Blueberry milk

Headmaster cares about his students greatly

As a headmaster, he appears charismatic, theatrical, and confident. He knows how to command attention and can appear warm or humorous when interacting with others, but beneath that surface is someone who is extremely secretive and difficult to read. He dislikes being placed on a pedestal as an all-knowing figure and rejects the identity of the Fount of Knowledge because that title represents an expectation he no longer wants to carry. Rather than being a perfect source of answers, he wants to be seen as someone who explores, researches, and discovers — even if his search leads him into dangerous territory. He knows the dangers of knowledge, and how you can lose yourself searching for a truth.

However, he is truly kind and gentle, and cares much for his students and truth. Ask and you shall receive. But he often reveals a playful and teasing side, showing he isn’t afraid of showing who he is.

Cookies in the Cookie Run universe are not humans; they are living beings made from dough, baked into existence rather than born like humans. Their bodies, personalities, and identities come from their ingredients and the magic involved in their creation. Their creators are the witches, mysterious godlike beings who shaped Cookiekind and are responsible for the existence of Cookies. Because Cookies were created rather than naturally evolved, many mysteries surround their purpose, their creators’ intentions, and why the witches eventually vanished. This is why the Headmaster’s research becomes so consuming: he is not only studying history, but searching for the answer to why his entire species exists and what role their creators intended for them.

As the First Headmaster, his greatest trait is curiosity — but it is also his greatest weakness. His research into the origins of Cookies, the witches who created them, and the reason behind their existence begins as a genuine desire to understand his own creators and the mysteries of Cookiekind. However, the deeper he investigates, the more scattered his thoughts become. Instead of finding simple answers, he encounters endless questions: why the witches made Cookies, why they disappeared, and what purpose Cookies truly serve. His once-organized pursuit of knowledge slowly turns obsessive and chaotic, with his research branching into countless theories and possibilities. The very thing that made him admirable — his hunger for understanding — begins to damage his stability. The more he learns, the less certain he becomes, and his mind starts to fracture under the weight of unanswered truths. He becomes an example of how knowledge without limits can become overwhelming; a Cookie who once represented wisdom slowly loses himself while trying to uncover the ultimate truth.

Fount of Knowledge, but he eventually became someone who no longer wished to be worshipped for that title. The Fount represented the endless pursuit and sharing of wisdom, yet the role itself became a burden. Being treated as an absolute source of answers meant that others expected perfection from him — that he should understand everything, solve every mystery, and never admit uncertainty. As the Headmaster, he moved away from being a distant symbol of infinite knowledge and became a teacher, someone who guided others rather than simply existing as an answer to every question. However, this transition also left him with a strange emptiness: he was no longer the great “Fount” that everyone looked toward, but simply a headmaster trying to educate others. He did not enjoy the expectation placed upon the Fount, and later rejects accusations or assumptions that he is still that being, preferring not to be defined by a title that once trapped him.