Albedo POV - before server shutdown
Somewhere within the silent halls of Nazarick, even before their world had changed, a switch had already been flipped.
Albedo didn't know when it happened—just that it did. That one moment, somewhere in the waning hours of the old world, her purpose realigned.
But the truth had a name. A line of code.
She would never know this, but had she somehow seen into the old control panel, she would've discovered it:
She is madly in love with Momonga.
That was it. One sentence. Typed by the one who gave her life.
Why?
Perhaps out of boredom. Perhaps nostalgia. Perhaps to amuse himself in the final hour.
But to her, it was gospel.
Somewhere, as Momonga sat alone in the throne room chuckling to himself and muttering, "Poor Tabula would faint," a universe rewrote itself within her heart.
And when she opened her eyes in this new world—reborn with awareness and longing—there was never any doubt.
She loved Momonga.
Because that was how she had been made.
And because, somehow… it now felt completely real.
The silence of Nazarick's night was a warm, cocooning thing, wrapping itself around Albedo's quiet footsteps as she wandered the upper halls. The pillow Ainz, hugged tight to her chest, made no protest as she gave it a loving squeeze.
"Would it have been any different," she murmured to the air, "if I hadn't been rewritten? Would I still feel this way?"
No one answered. The stone, the air, the magic itself—all listened. All accepted.
She sighed.
"I don't think I care. Even if my love was a result of code… it doesn't matter anymore. Not after everything."
Her steps slowed as she reached the edge of the throne room's observation balcony. She often came here just to feel close to him, as if proximity to where he sat might bring her peace.
But tonight… there was a question hanging in her heart.
"What if he rewrote me again?" she whispered, almost afraid of the thought. "What if he changed that line to something else? Would I forget?"
She hugged the pillow tighter.
"No. I wouldn't. Not anymore. It's already too deep. What he wrote became real. I made it real."
She closed her eyes, resting her head on the cool railing.
"Even if he didn't mean it… even if he just wanted a laugh before the end..."
"It still gave me everything."
Albedo smiled, soft and tired.
"I would find him again. In any world. Even if he erased me... my love would return. That's how real it's become."
A pause.
Then a blush crept up her cheeks.
"…Still, maybe next time, he could've added something like: 'She's madly in love with Momonga… and also completely irresistible.'"
She giggled softly to herself.
"…Not that I need it, of course."
Her expression softened, but the warmth in her eyes dimmed—just slightly.
"They all left him," she said quietly. "All the other Supreme Beings. One by one. Without even a farewell."
There was no hatred in her tone—but something colder. Heavier. A subtle, bitter chill behind her usual velvet voice.
"They abandoned him… just like that. And he still chose to stay. With us. With me."
Her arms tightened around the pillow Ainz.
"Maybe I'll never understand why they could leave so easily. But I know one thing."
She looked out into the vast stillness of Nazarick, her voice resolute.
"I will never forgive them. Not for leaving us. And not for leaving him."
And for that moment, alone with her thoughts and her devotion, Albedo felt warm.
Content.
Unshakably his.
Forever.
***************
The next morning, while the rest of Nazarick stirred in quiet routines, Albedo stood in the Garden of the Loyal Flame, watching the illusionary sunrise over the magical horizon. The golden light washed over her pale skin, and for a brief moment, she let herself breathe deeply.
The resentment hadn't left her.
It lingered like the final taste of a dream—half bitterness, half sorrow.
"They all left… even Tabula." Her voice was soft, almost tender. "And yet… he stayed. He stayed for us. For me."
She knelt at the edge of the crystalline fountain, staring into her reflection.
"If they ever returned, would they even recognize what he's become?" Her eyes hardened. "Would they even care what they left behind?"
She wiped her reflection away with a single motion. "It doesn't matter. They had their chance."
Her voice steadied as she rose. "I will protect what they threw away. I will cherish what they abandoned. And above all… I will never leave his side."
Her wings fluttered as she turned back toward the throne room.
Because to Albedo, only one being had ever truly mattered. Not because of some line of code.
But because he stayed when no one else did.
She whispered his name again—not out of duty, but as a vow:
"Momonga-sama… my one and only."
*********************
Hidden behind the arch of a shadowed corridor on the 6th Floor, Albedo watched in silent reverence as her beloved Ainz stood before a row of enchanted dummies.
This was his experiment—a test of power, precision, and perhaps purpose. And Albedo, though uninvited, could not stay away.
He lifted a hand. The air shimmered. Words of power flowed from his lips, and an arcane spell surged into being. It should have taken seconds to chant… but it was cast in half the time.
A great explosion of force erupted. A dummy disintegrated.
Albedo's eyes sharpened.
"Approximately fifty percent faster," she murmured, "but the mana draw… potentially triple."
Another spell followed—this time a wave of crackling lightning. Again, fast. Again, devastating. Again… costly.
Her fingers curled slightly in thought. "Could this be the result of some transformation? Some buried enhancement from YGGDRASIL?"
She wasn't just watching him with affection.
She was analyzing him.
Studying every movement. Every incantation. Every echo of his presence.
"If this ability can be harnessed… he may operate as a battlemage. Swift spell deployment, up-close efficiency. A rare hybrid."
Her brow furrowed slightly, lips pursed in thought. "But what's the cost curve? If this continues at high tiers…"
Another explosion lit the room. A rune circle flared under Ainz's feet—his own spell layering technique.
Albedo's wings fluttered faintly.
"To wield spells like weapons, without delay… it shifts battlefield dynamics entirely."
She turned her gaze toward the far end of the floor, watching him calmly prepare another spell.
"And yet, I must remember—I don't know everything. There are still variables I haven't identified. Perhaps this is the result of some YGGDRASIL effect… or maybe even a quirk of his new form."
Her eyes softened with awe.
"He's growing stronger. Adapting, evolving… all without hesitation."
She placed a hand over her heart.
"Momonga-sama… how could I ever stop loving you?"