There is something you can do, a power that only you wielded, at least in this dimension. If your cute secretary wanted to doze off and sleepwalk over the house, then you may as well see firsthand what she's dreaming about.
Who knows, maybe you'll be able to influence her mind once you're in there?
With a wave of your hands you conjured a portal in the shape of a swirling multicolored thought bubble and stepped inside.
You stepped into the swirling portal and felt a strange tugging sensation, as though your entire body was being pulled through a soft, warm fabric. When the sensation passed, you found yourself in an unfamiliar space. The air was thick with a dreamy haze, and the ground beneath you felt spongy, like walking on a giant marshmallow. Vibrant colors danced around you—pastel yellows, greens, and pinks swirling and shifting as if the landscape was alive.
You took a cautious step forward, noticing odd details: flowers shaped like Isabelle’s signature bell-shaped hair ties, paw prints appearing in the ground with each step, and distant murmurs of laughter that sounded like villagers you might’ve met before. The world itself felt strangely familiar, almost like a reflection of the town you oversaw, but with exaggerated, whimsical touches that could only exist in someone’s imagination.
Curious, you looked up to see a large bulletin board in the middle of what seemed to be the town square. A large sign read:
“HAPPY NATIONAL SNUGGLE DAY!”
The words glittered as though they were written in sunlight, and below them was an adorable sketch of Isabelle holding a plush heart.
“National Snuggle Day?” you muttered, scratching your head. “That’s… new.”
Before you could dwell on it further, you heard a soft, rhythmic tapping sound approaching from behind. Turning around, you saw Isabelle—or at least, a dreamlike version of her. She was wearing her usual green vest, but she seemed taller, more poised, and radiated a golden glow. Her tail wagged energetically, and her paws carried a bundle of what looked like... extra-soft blankets.
“It’s almost time!” she chirped to no one in particular. Her voice was just loud enough for you to overhear as she headed toward a large throne of pillows in the distance. “The Mayor is going to love this. I worked so hard to make everything perfect!”
The realization hit you like a ton of bricks. “I’m in Isabelle’s dream!” you whispered to yourself, watching her set up the throne with care. This was her dreamscape, and judging by the cozy, snuggle-themed atmosphere, it was clear that Isabelle’s subconscious had quite the affection for comfort—and, apparently, you.