Urano—fourteen years old in that borrowed body—and Evelin, already an adult, sat in the living room with only a small coffee table between them. A heavy silence filled the air, almost thick, almost comical.
Urano avoided looking at her. The woman was wearing nothing but a nightgown, leaving a mature, firm body exposed, still damp from the shower. Droplets slid down her neck and reddish hair, giving her a suggestive glow under the dim light.
Urano was frustrated.He wasn't a twelve-year-old boy.So why the hell was he this nervous?
Was it the synchronization with the character affecting his emotions?Was it the system adapting their personalities to their avatars?He had no idea.
All he knew was that he felt terribly embarrassed.
Evelin noticed his discomfort and couldn't resist teasing him. In the previous story he had been a shameless womanizer, stealing hearts with annoying ease…
And now he was blushing.That shy side was unexpectedly refreshing.
"You know," she said in a playful tone, gently pulling the top of her nightgown aside, "don't you think the night feels a bit… too warm?"
The motion revealed a soft outline of her chest, firm from training.Evelin would never have done something like this in her real body, but this borrowed one made her bold—free.
"C-cover yourself… you'll catch a cold," Urano stammered, eyes flickering helplessly between her exposed skin and her toned legs.
Desperate to escape the moment, he cleared his throat loudly.
"Let's forget this. Back to the main issue."
He pulled out the birthday card he had received earlier. On the cover, a smiling clown.Inside, written in childish, clumsy black ink, were the words:
"THERE CAN ONLY BE ONE BEST FRIEND."
Evelin's expression immediately turned serious.
"What exactly happened?"
"Just… a miscalculation," Urano said, lowering his head in guilt. "This script has multiple versions. Book, draft, movie… and it wasn't written by a single person.The system seems to follow everything ever written: discarded drafts, rejected ideas, concepts that never made it into the final version."
He paused.
"I remember the other author once mentioned an alternate version—when he was drunk—where the toys were jealous. Some kind of possessive horror. It never went beyond a forgotten fragment. I never imagined the system would manifest it here."
"It's not your fault," Evelin said, though her voice trembled slightly. She remembered things from the previous story she still hadn't shared with him. "So, what do we do?"
"We go with Plan C," Urano said. "We seal it. Tomorrow we'll go to the toymaker and—"
But he stopped.
Evelin had stood up and pulled a wooden box from under the table.
A beautifully carved sealing box—CUCU's sealing box.
Urano stared in shock as she opened it, proud and satisfied.
"All set. Anything else?"
"Do you realize how dangerous it was to do that alone?" Urano snapped. "What if something had gone wrong? What if you triggered a version the system couldn't fix? What if—"
Evelin looked away, somewhat irritated.
"But everything worked out," she replied with a tense smile. "Although… yes, it was very different from what I expected."
She told him everything that had happened at the toymaker's shop.
Urano covered his face, exhausted.
"Fine… we can't change it now. Let's review the doll's strengths and weaknesses and make a plan."
"Alright."
Urano grabbed a notebook.
"First: almost indestructible. Bullets, knives, fire—nothing works. Attack it, and it retaliates immediately.
Second: it never moves in front of people. Especially not in front of its owner.
Third: it cannot harm its owner physically.
Fourth: it moves like stop-motion, teleporting within a ten-meter radius if you're not looking at it. Only eye contact stops it."
Evelin frowned.
"So it's physically weak… but intelligent, cruel, indestructible, and nearly impossible to catch."
"Exactly."
She crossed her arms.
"Then how do we seal it?"
Urano hesitated.
"And here comes the tricky part…"