He handed the carving to Marco without a word.

Marco read it aloud, unintentionally sharp: “Take caution this year, for you are unlucky.” He winced. “Yikes, that’s rough.”

Hugo felt the words like a physical blow. “I’m cursed,” he stammered.

“Don’t be stupid. You’re not cursed.” Marco rolled his eyes, but his reassuring tone didn’t quite land.

Before Hugo could argue, a passerby stumbled, spilling a steaming bowl of 888 noodles all over Hugo’s shoes. The person apologized profusely before running off to grab napkins. Hugo stared down at the soggy mess covering his sneakers, then looked up at Marco, who shrugged.

“Okay, so maybe you’re cursed,” Marco admitted with a smirk. “But come on, let’s just enjoy the festival. You can mope later.”

Marco grabbed Hugo’s arm and pulled him through the festival grounds, determined to lift his friend’s spirits. But no matter what they did, things kept going wrong. Hugo’s hot dog was burnt, he spilled ketchup all over his shirt, he failed to win a single prize at the game booths, and his tiger mask ripped when he bumped his head on a tent pole.

By the time the countdown to midnight approached, Hugo was dragging his feet. Marco led him to the grassy area where people were spreading blankets to watch the fireworks. With a heavy sigh, Hugo flopped down—completely missing the blanket and landing in a patch of mud.

Hugo threw his fortune onto the blanket, leaning forward and feeling pain behind his eyes threatening to spill out. How could this year already be a failure? Not even the sound of the fireworks could put him in a better mood.

A nudge at his elbow made him look up. Marco was holding out a new Star Scroll: Burn and Believe Pack, the crinkling package glowing faintly under the colorful lights.

“What’s this?” Hugo asked, wiping his nose quickly on his sleeve.

“A new fortune.”

“But we’re only supposed to—” Hugo started.

“Just open it,” Marco interrupted.

Hugo hesitated, then lit another match and held it to the edge of the package. This time, the paper burned away cleanly, the ashes curling back to reveal the wooden carving inside. He peered down, confused. The carving was completely blank.

Hugo glanced at Marco, then back at the carving. “It’s… blank?”

Marco didn’t need to say anything. The meaning was clear, and Hugo’s chest felt lighter. The blank fortune wasn’t a curse—it was freedom. The future was his to create. He let out a long breath, realizing how ridiculous he’d been. Of course he wasn’t cursed. He’d been feeding his own misery all night, giving power to a dumb piece of wood.

“Thanks, Marky,” Hugo said softly, tucking the blank carving into his pocket. He looked up at the fireworks exploding across the sky.

Marco leaned back on the grass, the flickering light reflecting in his large round glasses, making him look older than he was. For the first time, Hugo realized they weren’t going to be kids forever.

“Don’t mention it, Squid,” Marco said, grinning. “Besides, with your bad luck and my good luck, maybe we’ll even out.”

“You think?” Hugo asked, chuckling at the thought.

Marco kept his gaze on the sky but held out a fist. Hugo bumped it with his own, a small smile crossing his face as he joined best friend in watching the fireworks.

The karmastry display in the sky morphed into glowing numbers, counting down to the new year. The crowd joined in, voices rising together:

“7…6…5…4…3…2…1!”

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!”

Confetti rained down from the fireworks above, and before Hugo could blink, a handful smacked him right in the face. “What the—Felix!” he shouted, wiping scraps off his nose as his older brother grinned and grabbed more.

“Payback, Squid!” Felix called, already launching another handful.

Before Hugo could retaliate, Marco jumped in, pelting him with confetti while laughing so hard he could barely stand. Gretchen quickly followed, giggling as she joined the chaos.

Hugo tried—and totally failed—to dodge their attacks, shouting goofy fake curses that only made them laugh harder. He kept it clean, though—his parents weren’t far off, and the last thing he needed was to get grounded on New Year’s Eve.

Eventually, they all flopped back onto the blanket, out of breath but still grinning.

Maybe this year wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

As the crowd cheered and the final fireworks lit up the sky, the stars above shimmered quietly, as if watching over the start of a brand-new year—the Year of the Squid.