CHAPTER 415: CHAPTER 415: ISABELLA—NOW—

The air rippled the moment Isabella appeared, light bending, wind whispering, earth humming beneath her feet. The mountain stretched before her like something pulled from an ancient dream—tall, shrouded in fog that shimmered faintly with silver-blue light. Crystals jutted out from the rocks like sleeping stars, their glow painting her skin in pale shades of moonlight.

For a heartbeat, it was beautiful. Almost heartbreakingly so.

And then she realized—

It was quiet.

Too quiet.

The last time she had stood here, the mountain had been alive. Birds had cried out in the distance, leaves had whispered under the wind, and the faint hum of magic had felt warm, inviting. But tonight, the air was still. The silence pressed against her ears until it started to ache.

It didn’t feel like midnight. The sky above was washed in faint hues of blue and violet, the moon hidden behind a veil of slow-moving mist. But the stillness—the way the air hung thick and heavy—made it feel like the world itself was holding its breath.

"Bubu," Isabella whispered, her voice small against the endless quiet.

A faint shimmer appeared beside her, the familiar glow of her system manifesting midair.

"Yes?," Bubu answered, its tone clipped, unusually low.

Isabella frowned. "Why is it so quiet?"

Before Bubu could answer, there was a sound—soft, distant, but sharp enough to slice through the silence.

Crack.

It came from somewhere behind her.

Isabella froze. Her fingers tightened around Glimora’s small body. The little beast shivered in her arms, its tail wrapping tightly around her wrist. The hair on the back of Isabella’s neck prickled.

She turned slowly, her eyes scanning the fog-draped forest line.

"Bubu," she whispered again, voice trembling. "What... what was that?"

The system didn’t answer immediately. The glow of its screen flickered once, twice, before its mechanical voice returned—only this time, it wasn’t playful or calm. It was tense.

[You need to find shelter. Now.]

Isabella blinked, confused. "Wait—what?"

[Come with me.]

That was new.

Usually, Bubu would’ve made her earn safety—throwing a dozen ridiculous quests her way just for fun, like ’Find a cave by yourself, Host. Bonus points if you don’t die!’

But not tonight.

The tone in Bubu’s voice was different—stern, urgent. And that made her stomach drop.

"Why don’t you just make me go find one?" she asked, trying to sound brave. "You know, like usual. Wouldn’t that get me more points or something?"

There was a pause. Then—

[You can do that when it’s daytime.]

The voice was sharper now, like a whisper of static through the air.

[Not now. It’s dangerous when it’s night.]

Isabella’s heart gave a hard, uneven thud.

Bubu never sounded like that.

"Night?" she repeated quietly, looking around at the strange, glowing light. "But it doesn’t even look like night here. The sky’s bright. How am I supposed to know when it’s day or night?"

[The mountain doesn’t follow mortal time,] Bubu said. [It shifts on its own. The light lies. The air deceives. When darkness comes here, you won’t see it until it’s already too late.]

Isabella’s grip on Glimora tightened. The small creature made a soft noise—a faint, pitiful whimper—as its glowing eyes darted around the mist.

"Okay..." she breathed, her throat dry. "Then how will I know when it’s night time?"

There was a pause.

[You’ll know, Host,] Bubu said finally. [You’ll always get a warning from me. Now keep quiet—and walk faster.]

Something in the tone made her spine straighten instantly.

"Walk faster?" she muttered, half to herself. "Sure, easy for you to say when you float around like a glowing bug."

But even her sarcasm came out shaky.

Glancing down, she saw Glimora staring up at her—wide-eyed, trembling, her fur standing on end. Isabella forced a small smile, whispering, "Hey, don’t look at me like that, I’m the brave one here, remember?"

Glimora let out a soft squeak, clearly unconvinced.

And together, they walked.

The mist thickened the higher they climbed, wrapping around them like cold silk. The sound of their footsteps on stone echoed faintly, too loud in the emptiness. Every few steps, Isabella would glance over her shoulder, heart hammering in her chest.

Then—

Crack.

Her foot snapped a dry branch.

The sound tore through the quiet like a scream.

"Ah—ouch!" she hissed, stumbling forward, clutching Glimora tighter. Her pulse spiked as she tried to steady herself.

The echo of the broken stick faded into the air—

And then, something shifted.

It wasn’t just the sound. It was the world.

The mist thickened, the faint blue glow dimming like a dying heartbeat. The air grew heavier, colder. Even the ground seemed to tremble, a deep, slow vibration under her feet.

"Bubu..." she whispered, her voice barely a breath. "What—what’s happening?"

The system’s glow flared once, its tone suddenly sharp—no longer calm, no longer composed.

[Fan out. Now.]

And before Isabella could even ask what that meant—

The air around her screamed.

The air split open with a screech that didn’t sound natural. It was too sharp, too alive—like the mountain itself had suddenly exhaled. Isabella’s pulse thundered in her ears. The world seemed to blur around her, the mist twisting and coiling like it was watching.

Bubu’s words still echoed in her head. Fan out now.

Her body moved on instinct. Her trembling fingers reached into her spatial pocket, and in one fluid motion, she pulled out her fan—the same one that shimmered faintly with a pink and white glow when she summoned it. She didn’t even have time to unfold it properly before she froze.

Because she wasn’t alone anymore.

They were standing there.

Five of them.

At first, she thought they were goats. Small, harmless, their white fur glimmering faintly under the eerie blue haze that blanketed the mountain. But something—something—was wrong.

They were standing upright.

Not on four legs. On two.

Their bodies were shaped like men, their limbs thin and too long, joints bent in places they shouldn’t bend. And yet, their faces... their faces were almost innocent. Big glassy eyes. Soft mouths. A strange, childlike expression that made her stomach twist.

Isabella blinked once. Then twice.

Her breath came out uneven.

"B-Bubu," she whispered, her voice trembling. "What... what are those?"

The goats—or whatever they were—didn’t move. They just watched her, their unblinking eyes reflecting the blue light like shards of glass.

Her grip on her fan tightened until her knuckles turned white. Glimora trembled in her arms, the little creature pressing closer against her chest.

They looked harmless. They looked cute, even.

And maybe once upon a time, she would’ve fallen for that—would’ve stepped closer, tilted her head, whispered something stupid like, Aww, look at the little mountain spirits.

But not anymore.

Not after what she had seen in this world.

Not after the last time she thought something small and adorable wouldn’t bite.

Her throat went dry. Her instincts screamed danger.

Her entire body went tense, her muscles coiling, ready to run or fight—whichever came first.

"Bubu..." she whispered again, eyes locked on the eerie stillness of those goat-like things. "They’re not what I think they are, right?"

Bubu’s voice came through her earpiece, flat and clipped, no trace of its usual sass.

[Be on guard, Host. Focus. And stop talking to me. You have to get yourself out of this.]

That was all. No explanation. No sarcasm. No backup.

Just that.

Isabella’s heart skipped a beat.

Even Bubu sounded scared.

The mountain wind picked up, whispering low through the grass, brushing against her skin like icy fingers. The fog curled tighter around her legs.

And the creatures—those eerie, motionless things—tilted their heads all at once.

Left.

Right.

Together.

Like they were mimicking her.

The sound of Glimora’s tiny whimper echoed faintly. Isabella swallowed hard, her fan trembling slightly in her grip.

The air grew heavier.

One of the creatures took a step forward. Its hoof hit the stone ground with a dull, deliberate clack.

Then another followed.

And another.

Their movement was stiff, jerky—like puppets trying to remember how to walk.

Their heads tilted again.

Their glassy eyes glimmered.

And then—

Their mouths began to open.

Slowly.

Wider.

Wider.

Too wide.

Skin cracked. Flesh tore. The innocent faces split open down to their throats, revealing rows of black, needle-like teeth that stretched and curved like blades.

A wet, slithering sound filled the air.

Glimora whimpered again, burying her face in Isabella’s chest.

Isabella took a shaky step back, the ground crunching beneath her feet. Her chest rose and fell rapidly.

"Oh my god..." she breathed, voice barely more than a whisper.

And then—

They smiled.

All five of them.

Smiled with those shredded, gaping mouths.

And laughed.

The sound was wrong. It wasn’t human. It wasn’t beast. It was both—high and low, echoing through the mist like hundreds of voices trapped inside their throats.

Bubu’s voice came through the static—urgent, sharp.

[Isabella—NOW—]

Too late.

The nearest creature lunged.