SECRET N° 329 The Shell Wars 13

in central project11 days ago

Chapitre 13 : La Forêt a les Oreilles Qui Traînent

(Où l’on découvre qu’une taupe peut être trop bien informée, et qu’un fromage peut contenir un micro-espion.)

UNE CALME QUI SENT LA TEMPÊTE (ET LE CAMEMBERT)
Quelques jours après la grande victoire contre le Crabe Suprême, la forêt semblait paisible. Trop paisible.

Les oiseaux chantaient faux mais joyeusement.
Les grenouilles organisaient des karaokés de marais.
Même Jean-Rasoir avait rangé ses torches pour une pause méditative… de 14 secondes.

Mais Castagnor, lui, sentait venir quelque chose.

— "Quelque chose ne tourne pas rond... et ce n’est pas juste le fromage de Speedo."

Speedo, vexé, replia lentement sa nappe de dégustation :

— "C’est un coulant bio. Il est censé sentir le lichen mort."

AGENT CHIFFON DE RETOUR (AVEC DES SCOOPS)
Agent Chiffon, le célèbre agent-taupe à nœud papillon, refit surface. Littéralement. Sous la table du Conseil.

— "Mes oreilles ont entendu ce qu’elles n’auraient pas dû."

— "Tu parles de la chorale des blaireaux ?"
— "Non. Pire."

Il sortit un fromage coulant… avec une petite antenne qui dépassait.

— "Micro-espion. Planqué dans du brie. Quelqu’un enregistre tout. Absolument tout."

— "Même… mes siestes ?" demanda Speedo, pâle comme une truffe fraîche.
— "Même tes soupirs."

LE RETOUR DU RUMEURON
Dans les recoins de la forêt, un nom circulait à nouveau :

Le Rumeron.
Mi-écureuil. Mi-perroquet. 100% commérage.

Capable de tout répéter, amplifier et déformer.
Il avait été banni après avoir déclenché une guerre entre hérissons et châtaignes (qu’il avait accusées d’espionnage odorant).

Et voilà qu’il serait de retour, selon Chiffon :

— "Il travaille pour… quelqu’un. On ne sait pas qui. Mais il a un objectif."

— "Semer la panique. Et récupérer les Clés du Tronc Sacré."

Castagnor blêmit.

— "Mais ces clés ouvrent la Chambre des Noisettes Premières !"

— "Et aussi le placard à gâteaux."

UN PLAN (PRESQUE) SUBTIL
L’équipe se réunit dans le plus grand des champignons stratégiques.

Objectif :

Trouver le Rumeron.

L'empêcher de répandre une rumeur fatale.

Résister à l’envie de taper Jean-Rasoir, qui ne cesse de faire "pshht pshht" avec sa mini torche.

Belladonna mit au point une mission d’infiltration déguisée :
Speedo porterait une perruque d’ortie.
Jean se ferait passer pour un arbre (en criant "je suis un arbre" régulièrement).
Pluminette enregistrerait les rumeurs pour les contrer avec… d'autres rumeurs.

LE DÉBUT DU CHAOS MOU
Au cœur d’une clairière brumeuse, le Rumeron apparut.

— "Chuuuut… Le Conseil prépare un pudding explosif…"
— "Les grenouilles veulent annexer la mare centrale…"
— "Castagnor dort avec un doudou en forme de noisette !"

Chaque phrase semait la zizanie.

Les animaux se mettaient à douter de tout.

Un cerf accusa un mulot de trahison gustative.
Un blaireau déclara la guerre aux papillons.
Et Jean-Rasoir… mit le feu à une pancarte : "STOP AUX RUMEURS".

Ironie.

À SUIVRE…
Alors que la clairière se transforme lentement en bouillie de soupçons et de fake nuts, Castagnor se dresse, ferme :

— "On va faire taire cette langue de bois. Pour de bon."

Belladonna sort une plume empoisonnée.

Pluminette murmure :
— "Que la guerre des mots commence."

Chapter 13: The Forest Has Eavesdropping Ears

(Where we learn that a mole can know too much, and a cheese can hide a spy microphone.)

A CALM THAT SMELLS LIKE STORM (AND CAMEMBERT)
A few days after the great victory over the Supreme Crab, the forest seemed peaceful. Too peaceful.

The birds sang off-key but happily.
The frogs hosted swamp karaoke nights.
Even Jean-Rasoir had put away his torches for a brief meditative pause… of 14 seconds.

But Castagnor had a feeling.

— "Something’s not right... and it’s not just Speedo’s cheese."

Speedo, offended, slowly folded up his tasting cloth:

— "It’s an organic runny cheese. It’s supposed to smell like dead lichen."

AGENT CHIFFON RETURNS (WITH SCOOPS)
Agent Chiffon, the famous mole-spy with the bowtie, resurfaced. Literally. Under the Council table.

— "My ears have heard things they really shouldn’t have."

— "You mean the badger choir?"
— "No. Worse."

He pulled out a runny cheese… with a tiny antenna sticking out of it.

— "Spy-mic. Hidden in brie. Someone’s recording everything. Absolutely everything."

— "Even… my naps?" asked Speedo, as pale as a fresh truffle.
— "Even your sighs."

THE RETURN OF THE RUMERON
In the shadowy corners of the forest, a name had started to circulate again:

The Rumeron.
Half-squirrel. Half-parrot. 100% gossip.

Capable of repeating, exaggerating, and distorting anything.
He had been banished after starting a war between hedgehogs and chestnuts (he’d accused them of smelly surveillance).

And now, according to Chiffon, he was back.

— "He’s working for… someone. We don’t know who. But he has a goal."

— "To spread panic. And seize the Keys to the Sacred Trunk."

Castagnor turned pale.

— "But those keys open the Chamber of the First Nuts!"

— "And the cookie cabinet too."

A (SEMI) SUBTLE PLAN
The team gathered inside the largest strategy mushroom.

Objective:

Find the Rumeron.

Stop him from spreading a deadly rumor.

Resist the urge to smack Jean-Rasoir, who kept going "pshht pshht" with his mini torch.

Belladonna devised a stealth mission:
Speedo would wear a wig made of nettles.
Jean would pretend to be a tree (by yelling “I’m a tree” repeatedly).
Pluminette would record the rumors in order to fight them… with other rumors.

THE SOFT BEGINNING OF CHAOS
In the heart of a foggy clearing, the Rumeron appeared.

— "Shhh… The Council is preparing an explosive pudding…"
— "The frogs want to annex the central pond…"
— "Castagnor sleeps with a nut-shaped teddy bear!"

Each phrase spread havoc.

The animals started doubting everything.

A deer accused a mouse of flavor betrayal.
A badger declared war on butterflies.
And Jean-Rasoir… set fire to a sign that said: “STOP THE RUMORS.”

Irony.

TO BE CONTINUED…
As the clearing slowly turned into a stew of suspicion and fake nuts, Castagnor stood tall:

— "We’re going to shut that gossip-beak. For good."

Belladonna unsheathed a poisoned feather.

Pluminette whispered:
— "Let the war of words begin."


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