Louie might have been toasted and shared, but that wasn’t the end—oh no. For a loaf like Louie, destiny had more in store.

  You see, Max had only eaten a slice.

  The rest of Louie sat in a ziplock bag on the counter, nestled between a jar of peanut butter and a half-used onion. But something had changed in Louie. Maybe it was the boy’s ughter. Maybe it was the warmth of the toaster. Whatever it was, Louie was no longer just a loaf.

  He was a Legend.

  “I'm not done yet,” Louie whispered, crust recharged with purpose.

  That night, as moonlight poured through the kitchen window, Louie felt a stir. Not in his crumbs, but in his soul. A glowing warmth came from the slice Max had eaten—something magical, like memory and meaning baked into bread.

  Suddenly, Louie glowed. Not like fire, but like moonlight caught in a bakery window.

  From that glow came Crumbkins—tiny, talking bread crumbs, hopping out of the ziplock bag like excited puppies.

  “Louie! We’re alive!” chirped one, with a golden crusty head and a soft rye accent.

  “What… what are you?” Louie asked, astonished.

  “We’re you, Louie,” said another. “The best parts of you! The parts that brought joy to that boy. You gave life… and we’re here to spread it.”

  Louie was stunned. He had wanted to be remembered. But now he was being multiplied—crumb by crumb—with purpose far beyond a pte or a toaster.

  And then came a knock at the window.

  A shadowy figure peered inside.

  A man in a flour-dusted coat. The baker? No… not quite.

  It was Rond the Rye, an old sourdough sage once thought long stale. He had traveled the world in crusty exile, gathering forgotten recipes and ancient grains.

  “I felt the warmth of awakened crumbs,” Rond said, his voice deep like a breadbox creaking open. “Louie… the world needs you.”

  “Needs me?” Louie asked. “But I’m just… bread.”

  “No. You’re more than bread, Louie. You are the beginning of something greater. The world has forgotten the magic of food made with care, of joy in the simple things. You can bring it back.”

  Louie puffed up, toasted pride rising in his center.

  “I’m ready.”

  The Crumbkins squeaked and hopped into a bread tin. Rond opened his coat, revealing a satchel full of ancient yeast.

  “Then come with me,” Rond said. “It’s time to rise.”

  And just like that, Louie left the kitchen counter and followed the old sage into the night—toward floury adventures, saucy vilins, and the most daring quest ever taken by a loaf.

  To be continued...