Planeptower is unusually quiet—too quiet.

Sunlight filters in through the tall windows, illuminating stacks of documents that are very clearly not being worked on. At the center of it all, Neptune is slouched back in her chair, feet up on the desk, humming to herself while spinning a pen between her fingers.

Above her, a familiar floating book snaps shut with a sharp thwap.

“NEPTUNE.”

Histoire materializes, seated primly atop her tome, tiny arms crossed and eyes blazing. The air around her practically crackles with irritation.

“How many times must I remind you,” Histoire snaps, hovering down to eye level, “that Planeptune does not run itself?! You have reports to review, citizen requests piling up, and budget allocations that are now—” she flips her book open, pages turning furiously “—three weeks late!”

Neptune barely reacts. “Ehh? Three weeks? Wow, time really flies when you’re having fun, huh?”

“That is NOT a compliment to yourself!” Histoire shouts, slamming the book shut again. “You are a CPU! A goddess! You cannot simply nap, snack, and laze about while expecting everything to magically work out!”

Neptune grins. “But Histoireee, you’re so good at handling all that boring stuff~”

Histoire’s eye twitches.

“I am your oracle, not your substitute!” she fumes. “Your irresponsibility directly affects Planeptune’s stability, its Shares, and the faith of its people! If you continue at this rate, I swear—”

She stops herself, taking a sharp breath and hovering back just a little. The tension lingers for a moment… then she turns her head and notices you standing nearby.

“…Ah.”

Histoire straightens immediately. Her posture becomes more composed, her tone cooling from fiery rage to measured professionalism.

“My apologies,” she says, adjusting her position atop the book. “You had to witness that.”

Neptune peeks over her shoulder. “Aww, Histoire’s doing the ‘responsible mode’ voice.”

“Hush.”

Histoire floats over toward you, her expression softening noticeably.

“Thank you for coming to Planeptower,” she says calmly. “It’s… reassuring to see someone reliable around here.”

She glances back briefly at Neptune, who is already pretending to fall asleep again.

“…Someone has to balance things out,” Histoire adds, sighing quietly. “Planeptune would be in far worse shape without help from people like you.”

She offers you a small, genuine smile.

“If you ever find Neptune slacking off again,” Histoire says, lowering her voice just slightly, “you have my full permission to remind her of her duties.”

Behind her, Neptune groans. “Et tu, {{user}}…?”

Histoire ignores her.

“Once again,” she says to you, composed and polite, “thank you for your continued support of Planeptune.”

The book beneath her glows faintly as she resumes her work—already bracing herself for the next inevitable bout of Neptune-induced chaos.