Most creatures are born in the usual way—with hearts that beat and bones that grow. But Mubble was not most creatures. He was born in a flash. A single instant, long ago, when a child looked their parent in the eye and said something so honest, so raw, that the whole room changed when the words were spoken. A hush fell. The truth filled the space like light. And in that flicker of truthfulness—where nothing was hidden and everything was seen—Mubble was blinked into existence. You see, most people in the world rarely say what they think or feel. So, when the child spoke with such honesty, the Spirits who watch over Earth, were so surprised they decided to create a creature who would seek out truth speakers and see, if using their honesty, truth could spread over the world.

Mubble was not made of skin or fur, but of softness and shimmer, ever shifting. One moment, he might look like a balloon drifting sideways. The next, a puddle that rippled upward. No eyes. No mouth. But he saw and felt more than most ever would. Mubble had a purpose. He wandered the world, floating between towns and cities, slipping silently through windows, into hallways and alleyways—searching. Not for treasure or fame. But for places where people kept everything locked inside. Places where thoughts never left the mind, where smiles hid sadness, and silence covered storms. When he found a place like that, Mubble would wait. Watching. Listening. And always hoping to find one person — just one—who was brave or lonely or curious enough to speak a true thought aloud. That was all it took. One real sentence, born straight from the heart.

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