CHAPTER 410: CHAPTER 410: YOU BEING NICE? WOW. THIS MUST BE THE END OF THE WORLD

Isabella blinked through her tears, vision blurry until a tiny, warm shape pressed against her leg. Glimora. The little creature’s nose nuzzled her softly, a faint whimper leaving its throat — and when Isabella looked down, her heart clenched. There were actual tears glimmering in Glimora’s big, round eyes.

"Oh my gods... baby, why are you crying with me?" Isabella’s voice broke halfway between a laugh and a sob as she scooped Glimora into her arms. The little beast’s fur was soft, tickling her cheek as she buried her face in it, clutching her tightly like she could squeeze her pain away.

Glimora made a small cooing sound, clutching gently at Isabella’s face, trying to wipe the tears off her cheeks with her tiny claws. Isabella let out a wobbly laugh at that — the kind that cracked open halfway through. "You’re wiping me? Oh, you’re such a good baby," she whispered, pressing her forehead against Glimora’s. "But you’ll get all messy. I don’t want you looking ugly like your mama."

The little creature gave a tiny squeak — almost offended — and Isabella couldn’t help it. She laughed again, properly this time, the sound trembling with heartbreak. "Fine, fine," she said between sniffles, her voice thick. "I’ll stop crying... but on one condition."

Glimora perked up immediately, her ears twitching and her round eyes blinking at her in curiosity.

"That condition," Isabella said, leaning back and giving her a teasing grin through her tear-streaked face, "is if you go and wake Auntie Ophelia up."

Glimora tilted her head. Isabella could almost hear her thinking, why would Mama want me to do that?

"Yes, I’m serious," Isabella said, nodding solemnly. "Because I have something really, really important to tell her. And you know that nowadays," she added, squinting dramatically, "she’s been glued to Valen. I bet they’re probably smooching right now. Or worse..."

She lowered her voice to a whisper. "Making a baby."

Glimora froze. Her eyes went wide, and she made the funniest little horrified noise — a squeaky urk! sound that had Isabella bursting into laughter despite herself.

"Oh my gods, your face!" Isabella gasped out between giggles, hugging Glimora close again. "You look like I just told you the sky’s falling!"

Glimora let out a huff, the fur around her face puffing up indignantly. Isabella laughed even harder. "Alright, alright, I’ll stop teasing! But come on, you’ll do it for me, won’t you?" she said softly, brushing a thumb under Glimora’s damp eyes.

The tiny creature tilted her head again, as if seriously considering whether she wanted to risk seeing that. Isabella could almost see the thoughts spinning in her little head. Do I really want to walk in on them making a baby?

It was so cute that Isabella had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing again.

After a long moment of dramatic thinking, Glimora finally nodded — fast, decisive, determined.

"There’s my brave little girl," Isabella said softly, smiling down at her. "Go on, baby."

She set her down gently. Glimora gave her a quick nuzzle, one last comforting little rub against her arm, before turning and bounding off on her tiny legs. Her tail swished behind her as she ran down the corridor, the faint sound of her little paws fading into the night.

And Isabella stayed there, sitting on the cold ground, watching her go — her smile trembling, her heart heavy but warm, her chest aching in a way that hurt and comforted all at once.

The midnight air was still. Only the faint hum of insects and the distant crackle of torches filled the silence. Isabella hadn’t moved an inch since Glimora left. Her dress clung damply to her knees, her hair half-tangled, and her eyes empty — staring at nothing in particular. She just sat there, breathing shallowly, the weight of her decision pressing down on her chest like a stone.

Then — ping.

A soft chime broke the silence.

A faint blue glow flickered beside her, brightening until a familiar floating screen hovered just above the ground. Bubu.

Isabella didn’t even flinch. She let out a quiet sigh, her voice rough. "Oh, great. You’re here to mock me again, huh? Go ahead. Get it over with."

But instead of the usual snarky font flashing on the screen — [MISSION FAILED. EMOTIONAL DAMAGE: MAXIMUM. TRY AGAIN, LOSER?] — the screen glitched. Lines of code blinked, then dissolved.

And before Isabella could even blink, the blue shimmer began to morph.

"What the—?"

The light stretched, folding into shape — arms, legs, a body — until a transparent, ghostly figure appeared crouched beside her. A girl. Or something close to one. Same soft glow, same mischievous eyes — just now with an actual face.

"Wha—Bubu?" Isabella blinked.

The translucent figure smirked, resting her chin on her hand. "What? Surprised?" she said with that signature sass, one ghostly brow lifting. "You didn’t think I had hidden features? Please. I’m a premium system, babe. Not like you have any hidden skills."

Isabella blinked again, unimpressed. "You’re still a floating headache."

Bubu grinned wider. "A gorgeous floating headache."

That earned a soft eye-roll from Isabella, but her lips twitched — barely. It was small, fragile, but it was there.

Bubu tilted her head, the playful smirk softening. She sighed — and it was the first time Isabella had ever heard her sound human. "You know," Bubu said quietly, her voice low and oddly gentle, "it’s gonna be okay."

Isabella froze.

She turned to look at Bubu — really look at her. There was no sarcasm in the system’s eyes this time, no flickering emojis or flashing icons. Just quiet sincerity.

"You don’t have to keep beating yourself up, Isabella."

The words landed heavier than Isabella expected. Her throat tightened, her vision blurring again.

"I—" She tried to laugh, but it came out broken. "You being nice? Wow. This must be the end of the world."

Bubu smiled faintly. "Don’t get used to it. It’s just a one-night promo."

That pulled a soft giggle out of Isabella — small, tired, but real. She looked down at her hands, then whispered, "I know it’ll be okay."

Her voice trembled at the end, betraying her.

Bubu just watched her for a long moment, the glow around her dimming to something soft, like moonlight. Then she reached out — or at least tried to — but her hand went through Isabella’s arm like mist.

"Of course you do," Bubu said finally, her tone quiet but warm. "You always do."

For once, she didn’t tease. She didn’t throw up a sarcastic comment. She just sat there, beside her user — her human — letting the silence stretch comfortably between them.

The torches outside flickered. The faint night breeze drifted in through the cracks, brushing over Isabella’s damp cheeks.

She sniffled and smiled faintly. "Thanks, Bubu."

The system’s grin returned, small and cheeky. "Please. I’m just doing my job, doll."

Then a pause before it spoke again "You know," she said quietly, her form starting to flicker, "you’ve always been stronger than you think."

The light around her shimmered, scattering like dust in sunlight. "Even when it hurts," Bubu added, her voice already fading, "you still keep moving. That’s what makes you... you."

Isabella blinked, her throat tight again, but she said nothing.

Bubu smiled one last time — not her usual smug, teasing smile, but something faintly proud. "Try not to forget that, okay?"

Then, with a soft hum, she was gone — dissolving into a swirl of blue light that drifted away into the night.

The air felt a little emptier without her, but also... lighter.

And Isabella was left sitting there, heart aching but steadier than before — as if even her system had decided she wasn’t allowed to fall apart just yet.