The night stretched endlessly around her — quiet, cold, watching. The moon hung high, bathing Isabella in a pale, ghostly light that softened her anger but not the ache behind it. The breeze tugged at her dress, made her hair dance around her shoulders, and sowhere in the trees, a lone owl hooted like it, too, could sense her unrest.
Bubu’s screen floated before her, flickering faintly. The little system had been unusually silent since her outburst — no teasing quips, no sarcastic comnts, just the faint hum of its energy cutting through the stillness.
Then, softly, it spoke — and for once, it didn’t sound like a system at all.
[Isabella,] Bubu began, its tone careful, steady, gentle. [There is a reason I persuaded you that day to accept the necklace.]
Isabella froze, her arms crossing instinctively as if shielding herself from invisible claws. Her jaw tightened. "Don’t," she whispered, her voice shaking despite her best effort to steady it. "Don’t talk about that."
[You have not begun cultivation,] Bubu continued, undeterred. [You are still carrying the sa weak human body you transmigrated with. That mountain —] the screen flickered, and for a split second, its voice faltered, like it was afraid to continue, [— it feeds on energy. It consus everything alive that dares to approach it. You lasted barely a day the last ti you were there, and it had already drained more than half of your life essence.]
The words hit her harder than she expected.
Her brows knitted, her lips parting slightly. "You’re exaggerating."
[Am I?] Bubu countered softly. [Then why did you faint for three days when you ca back last ti?]
Isabella’s throat went dry.
She didn’t have an answer for that.
She rembered the pain, though — that strange, invisible pull that had left her breathless and cold. The way her vision dimd. The way her heart felt like it was being strangled from the inside. She rembered all of it.
And yet...
Her pride wouldn’t let her admit it.
"So what you’re saying," she said finally, folding her arms tighter, "is that I can’t go unless I use his necklace."
[Correct,] Bubu replied. [Without the necklace, your body will not last an hour.]
Her jaw clenched. The thought of touching that necklace — of wearing sothing that still slled like him — made her chest ache in ways she couldn’t put into words. It wasn’t just jewelry; it was a reminder. Of him. Of the mark. Of everything she was trying to forget.
"Fine," she muttered, forcing out a dry laugh. "Then why don’t we just make a new one? A custom one. One that doesn’t belong to him."
Bubu hesitated.
[Host, a custom artifact with that level of protective enchantnt would require a minimum of 9,000 points.]
Isabella blinked, stunned. "Nine thousand?"
[You currently have 7,567.]
She almost laughed again, but it ca out broken this ti — sowhere between disbelief and exhaustion. "Perfect," she whispered. "Just perfect."
Isabella felt defeated—utterly, bone-deep defeated—because she knew there was no way she was going to use all her points. Not like this. Not for sothing that reminded her of him.
She wrapped her arms around herself, staring at the floating blue light that pulsed faintly in front of her. It wasn’t just about the points, not really. It was about what the necklace ant. About what it forced her to rember. Every second she stood there, the world seed to whisper his na back to her—the echo of Cyrus’s voice still soft in her mind, the warmth of his touch still burned into her skin.
The air felt too still, too heavy, pressing against her chest.
Her shoulders slumped. The fight drained out of her like air from a punctured vessel. She could feel it — that creeping heaviness in her chest, the kind that sat there like a stone no matter how deep she breathed.
Bubu hovered closer, its usual cheerful glow dimd to a faint, soft blue. For a long mont, it just hovered there, silent. Then, quietly, it said —
[Isabella, I know this is sudden for you.]
Isabella’s eyes flicked up, startled. It wasn’t like Bubu to sound so... human.
[And I know it’s too much. But you have to put yourself first. You have to survive. That is what matters right now.]
Its tone softened further, like a whisper beneath the night wind.
[And I have to put you first. That is my responsibility as your system.]
For a mont, Isabella couldn’t speak. Her throat tightened painfully as the words sank in. It wasn’t pity she heard in Bubu’s voice — it was care. Quiet, unwavering care from sothing that wasn’t even supposed to feel.
Her eyes burned, but she forced the tears back. She wouldn’t cry. Not again.
Slowly, her gaze drifted downward — to the necklace lying near her travel pack. The blue crystal nestled in its silver setting glead faintly, shaped like a crescent moon. The color reminded her of the sky just before dawn — deep, endless, and warm in a way that felt like safety.
It pulsed once, faintly, as if alive.
Isabella stared at it, her expression unreadable.
She rembered the hot afternoon he’d given it to her — the quiet way he had placed it in her hands, the way his eyes had softened when she’d hesitated. "It’ll protect you," he’d said. "Even when I’m not there."
Her chest squeezed.
She hated how much she rembered.
Slowly, she reached out, brushing her fingers against the pendant. The tal was cool against her skin, but the crystal’s light was warm — alive — almost like it recognized her touch.
Her breath caught.
She clenched her jaw, forcing the tremor out of her voice. "Alright," she whispered finally. "Hand it to ."
Bubu didn’t say anything — just floated quietly beside her, its glow steady but faintly flickering, as though mirroring her own unspoken hesitation.
Isabella’s fingers curled around the necklace.
In that mont, she sealed off every part of her heart that still ached. Every mory. Every echo of his na. Every trace of warmth he had ever left behind.
To her, it was just a necklace now.
No Cyrus. No love. No pain.
Just a tool to survive.
And as she fastened it around her neck, the pendant shimred faintly — the crystal pulsing once like a heartbeat, before settling into silence.
She didn’t notice the tear that slid down her cheek until it hit the ground.
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