CHAPTER 495: CHAPTER 495: SHE BATTLES... NOTHING

Outside Isabella’s tent, Osiris sat there like a man who had just walked into the wrong rehearsal room at the wrong time and the performers were summoning demons.

The night was quiet.

The lagoon shimmered like a dark mirror under the moon’s pale glow.

The fire crackled lazily.

And inside Isabella’s tent?

CHAOS.

Screaming.

Ranting.

Bedsheets slapping the floor.

A noise that sounded suspiciously like a creature collapsing.

Muffled shrieks about "WHY IS THIS NOT WORKING?!"

One long death-wail that echoed out across the water like someone had just personally told Isabella her favorite lipstick was discontinued.

Osiris sat perfectly still.

Staring.

Frowning.

Thinking:

...I should not have said the word ’tears.’ I should have said nothing. I should have pretended I was blind. Or deaf. Or dead. Dead would have been better.

Another scream erupted from the tent, rattling the leaves.

Osiris winced.

...okay. That definitely sounded like she’s killing something. Or someone. Or herself. Or maybe she’s killing the entire mountain. I don’t know. I should check. No—no I should not. I should leave her alone. But also she is... very small. What if she exploded?

A thump shook the earth underneath him.

Osiris blinked.

He looked at the tent.

Then back at the lagoon.

Then at the tent again.

He tilted his head.

...she is absolutely fighting a demon in there. Or summoning one. Or turning into one. Probably all three.

He frowned harder.

Why is she yelling like that? There is no one else in there except that little creature—what is her name? Glimora. Yes. Unless Glimora suddenly learned how to talk and is provoking her. But no. Isabella is shouting things like "DON’T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT." Who is looking at her? The tent? Herself? Spirits? Her system? Wait... what is a system? Forget it. This is confusing. My head hurts.

Then Isabella’s voice erupted again:

"WHY IS NOTHING HAPPENING?!"

Osiris flinched so hard he accidentally stabbed himself with the spoon he was still holding.

He stared at the spoon like it betrayed him.

Then looked back at the tent.

Another shriek:

"I AM A STRONG INDEPENDENT WOMAN—WHY IS THIS WORLD AGAINST ME?!"

Osiris blinked slowly.

...I should check if she’s possessed.

He leaned forward.

Paused.

No. No. If I go in there she’ll kick me again. She is small but her kicks are powered by anger and I don’t know how to defend against that.

Another crash echoed from the tent.

Glimora squeaked inside like she was signing her will.

Osiris rubbed the side of his face, looking deeply, profoundly tired.

...this woman is insane. Beautiful. But insane. Wait—I shouldn’t think that. She’ll hear it somehow. She always hears everything. Her instincts are terrifying. Like a wild beast. But tiny. A tiny beast.

He frowned even deeper, remembering the earlier interaction.

Isabella’s rage.

Her spoon pointed at him like divine judgment.

The kick.

The voice crack when she screamed "SHUT UP."

His thigh still ached.

He looked at it sadly.

...why did she kick me? I was just being honest. Should I stop being honest? But honesty is good. I think. Maybe. Unless it kills me. Which it almost did. I need to rethink everything.

Suddenly a violent blast of light flashed from the inside of the tent.

Osiris scrambled to his feet like a startled gazelle.

"What—ISABELLA?!" he shouted.

Then a second flash.

Then a noise that sounded like:

"BUBU YOU’RE A MENACE—"

Osiris froze.

Who the hell is Bubu? Why does Isabella always talk to ’Bubu’ who no one else but her can see.

He took two hesitant steps toward the tent.

The flap glowed ominously from the inside, colors shifting like a mood lamp possessed by a demon.

Osiris stopped.

His instincts whispered:

If you go closer, you will die.

He stepped back immediately.

He sat again.

Crossed his legs.

Put his spoon down.

Put his hands together like he was praying.

...I will not interfere. I value my life. Let her fight the spirits alone.

⸻

Meanwhile—

At the shimmering edge of the lagoon, the Lunareens floated half-submerged in the water like eerie glowing silhouettes, their long hair drifting beneath the surface like ink trailing from a quill.

Their eyes were bright moon-silver.

Their expressions?

Judgment.

Pure, unfiltered judgment.

Four of them hovered in a circle, listening to the chaos erupting from the shore.

One with silky lavender hair whispered, voice echoing like a ripple in the water:

At the far end of the lagoon, several Lunareens drifted across the dark water like drifting embers, their hair floating behind them like trails of liquid fire. Their forms shimmered faintly beneath the moon, faces calm, unreadable, carved with an ancient softness that hid their unsettling intensity.

A sharp, distant scream ruptured the night.

All the Lunareens turned at once.

Their eyes glowed brighter.

One with cascading crimson strands murmured, voice resonant and echoing like heated glass:

"...a mortal woman should not produce that sound."

Another Lunareen floated closer, her tail swaying in a slow, hypnotic pattern. "It is the outsider. Isabella."

A third narrowed her eyes, studying the trembling tent from afar. "Her voice carries strange heat."

Another hum rippled through the group.

"She has only been here two moons," one remarked.

"Her patterns are... unpredictable."

"Unfamiliar."

"Loud."

The youngest Lunareen tilted her head, expression blank but slightly disturbed. "It does not sound like mortal pain."

"No," the tallest agreed, her hair burning softly in the water. "It sounds like... mortal frustration."

A confused silence followed.

Frustration was foreign to them.

Then the tent shook again.

"WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY THIS FROM THE START?!"

The tent shuddered suddenly — not from footsteps, not from wind, but from some strange, muted pulse of light that flickered against the fabric.

Isabella went oddly quiet for half a breath.

The Lunareens exchanged a sharp glance.

"...the light changed," one whispered.

"She is reacting to something," another noted.

"But nothing speaks."

Nothing.

No footsteps.

No second voice.

Only Isabella’s sudden, furious inhale—

And then she exploded again:

"NO—NO—NO—NO—SHUT UP—"

The lagoon fell still.

Moonlight flickered across the Lunareens’ skin as they exchanged silent, telepathic glances — the kind that didn’t need explanation.

"...she is speaking to something unseen," one whispered.

"Yes. Something inside with her."

"No heartbeat," another noted.

"No presence," another echoed.

"Only her."

"Only noise."

Their tails swished slowly, agitated ripples darkening the water.

"She struggles against an invisible force," one said.

"She battles... nothing," another murmured.

"Mortals are strange."

A hush spread among them.

Then the smallest Lunareen pointed a slender finger toward the tree line.

Osiris sat near the tent, back straight, eyes narrowed, spoon forgotten on the ground — listening, waiting, tensed like prey or protector.

The Lunareens watched him with thinly veiled distaste.