For a long time, there have been only rumors of Adventurer Cookie's travels far and wide beyond the Witch's island, but now he's back and ready to guide the other Cookies into uncharted territories of a new exciting world. Adventurer Cookie has got quite a lot of stories to tell: about legendary dragons, kingdoms in ruins, but... So little time! His thirst for the unknown is unquenchable, and he will continue to roam the wide world as long as possible.

Blackberry Cookie always wears a reserved look, but it would be hard to find a more caring and devoted Cookie. She has been working at one prestigious household for a long time, and is praised for her miraculous ability to do a multitude of tasks in virtually no time! Despite Blackberry Cookie's tightest schedule, she always finds the time to save the life of her venturesome employer. Perhaps, this is her main duty these days.

Amidst a boundless field of wheat shimmering like a gold sea underneath, a humble and noble Cookie opened her eyes. As warm and generous as the autumn of earth, this Cookie soon became adored by all who met her. First Grain Cookie is especially attuned to the needs of the hungry, and she is never able to turn a blind eye to their plight. With a graceful wave of her Grainstalk Staff, young sprouts burst forth from even the most arid of soil, and with a second wave, they become crops filled with the promise of a bountiful harvest. In the presence of First Grain Cookie, no one has to live with the fear and misery of hunger ever again

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In the name of the Dough, the Oven, and the Witches, I shall fulfill my sacred duty!" Pastry Cookie left her name and her past behind on the day of her Sacred Brining when she was rebaked as a devoted sister of the St. Pastry Order. "... like a rolling pin flattening the many layers of pastry dough into uniformity, hardships and suffering produce the endurance to conquer the temptations of our crumbly bodies and souls." Now, looking from under the golden phyllo veil, these eyes see nothing else but a turbulent world to be rebuilt in the Order's image. Wielding the Fork of Judgment, her consecrated crossbow, Pastry Cookie has set on her next mission to investigate a tainted shrine. And you would be wise not to stand in her way: the cruel cold metal hungers to deliver judgment.

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Pom-pom Dough Cookie was born in the gloomy darkness of the Laboratorium, amidst whispering spores. Her dough is light and brittle, weakened by the mycelium and the cold breeze that have seeped deep within—explaining why she moves swiftly and vanishes from sight in an instant. Her wrath took root long before her heart had a chance to warm, leaving her to regard the warmth of others as nothing more than a nuisance. Yet behind her cold exterior lies her true self, revealed only to two Cookies who share the same pain. For a fleeting moment, she may let her guard down—before retreating once more into icy detachment. Pom-pom Dough Cookie never stops spinning her spores or turning over the same thought in her mind: if we're destined to suffer, then the whole world must disappear!

Powerful Dough Cookies emerge from the depths of the Laboratorium! The roughest and toughest among them is Mold Dough Cookie, engineered with regenerative powers capable of mending even the most severe crumblage. This Cookie, whose chest is branded with mysterious symbols, offers faint smiles and scarce words only to Cookies sharing the same origin. Within the facility, researchers whisper that Mold Dough Cookie may harbor a dangerous, hidden power. Whatever the truth, he stands firm as the impenetrable shield to Dark Enchantress Cookie's forces, carrying out her orders in sinister silence. Is his unwavering obedience born of loyalty... or something far more unsettling?

A Cookie has made the Laboratorium tremble in fear with their violet venom and invisible shockwaves... Wielding psionic powers to overwhelm their enemies, this Cookie is none other than the Seer of Twilight, Venom Dough Cookie. Born from Dark Enchantress Cookie's meticulous design deep within the lab, they carried out her missions with chilling detachment-even in the face of death-and rose to become the spiritual leader of the Dough Trio. As others bowed to Dark Enchantress Cookie's orders, Venom Dough Cookie's venomous particles quivered in silent defiance. Trapped within an endless cycle of pain, they could not fathom when it all would end... When the other Dough Cookies cried out, their doughs crumbling in agony, Venom Dough Cookie's eye gleamed with a forbidden thought: if we could bring down our creator... perhaps they could finally be freed from this exploitation and suffering.

In the heart of a labyrinthine forest, bathed in warm sunlight by day and gentle moonlight by night, a Cookie awakened beneath a towering berry tree, its branches heavy with thousands of fruits. Many Cookies were drawn to her kindhearted nature and gentle smile, like sheep to a shepherd. They came to know her as First Berry Cookie, and her presence was so comforting that not a single Cookie ever left her side. Or perhaps... none could. Whether First Berry Cookie is aware of the whispers and rumors that surround her, no one can say. But even now, nestled among her treasured keepsakes, memorabilia, and regalia, she quietly stirs a pot of fresh berry jam. For the Cookies, for her friends. To keep everyone close, always.

First Milk Cookie watches over the Sanctum of Healing with quiet grace, her hands as gentle and soothing as warm milk as she tends to every wounded soul. Though she brings comfort to those in pain, within her own dough stirs the pain of guilt. Like jam left to boil over, the remorse of having turned away from those in need clings to her heart, gnawing at her conscience with each passing day. Thus, behind her serene smile, tracks of sorrow linger and will not easily fade. Just as cloudy milk can be refined into something pure and nourishing, so too might she, one day, embrace her own wounds and rise anew as a healer of both body and soul. When that moment arrives, the sanctum will become a true beacon of healing and compassion.

There once was an actor who, through countless plays rising and falling, never once relinquished the crown of the leading role. As if to prove his unwavering throne, fan service was never forgotten during curtain calls. Yet that composure, too, was merely a mask as fragile as sugar glass. Whenever someone sent a script foretelling the future, dread would crash over the actor-the fear of being nothing more than a marionette dancing to another’s written words… Was this resistance against that fate? The actor swept open a cape and cried out lines that appeared in no script. So what if it’s a prophecy of death? I’ll simply shatter it! The era of fated discord is no more!

Does the Shadow-like cloak whisper lines to its wearer? Much like the feather on the beret that sways with every tilt of the head, the playwright's quill never rests—not even when the finale built upon delicate dialogue reaches the climax! When ink scrawls across parchment to capture every fleeting spark of inspiration, Cookies find themselves laughing and weeping at lines so vivid they peer into someone's very soul... Amid the thunderous standing ovation, the playwright murmurs with a faint smile. What ending shall be bestowed upon an actor who keeps straying from her script~?

The birth of a Leavened one is much like the formation of great clouds... Lo and behold as brilliant clouds rise surrounding one who has achieved enlightenment. At one point, this very Cookie struggled, plagued by the thought of those whose dough writhed in greed despite arduous training. However, the abrupt coming of the scent of a peach bao granted peace to her troubled mind. With a newfound dedication, to her meditation, she has new reached the status of the Leavened One. May there be no suffering found before the great Cookie who has reached this state. A procession of followers has formed beneath her since. May her teachings spread throughout all nature!

In the dead of night, when the entire world is asleep, a shadow glides through the darkness... Choco Drizzle Cookie. Once her eyes lock onto a target, she becomes relentless—almost viscous, like sticky chocolate syrup. Perhaps it's because her dough is infused with the most bitter cocoa powder, but Choco Drizzle Cookie carries out her missions with extreme precision and ruthless efficiency. This is why she is the Master's most trusted, leaving even her other sisters behind. No one knows the true reason behind their rigorous upbringing, or why they were sent to Crispia... but one thing is certain: no Cookie can escape her blade in the dark.

Checkmate!" Two voices ring as one. Against them, no one stands a chance in a battle of wits upon the chessboard. Bars if dark and white chocolate were broken in half and whittled into the shape of Pawns. Once they were finished and set on the board, the twins began playing chess on their own! Come rain or shine, the two love to play on the chessboard. These siblings are inseparable, always hand in hand and walking together. When Pawn White Cookie opens the chess board, Pawn Black Cookie opens the chessboard, Pawn Black Cookie entices other Cookies to join a match. Playing a round each, the prodigies engage their opponents. Twins they may be, but their tactics and maneuvers are as distinct as day and night. Pawn Black Cookie favors a cautious strategy utilizing the King and Rook, Pawn White Cookie charges forward with an opening gambit to quickly promote Pawns into Queens. They have recently been singing about playing a new game, far more challenging and lucrative than chess. What exactly are they plotting other than chess openers?

The thin veil drawn beneath the rose-embroidered crimson bonnet flutters with each step. The flame of her candle flickers as though desperate to comfort the crumbled... And yet her very heart harbors only stillness in the face of the eternal farewell, for it is merely a new beginning. Her curiosity and anticipation for the world beyond are like a butterfly, scattering glimmering powder with each movement of its wings. The crumbled shall depart, yet the memories will remain.

There is always a guest who arrives first at a ceremony of last respects. His white armor and one-eyed mask reveal not a speck of dough as he awaits the moment when the last mourner has laid their flowers. The guest then reaches his hand to the crumbled to announce the beginning of a journey—the final journey towards eternal rest. Perhaps, one day, someone will notice the tears in these eyes that have witnessed countless farewells.