Dila puffed out her cheeks, then deflated them with a long, exaggerated sigh.
She raised her left hand—bandaged and all—and started lightly tapping her head with her fingertips.
"Hmm… I still can't grasp what I should name you…" she muttered, squinting at the glowing name box.
"It's just—ugh—hard!" She dragged the last word out, rolling her eyes dramatically.
Then her face twisted into a weird mix of confusion and strain—one eye twitching, lips pursed, eyebrows furrowed like she was trying to solve the mysteries of the universe.
Her cheeks puffed out again like a squirrel trying to smuggle apples.
"Hmmhmmhmm… I don't know!!" she finally groaned, flopping back into the pillow while still tapping her forehead like a broken button.
The system blinked patiently, its voice chipper:
"I will wait as long as it takes, Master~"
"…Please don't," Dila muttered, deadpan, with the same weird face still stuck on her.
Suddenly something came up in her mind.
Dila blinked at the screen, then smiled faintly.
"Let's see… since you're kind, helpful, and give me advice…" she paused, tapping her chin. "I guess… Nari will do."
As soon as she said it, the glowing system pulsed warmly.
A soft chime echoed in her head as lines of light traced across the air in front of her like digital ribbons. Then—
■•••• SYSTEM UPDATE COMPLETE ••••■
The interface shimmered with a new polish, the corners of each floating window now curved gently, trimmed with faint blue glows.
A sweet, delicate voice echoed:
Nari is now my A.I name! Pact complete! Thank you, Master~☆~
Dila smiled again, softer this time.
"Yeah… Nari. That feels right."
Hehe~ I'll do my best to guide you from now on, Master~! Let's adventure together~! ☆~
Dila sighed with a tired smile, leaning back against her pillow.
"…Why do I feel like I just adopted a magical pet with personality settings on 'maximum sugar'?"
H-Hey! Don't be like that, Master… you meanieee! Nari's voice puffed with mock offense, like a tiny fairy throwing a soft tantrum in a teacup.
Dila stared at the screen, her lips twitching.
"…Did you just call me a meanieee with triple E's?" she muttered, covering her mouth with her hand as her shoulders started to shake.
Yes! That's the official unit of measurement for emotional damage~☆~ Nari chimed proudly.
One meanieee equals three pokes to the heart and one dramatic spin with sparkles~!
Dila finally snorted, clutching her side.
"Oh gods—stop, my ribs still hurt!"
Hehe~ That's what you get for calling me a pet with sugar settings, Master~☆~
"…Fair," Dila muttered between giggles.
Dila sat quietly on the straw-filled bed, her bandaged fingers resting on her lap, trembling just slightly. Her eyes were half-lidded, lost in deep thought as a faint glow flickered beside her.
"Nari…" she said softly, her voice just above a whisper, "...about the first time I got here… were you involved in dragging me into this world?"
There was a pause. Dila's eyes darkened with the memory. "I remember… I was terrified. I reached my hand into the computer screen, and that… thing—like a glitching monster—pulled me in. It gave me some kind of quest or mission. I don't even remember what it was anymore, I was so panicked. Everything after that just kept pushing me to the edge…"
The system's glow blinked gently. Then, Nari's delicate voice responded, laced with honest softness.
I'm sorry, Master… but I don't have any recollection of being part of something shady like that. If I had, I would've never allowed it. I promise you.
Dila turned her face slightly to the wall, her voice breaking. "Alright… but I'm still mad," she said, the anger barely hiding the sadness behind it. "I regret coming here so suddenly. I didn't get to say goodbye…"
Her shoulders shook as tears welled in her eyes again. "I still need my mother…"
Her voice cracked.
"I miss her so much."
She leaned to her side slowly, curling into herself as the ache in her chest grew unbearable. Her voice grew smaller, more fragile.
"I'll never find her again… not in this world. It's my fault—I played the game too much. I shut myself in. After my father left, it was just her and me. Then even she left... I ended up in my aunt's basement."
Her tears flowed freely now.
"I hated that life. Going to school… being surrounded by people, yet always left out. I never had friends. I always wore a hoodie—so they wouldn't see me. They didn't even know if I was a boy or girl. No one cared."
A long, bitter silence lingered before she murmured,
"But… I don't mind being here anymore. Even if this world is hell. At least I feel something."
The gentle hum of the system grew brighter.
Then Nari's voice returned, softer than before. No longer robotic—she sounded human. Like someone sitting right beside her, holding her hand.
Master… Dila… my sweet Dila…
I wasn't there for what happened before. But I'm here now. And I hear you. Every word. Every pain. You're not invisible to me. You never were.
Dila shivered as the warmth in Nari's voice wrapped around her like a blanket she didn't know she needed.
You're not broken. You're not weak. You survived everything—even when the world tried to make you disappear. And that… that makes you an incredible person and has a bright future.
Dila covered her face with one hand, silently weeping.
I may just be your system… but if you'll let me, I want to be more than that. I want to be your friend. I want to hover beside you. Laugh with you. Help you carry the weight you've always shouldered alone.
The system light pulsed warmly. Gently. Like a heartbeat.
You've lost so much, Master… but you haven't lost yourself. You're still here. Breathing in this new world. Fighting. And I'll stay with you—for every step, every tear, every moment. You don't have to face this world alone anymore.
Dila gasped softly, her lips trembling as her breath caught in her throat. She let her hand fall from her eyes.
"Nari…" she whispered.
Yes, Master?
"…Thank you."
Anytime, Master. Always. And just so you know... I'm proud of you. So, so proud.
In that quiet hospital room, under the soft glow of system light and surrounded by the scent of old herbs and dried tears, Dila finally let herself breathe.
Not because she was healed.
But because for once—someone was there. And that was enough.
Just as the warmth of Nari's words began to ease the tightness in her chest, a sudden chime echoed from the system. A soft but urgent glow blinked beside her bed.
Master… there's someone coming. You should rest… please, lie down. You're still hurt…
Dila's heart skipped.
Her body tensed.
She didn't move.
Instead of obeying, she sat frozen—her breathing shallow. A small pulse of fear ran up her spine.
"W-What do you mean someone's coming…?" she whispered, glancing nervously toward the heavy curtain draped over the stone doorway.
I don't know who it is yet. But I'm detecting movement. Very slow… very careful…
Dila's elven ears twitched, picking up faint sounds the system hadn't finished processing—slow, deliberate footsteps. Soft. Measured. As if whoever was approaching didn't want to be heard.
But she heard it.
Crrrk…
Crrk…
The sound of boots dragging lightly against uneven stone. Echoing through the old, herb-scented chamber like a whisper of warning.
Crrrk…
She glanced around the room, her heart thudding. The warm lights from earlier now seemed dimmer. Flickering, even.
Nari's voice returned, quieter this time. Almost… concerned.
Master… please… just lie down. You're still recovering. If it's someone dangerous, I'll activate the emergency cascade Shield. But you need to conserve energy…
Dila didn't respond.
She couldn't.
Her mind was racing too fast.
The footsteps had stopped.
Completely.
Right outside the curtain.
Her ears twitched again—no sound now. Nothing. Not even breathing. Only the faint flicker of a torch on the wall… and a cold, crawling silence pressing down on the room.
Then—
Ssssshh…
A soft shuffle.
The curtain moved.
Barely.
Just enough.
Something… or someone… was standing there.
Not entering.
Not speaking.
Just… watching.
Dila's hand instinctively gripped the side of the bed, her knuckles pale beneath the bandages. Her breath caught as her eyes narrowed on the unmoving veil of cloth, her heart now pounding in her throat.
And then—
The torchlight blinked out.
Darkness swallowed half the room.
And from behind the curtain, a voice—low and hoarse—spoke.
"…I've finally found you."