The Hyperion Arena was still humming like a struck bell long after the crowd had filed out and the last echoes of “Ashes and Anthems” faded into the night air. Outside, Disney cast members — half still in uniform, half peeled down to regular shirts and badges — lingered by the barricades, chatting in excited clusters about what they’d just witnessed. You could practically feel the afterglow in the air. Even the palm trees seemed to be vibrating with leftover energy.
Backstage, the crew had collapsed into a collective sprawl.
Cassie was lying flat on the cool concrete floor, eyes closed, mouthing the words “I can’t feel my knees.” Jonah sat cross-legged beside her, air-drumming with one hand while sipping a bottle of water like he’d just come down from orbit. Maya was helping Emily repack camera gear, though every time she passed the fog machine controller, she flicked it on just to watch it hiss.
Gabriel lay on the ramp, upside down again, tail flicking lazily, fur still spiked from adrenaline and sweat. “I’m not saying we peaked,” he said to no one in particular, “but I am saying if a spaceship showed up and asked if we wanted to headline on Mars, I’d ask if they have coffee.”
Thane was still at the side of the stage, watching the floor crew sweep glitter and confetti into long, sparkling rows. He hadn’t spoken much since they came offstage, but his posture — relaxed shoulders, hands in his pockets, ears angled up toward the sound of distant fireworks — spoke volumes. This was a rare kind of silence. Not from exhaustion. From contentment.
The backstage lights flickered once. Then again.
A few crewmembers glanced up as the arena’s catwalk dimmed. Then —
A boom. Not from a speaker.
From the sky.
Outside, the first round of fireworks burst overhead in a cascade of gold and white, blooming just above the spires of Cinderella’s castle in the distance. Someone backstage yelled, “They synced the show finale with actual Disney fireworks?!”
Mark didn’t even flinch. “Of course they did.”
The entire crew poured out into the side courtyard, where the view was wide open. Fireworks ripped across the sky in blues, reds, and violet bursts that mirrored the exact color palette Mark had used during the show’s final number. Cassie pointed. “That’s your color scheme.”
Mark nodded like he’d expected it. “Imagineers work fast.”
Gabriel slumped against Thane, sipping from a still-warm coffee he had somehow acquired from somewhere. “We’re not going to top this, are we?”
Thane exhaled slowly. “Not like this. But we’ll find new ways.”
He meant it, and Gabriel knew he did.
As the final volley of fireworks lit the night in silence — just light and movement and the distant boom of something pure — Thane’s phone buzzed in his pocket.
He pulled it out, glanced at the screen, and blinked.
Cassie looked over. “Everything okay?”
Thane showed her the message.
It was short. Simple.
From an unlisted number, but unmistakably real.
“Saw the show. We want you for the late-night slot at Glastonbury. Full main stage. Confirming interest ASAP. Let’s talk.”
Rico leaned in. “Wait, the Glastonbury?”
Gabriel made a wheezing sound. “The UK? The actual Glastonbury?”
Emily blinked, stunned. “We just… we just played Disney World.”
Cassie laughed. “And now we’re going to go blow the doors off Europe.”
Thane put the phone away and looked at his pack, at his family—this strange, chaotic, beautiful mixture of fur, sweat, strings, wires, hearts, and howls.
He smiled.
“Looks like the world isn’t ready to stop hearing us yet.”
Gabriel raised his claws toward the sky, mimicking the fireworks above.
“Then let’s go howl louder.”
And the night carried on, laughter mixing with the final sparkles in the air, as the pack celebrated the end of one chapter—and the beginning of something even bigger.