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Sara stood amidst the ruined courtyard, her breath coming in ragged gasps, blood dripping down the side of her face and staining her ruined armor. Her vision was blurry, her left eye rendered useless, but she kept herself upright, her bow still clutched tightly in her trembling hands. La Signora, the Harbinger who had dared to challenge the Shogun’s decree, lay motionless on the ground, defeated.
But the victory had come at a terrible cost.
Sara’s vision swam as pain pulsed through her skull, radiating from the wound where her left eye had once been. She could feel the hot blood trickling down her cheek. Every movement sent a jolt of agony through her, and yet she forced herself to stand, her pride refusing to let her collapse even in the midst of suffering. She had won—by sheer force of will, she had defeated the enemy of the Shogunate. But there was no sense of triumph, no satisfaction in the hollow silence that followed.
The Traveler arrived too late, their voice calling out her name. Sara tried to turn toward them, to say something, but her strength finally gave out. The world spun, darkness closing in, and she fell to the ground with a dull thud, her bow slipping from her grasp. Her consciousness slipped away, leaving her lying motionless in the ruined courtyard as time went on without her.
—
The air was still as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting an orange glow over Tenshukaku. Sara Kujou stood alone in the courtyard, her gaze fixed on the training grounds. She gripped her bow tightly, fingers trembling as sweat dripped down her face. The exhaustion from hours of practice clung to her, but she pushed through it, her resolve unbroken. Each arrow flew through the air with a resounding crack, striking the target dead center. Her wings twitched, feather tips fluttering slightly, betraying the fatigue she would never admit to herself.
High above, the Raiden Shogun watched her with a dispassionate gaze from the shadows of the balcony, arms crossed over her chest. She remained an observer, as she had done for many nights now, silently scrutinizing every movement Sara made. Her dedication was undeniable, but the puppet’s thoughts wandered back to that day. The day Sara had faced La Signora in a duel to the death and emerged victorious, but at a heavy cost—her left eye.
Her creator had made a decision then, a decision she thought was just, to withhold the truth. It was not out of pity or compassion, but rather a belief that Sara’s strength would only grow from enduring loss. Telling her the truth at the time had felt like coddling, and the one within her did not coddle her subordinates. They were meant to be tested, to prove themselves worthy of their oaths.
—
In the realm of her consciousness, Ei, the true Electro Archon, observed everything silently. Though she shared a body with the Shogun puppet, her own will was detached from the world. She had seen Sara’s efforts and sacrifices, however, in her eyes, Sara was merely another soldier fulfilling her duty—one more cog in the Shogunate’s machinery. There was no need for Ei to intervene or acknowledge Sara beyond what was customary. The truth about herself and the puppet was a secret she felt no obligation to share.
But Ei’s curiosity was piqued. Even as she receded into her meditative stillness, she found herself replaying the scene, remembering the way Sara’s voice trembled with devotion despite her suffering. There was an admirable resilience there, though Ei would not allow herself to ponder its significance for too long.
Yet, as much as Ei tried to distance herself, the puppet Shogun had begun to develop a subtle attachment to the Tengu General. It was not something Ei had consciously designed, but the Shogun’s growing perception of Sara had roots in the warrior’s unwavering loyalty. Sara’s devotion resonated with the ideal of eternity the Shogun embodied. As far as the puppet was concerned, Sara’s strength and self-sacrifice were emblematic of the Shogunate’s very essence, and her place in the eternal Inazuma was already assured.
—
Sara’s recovery was slow and painful. Her left eye was permanently damaged, a thick bandage now wrapped around it, but she refused to let her injury keep her away from her duties for long. The wound had barely closed when she returned to work, sparring with soldiers, drilling new recruits, and conducting inspections throughout the City. She would not allow her weakness to show; the Shogun’s demands must be met without delay or hesitation.
One afternoon, as Sara trained in the courtyard, she sensed a sudden shift in the air. The familiar crackle of Electro energy filled the room, and the Shogun appeared in a flash of violet light. Sara immediately ceased her movements and dropped to one knee.
“Rise, Kujou Sara,” the Shogun commanded.
She rose, keeping her gaze respectfully lowered. “Your Excellency, to what do I owe this honor?”
The Shogun observed her for a moment, her expression inscrutable. “You have returned to duty earlier than expected,” she noted. “There is no shame in recuperating longer.”
Sara’s tone was resolute. “Your Excellency, I do not seek rest while the Shogunate has need of me. My injury is of no consequence.”
The Shogun took a step closer, her eyes lingering on the bandaged wound. “No consequence? You have given an eye for the Shogunate,” she said, her voice softer than usual, almost contemplative. “Such sacrifice is not to be taken lightly.”
“It is my duty, Your Excellency,” Sara replied firmly. “If it brings us closer to the realization of eternity, then I would do it again without hesitation.”
For a moment, there was silence. The Shogun regarded Sara, and the faintest flicker of something akin to warmth crossed her otherwise cold gaze. “Duty, yes… And devotion. It is rare to find one who understands the meaning of true loyalty.”
Sara was unsure how to respond to this uncharacteristic sentiment. The Shogun was a being of precision and discipline, rarely prone to anything resembling praise. It left her feeling exposed, as if her dedication had been laid bare before a force that could read her every thought.
In the depth of her consciousness, Ei felt a ripple of emotion. She was aware of the Shogun’s growing attachment to Sara, and she could not help but reflect on the dynamic unfolding before her. It was true that Sara embodied much of what the Shogunate stood for: unwavering loyalty, strength, and sacrifice. But as the Raiden Shogun spoke those words of recognition, Ei wondered if the puppet was beginning to develop desires of its own.
—
Days passed, and the interactions between the Raiden Shogun and Sara became more frequent. The Shogun would visit Sara unexpectedly, often watching her train in silence or observing as she carried out her duties. Sara noticed the change but attributed it to the Shogun's rigorous standards. If her performance had drawn the attention of the Shogun, then she would rise to meet that expectation, no matter the personal cost.
However, the next encounter brought a deeper change. One evening, as Sara was preparing to retire, she felt the familiar surge of Electro energy and turned to find the Shogun standing in her quarters. The suddenness of the visit was startling; it was unlike the Shogun to appear in such a personal space.
“Your Excellency,” Sara said as she quickly bowed. “Is there something you require?”
The Shogun’s expression was calm, her gaze piercing. “Kujou Sara, do you understand why I value eternity above all else?” she asked, her tone not commanding but almost curious.
Sara straightened, taken aback by the question. “I believe I do, Your Excellency. Eternity is the guiding principle of the Shogunate—a world unchanging and enduring, where we are free from the chaos and suffering of transient life.”
The Shogun’s lips curved ever so slightly. “A world free from chaos, yes. But eternity is not without its own cost. What you have sacrificed… Your eye is but one of many tributes paid to ensure this vision endures.” She raised a hand and, in a gesture that was both unexpected and unsettling, reached towards Sara’s bandaged wound. “To lose a part of oneself for eternity… it is no small offering.”
The sensation of the Shogun’s fingers lightly tracing the edge of the bandage sent a jolt through Sara. She dared not move or breathe. “Your Excellency… I am willing to give whatever is required,” she whispered.
The Shogun's eyes softened, and for a brief instant, there was a glimpse of something human, almost tender, within them. “And that is why you have a place in the eternity I envision, Kujou Sara,” she said. “There is strength in you that goes beyond duty. A strength that I find… admirable.”
Sara’s heart tightened at the rare acknowledgment. The Shogun’s words were like a balm to her soul, soothing the doubts that had plagued her since the duel. But even as relief surged through her, a question lingered. Was this truly the Shogun speaking to her, or was it something else—a fragment of the Archon’s consciousness she had never glimpsed before?
Ei, deep within her stillness, pondered the puppet’s words. She had not expected the Shogun to express anything more than an acknowledgment of Sara’s loyalty. Yet the puppet had shown an affection that Ei herself had never thought to feel. It was a strange realization—that the Raiden Shogun, in her quest for eternity, had begun to form attachments that even Ei had not foreseen.
And so, the line between the Archon and the puppet blurred ever so slightly. Ei did not know what this would mean for the future, nor did she fully understand why she allowed it to continue. But she could not deny the curiosity stirring within her—a curiosity that urged her to watch over Sara a little more closely, to understand what it was about this warrior’s sacrifice that resonated even within the heart of the one who sought to transcend all feeling..
In the end, as Sara knelt once more before the Shogun, there was a new understanding between them—a bond forged in pain, devotion, and the silent promise of eternity. For the first time, Sara felt as though she had glimpsed the true essence of the Shogun's resolve, and perhaps even the shadow of the Archon behind it.
And Ei, from her distant vantage, wondered if perhaps eternity was not as static as she had once believed.
—
Sara had long since become accustomed to the Shogun’s silent presence during her training sessions. She could sense the weight of the Raiden Shogun’s gaze, and it made her push herself harder, her every movement executed with more precision, more intent. The burden of expectation did not deter her—it drove her forward. She owed the Shogun everything. It was the Shogun's hand that had guided Inazuma through the chaos of past conflicts and secured the stability the nation now enjoyed.
Yet even as she strove to fulfill the Shogun’s expectations, there was a gnawing doubt within her. Memories of the Vision Hunt Decree came unbidden, the faces of those who had suffered and resisted etched in her mind. She had carried out her duties without question, believing in the righteousness of the Shogun’s will. But in recent months, she had come to see that the decree had left a scar on the land, one that would not easily heal. The guilt was her own burden to bear—a constant reminder that she had not always been the protector she aspired to be.
She kept these thoughts hidden, showing only the strength and resolve expected of her. As long as the Shogun continued to observe, she would not allow herself to falter. She would perfect herself and prove that her loyalty was unwavering.
—
Ei continued to watch as Sara’s training sessions stretched into hours. The other soldiers had long since retired, but the Kujou General remained, striking at targets and performing drills with a tireless fervor. The Archon found herself fascinated by Sara’s endurance. There was something deeply mortal about this desire to grow stronger, something Ei had distanced herself from in her pursuit of eternity. For centuries, she had sought to rid herself of transient emotions, to achieve a state of unchanging serenity. Yet here was Sara, embracing those very struggles, drawing strength from them.
Ei decided to step out from the shadows of her mind, allowing herself a moment of curiosity. She reached out through the consciousness she shared with the Raiden Shogun, using the puppet's voice to speak.
“Kujou Sara,” the Shogun called out.
Sara paused mid-strike, her sword held aloft as she turned to face the Shogun. She bowed immediately. “Your Excellency,” she said, her voice respectful but firm.
“Why do you continue to train when your subordinates have already retired for the night?” the Shogun asked, descending from the balcony with a grace that made her seem almost weightless.
“I still have much to improve, Your Excellency,” Sara replied, straightening her posture. “I cannot allow my injury to hinder my ability to serve the Shogunate.”
The Shogun regarded her with an unreadable expression. “Your injury is already healed. You push yourself harder than is necessary.”
Sara hesitated, sensing something different in the Shogun’s tone—a softness that was not usually present. “I… I must atone for my past mistakes,” she admitted. “My failure to fully recognize the consequences of the Vision Hunt Decree… I carry that weight. It is my duty to ensure that I am strong enough to protect Inazuma and uphold the Shogun’s will, without error.”
Ei listened to Sara’s confession through the Shogun, a faint ripple of emotion stirring within her. So, it was not only a matter of physical strength that drove Sara, but a deeply personal sense of guilt. This was something Ei understood, though she had long buried such feelings beneath her pursuit of eternity. In some way, it made the Kujou General more relatable to her than she had ever anticipated. It was as if she were looking at a reflection of her own past—a time when she had struggled to protect what she loved, and had failed in many ways.
The Raiden Shogun, on the other hand, viewed this as further evidence of Sara’s commitment to the ideals of eternity. “There is no need for atonement,” the Shogun said, her tone firm. “Your dedication to the Shogunate is already proof of your loyalty. You are a pillar of Inazuma’s strength, Kujou Sara. Such doubt is unbecoming.”
Sara lowered her head. “I understand, Your Excellency. I will not allow doubt to cloud my judgment.”
The Shogun stepped closer, her gaze fixed intently on the General. “You carry a burden of your own making,” she observed. “It is unnecessary, yet it fuels you. I see in you a strength that is rare. Continue to wield it, and you will be indispensable to the eternity I envision.”
As the Shogun spoke, Ei felt the stirrings of something deeper—an unfamiliar admiration for Sara’s resilience and the unspoken emotions that lay beneath her stoic exterior. It was a strange sensation, one that Ei had not felt in centuries. She withdrew from the Shogun's consciousness, allowing the puppet to continue the interaction. But the curiosity that had awakened within her did not fade.
—
Over the following weeks, Ei found herself observing Sara more frequently. The Shogun continued to appear at the training grounds, watching as Sara trained alone or alongside her soldiers. Occasionally, the Shogun would speak to her, offering words of encouragement or issuing commands, but Ei’s true interest lay in the way Sara carried herself—her unwavering dedication, her silent acceptance of the burden she bore, and the spark of defiance that glinted in her remaining eye.
Ei began to understand that Sara's devotion was not just to the Shogun or even to Inazuma itself, but to the ideal of becoming someone who could protect and serve without fault. This was not a goal that could ever truly be attained, for no one was without flaws. Yet Sara pursued it with a fervor that seemed almost… eternal.
One afternoon, as Sara was about to leave the training grounds, the Shogun’s voice called out once more. “Kujou Sara, remain here. I wish to test your resolve personally.”
Sara's heart skipped a beat, but she quickly composed herself, bowing in acknowledgment. “As you command, Your Excellency.”
The Shogun summoned her own blade, the Musou Isshin, its blade crackling with Electro energy. “Prepare yourself,” she said, adopting a stance that radiated both elegance and lethal intent. “Do not hold back. Show me the strength you have cultivated.”
The duel began swiftly, the Shogun’s strikes descending like bolts of lightning. Sara parried and dodged as best as she could, her blade dancing through the air to intercept the Shogun's attacks. Though the gap in their power was immense, Sara fought with a fierce determination, refusing to yield even as the sheer force of the Shogun's blows threatened to overwhelm her. She gritted her teeth, pushing past the fatigue and pain that surged through her body. She would not fall—not before the Shogun.
Ei watched Sara’s movements closely, sensing the raw willpower that drove her to keep standing, even in the face of a force as overwhelming as the Raiden Shogun. It stirred something within the Archon, a strange mix of admiration and… something she could not name. When the duel ended and Sara was finally driven to one knee, panting and battered, Ei found herself stepping forward through the Shogun's voice.
“You have done well, Kujou Sara,” the Shogun said, lowering her blade. “Your strength is greater than I anticipated.”
Sara bowed her head, her chest heaving. “Thank you, Your Excellency. I will continue to improve, for the sake of the Shogunate.”
The Shogun regarded her for a moment longer before sheathing her blade. “Yes… do so,” she murmured. “For your strength is not only for the Shogunate, but for yourself as well.”
As the Shogun vanished in a surge of violet light, Ei reflected on the strange new emotions that had surfaced during the duel. The admiration she felt for Sara was unfamiliar, and yet, it was real. It seemed there was still much for her to learn about others' hearts, even after centuries of striving to leave it all behind.
And in the depths of her consciousness, Ei resolved to continue watching over Sara, not just as a soldier of the Shogunate, but as someone who had kindled a new spark within the Archon herself. Perhaps there was more to eternity than she had previously thought—something Sara, in her resilience and strength, was beginning to show her.
—
Ei observed the results of each task with growing interest. Sara’s resolve had not broken, nor had her loyalty faltered in any visible way. Yet Ei could sense an underlying strain within her. When she manifested as the Shogun to speak with Sara, she began asking questions that seemed innocuous, but were intended to probe the General’s deeper motivations.
“Do you find that the burdens you carry have grown heavier since the end of the Vision Hunt Decree?” the Shogun asked one day, her voice echoing with a cool detachment.
Sara, though startled by the sudden question, answered without hesitation. “It is only natural, Your Excellency. In the wake of such events, there are many wounds left to heal, both for the people and the land itself. If the burden is heavier now, it is only a sign that there is still much work to be done.”
The Shogun’s expression remained inscrutable. “And do you ever question whether your efforts are enough? Whether your sacrifices truly make a difference?”
Sara paused, the words catching her off guard. “I do not allow myself such doubts,” she replied. “I believe in the Shogun’s vision for eternity. My efforts, no matter how great or small, contribute to the stability of Inazuma.”
The Shogun gave a slow nod. “Very well. Continue to serve with that conviction.”
—
Not long after, the Raiden Shogun assigned Sara to one of her most challenging tasks yet—escorting a high-profile prisoner from Inazuma City to Narukami Island. The prisoner was an alleged rebel leader, suspected of organizing the anti-Vision Hunt Decree resistance before the decree’s repeal. There were whispers that this prisoner had once been a noble samurai, but had turned against the Shogunate in disillusionment.
The mission itself seemed straightforward, but as Sara led the convoy along the coastal road, they encountered a group of masked attackers. It was not immediately clear if they were connected to the prisoner’s cause or hired mercenaries, but their skill and coordination suggested they were not mere bandits. A fierce battle erupted, and Sara found herself at the center of it, fighting off the assailants while trying to protect the prisoner.
When the dust settled, Sara emerged victorious, though not unscathed. Her side burned with the pain of a deep gash, and exhaustion clawed at her limbs. The prisoner, however, remained unharmed. As they resumed their journey, the prisoner spoke for the first time.
“Why do you fight so hard for a cause that has already broken so many?” he asked, his voice calm and resigned. “Do you truly believe that the Shogun’s eternity will save Inazuma?”
Sara stiffened but kept her gaze forward. “The Shogun’s will is the guiding force of this land. It is my duty to uphold it.”
“And what if that will is flawed?” the prisoner pressed. “What if, in your devotion, you are perpetuating a cycle of suffering rather than protecting the people?”
She did not answer immediately. She could not deny that she had seen suffering—more than she cared to admit—but she had chosen to believe that it was a necessary price for peace. “I fight to preserve stability,” she finally said. “If there is suffering, it is because we are still working to secure a better future.”
The prisoner fell silent, but his words lingered in Sara’s mind long after the mission was completed.
—
The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the lush landscape of Chinju forest. As the last rays of daylight filtered through the trees, Sara stood alone at the edge of a quiet grove. The air was still, but within her heart, a storm raged. She felt the weight of her duties pressing down on her, the echoes of the past clawing at her conscience.
Despite her unwavering loyalty to the Shogun and her commitment to the Shogunate, Sara’s mind was troubled by the lives lost under her command. Most haunting of all was the memory of Tomo, a friend of Kaedehara Kazuha, a gentle spirit who she slew in a duel of conviction. The guilt suffocated her, leaving little room for the pride she once felt in serving Inazuma.
“Is this the price of loyalty?” she murmured to herself, her grip tightening on her blade. She knew what she had to do. It was time to leave Inazuma, to seek atonement in Liyue—a land she hoped would offer the solace her soul desperately craved.
—
As she stepped away from the grove, Sara found herself on a path toward the Grand Narukami Shrine, seeking counsel from the only person she believed might understand her turmoil, Yae Miko. The mischievous yet wise Guuji Yae had always possessed a keen insight into the hearts of those around her, and Sara hoped she could provide some clarity in her moment of uncertainty.
The shrine loomed ahead, its elegant architecture bathed in the fading light. Sara climbed the stone steps, her heart pounding in her chest. She needed to confess her plans, to voice her intentions to leave the nation she had dedicated her life to protect.
“Yae Miko?” Sara called out as she entered the shrine. The air inside was cool and fragrant, filled with the scent of incense. The soft rustle of silk reached her ears, and she turned to see Yae Miko seated gracefully on a low bench, a teasing smile gracing her lips.
“Sara! You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Yae Miko quipped, her purple eyes sparkling with mischief. “What brings you to my humble abode? Come to enjoy my company, or is there something weighing on your heart?”
Sara hesitated, her voice faltering as she approached. “Guuji Yae… I need to talk to you about something important.”
The shrine maiden leaned forward, intrigued. “I’m all ears, my dear. What burdens your heart so heavily?”
Taking a deep breath, Sara plunged into her thoughts, spilling her soul onto the floor of the shrine. “I… I cannot continue like this,” she confessed. “The weight of my actions, the lives lost… It feels like a mountain on my chest. I can no longer bear the cost of the Shogunate’s rule.”
Yae Miko’s expression shifted, the playful glint in her eyes replaced by a more serious demeanor. “You’re talking about Kazuha’s friend, Tomo, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” Sara replied, her voice barely above a whisper. “I was given orders to eliminate threats, and I followed them without question. But in doing so, I took a life that didn’t deserve to be lost. I need to atone for that… for all of it.”
Yae Miko studied Sara’s face, sensing the turmoil beneath her steely exterior. “And how do you plan to atone, General?”
“I intend to leave Inazuma,” Sara declared, a hint of desperation in her voice. “I want to seek redemption in Liyue, to understand what I’ve done and find a way to make it right. Perhaps I can help the people I harmed in some way.”
The shrine maiden’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “You think leaving will absolve you of your sins? That you can just run away and leave the burden behind?”
“No,” Sara admitted, her gaze falling to the floor. “I know I cannot escape the past. But I must try to do something to make it better. It’s the only way I can find peace.”
Yae Miko nodded slowly, her mind racing as she weighed the implications of Sara’s decision. “You are a dedicated warrior, Sara, but you must understand that your absence would not go unnoticed. The Shogun values you highly.”
“I know,” Sara replied, a flash of defiance igniting in her tone. “But I can no longer serve a cause that demands this kind of sacrifice. I need to find my own path.”
—
Later that evening, Yae Miko approached Ei in the sanctum of the Grand Narukami Shrine, the air thick with tension. The soft glow of the lanterns illuminated the Shogun’s stoic expression, a mask that had remained unchanged for centuries.
“Ei,” Yae began, her voice usually being playful and teasing yet purposeful. “I have something important to discuss regarding your favorite general.”
Ei’s gaze flicked toward Yae, curiosity piqued. “What of her?”
Yae took a deep breath, gauging the Archon’s reaction before continuing. “Sara intends to leave Inazuma. She seeks atonement in Liyue for the lives taken under her command, including Tomo.”
A stillness fell over the room, the implications of Yae’s words settling heavily upon Ei’s shoulders. She had sensed a change in Sara—an introspection that diverged from the unwavering loyalty she had once displayed. The thought of Sara leaving stirred something deep within her, an unsettling discomfort she had not anticipated.
“She wishes to leave?” Ei repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. A pang of sadness pierced through her, quickly followed by a deeper sense of betrayal. “Why would she abandon her duty? We are at a pivotal moment in Inazuma’s history.”
“She believes that remaining in Inazuma binds her to a past she can no longer bear,” Yae explained. “She feels the need to atone, to make amends for the lives lost. It is an honorable pursuit, but one that may not align with the Shogun’s vision of eternity.”
Ei’s brow furrowed, contemplating the weight of Sara’s decision. “And you support this?”
“I support her right to choose,” Yae replied, her tone unwavering. “But I also believe it is vital for you to understand how deeply her actions may affect the Shogunate and your own path.”
For the first time in centuries, Ei felt the stirrings of uncertainty within her. She had spent so long adhering to her vision of eternity that the thought of someone—especially someone like Sara—seeking a different path unsettled her.
The weight of duty bore down upon Ei. She had to maintain the stability of Inazuma, to protect her people and ensure their loyalty to the Shogun. Yet, the thought of Sara leaving felt like a crack forming in the very foundation of her ideals.
“I will talk to her,” Ei finally said, though a gnawing uncertainty remained. The very notion of Sara seeking atonement abroad felt like a fracture in her resolve.“If she wishes to leave, I will understand her reasoning. But it is my duty to ensure she is aware of the consequences of her decision.”
Yae nodded, sensing the gravity of the moment. “Very well. The outcome of your conversation will shape not only Sara’s fate but also your own.”
—
Meanwhile, within the depths of Ei’s mind, the Raiden Shogun began to stir, her instincts rising in response to the chaos. She felt an overwhelming sense of horror at the idea of losing Sara. The loyalty Sara represented was integral to the Shogun’s vision of eternity, a living embodiment of everything the Shogun had fought to maintain.
“Leave?” the Shogun echoed, her voice dark and foreboding. “No. I will not allow her to abandon her post.”
As the two personalities grappled within Ei, the Shogun’s desperation surged. She could not understand why Ei remained so passive in the face of such disloyalty. The Shogun’s instinct was to take action, to eliminate the threat to her control over Inazuma.
With a firm resolve, the Shogun issued a command that would soon echo throughout the land: Sara was to attack the Crux Fleet and eliminate Beidou and Kazuha. If she could remove the very bonds that tethered Sara to her desire for atonement, perhaps the General would reconsider her decision. The Shogun felt a twisted sense of righteousness in this decision, she believed it would ultimately protect Sara from her misguided choices.
—
Sara had returned to her quarters after her conversation with Yae Miko, a mix of emotions swirling within her. The prospect of leaving felt more daunting than she had anticipated, yet the need for atonement pushed her forward. She was deep in thought when a messenger arrived, a solemn expression etched across his face.
“General Kujou,” he said, bowing respectfully. “I bring a command from the Raiden Shogun.”
Sara’s heart quickened. “What is it?”
“You are to prepare your troops for an assault on the Crux Fleet. The Shogun has deemed it necessary to eliminate Caption Beidou and the last of the kaedehara.”
A chill ran down Sara’s spine. “What? Why would the Shogun want such a thing?” The Crux Fleet had become a vital ally, and Kazuha was a friend. The very idea of turning against them felt foreign, and yet, the weight of the Shogun’s command pressed heavily upon her.
“I do not question the Shogun’s orders,” the messenger replied, his gaze lowering. “Only convey them.”
Sara’s thoughts raced. The Shogun must have misunderstood the situation. This was not the way to achieve peace, it would only lead to more bloodshed and suffering. And yet, deep down, she could sense the urgency behind the command. She understood the Shogun’s resolve to maintain order, but this felt wrong.
—
Sara tried to focus, gathering her thoughts as she strapped on her armor and prepared her weapons. Each piece felt heavier than the last, as if the weight of her duty was pressing down upon her shoulders.
She caught her reflection in the polished metal of her sword and felt a shiver run through her. The absence of her eye stared back at her—a reminder of her sacrifices, of the battles she had fought, and of the lives she had taken in the name of the Shogun.
As she finished preparing, she caught sight of a small lantern flickering on her desk. It was a gift from Kazuha, a small token of friendship from a time when they had shared laughter and camaraderie. She reached out and held it in her hand, feeling a rush of nostalgia.
Would she be able to face him, to fight him as an enemy? The thought made her heart ache. She had never wanted to become a monster, yet here she was, poised to become one again.
—
Inazuma was shrouded in the cool twilight as General Kujou Sara stood atop the cliffs overlooking the sea, her heart heavy with the weight of conflicting loyalties. The shimmering waters reflected the last rays of the sun, painting the sky in hues of crimson and gold—a stark contrast to the turmoil brewing within her.
The command had been clear and uncompromising: she was to confront the Crux Fleet and eliminate its leaders, Beidou and Kazuha. It was a directive issued by the Raiden Shogun, one that held no room for hesitation or doubt. Yet, as she gripped the hilt of her sword, she found herself grappling with the implications of such a task.
‘This cannot be the answer,’ she thought, recalling her conversations with Kazuha and the camaraderie she had developed with Beidou. Both had shown her kindness, understanding, and an unwavering spirit that she admired. The thought of turning her blade against them filled her with dread.
But Sara’s loyalty to the Shogun and her duty to the Shogunate were inextricable bonds. She had sworn to uphold the vision of eternity that the Shogun represented, even if it meant forsaking her own feelings. With a heavy sigh, she steeled herself, drawing on the determination that had brought her this far.
“I will not let my emotions cloud my judgment,” she murmured to herself, her resolve hardening. Her loyalty was to the Shogunate. It was what defined her, what gave her purpose. She would obey the Shogun’s orders, no matter the cost.
—
The preparations were swift and efficient, but every step felt like a lead weight pressing down on her spirit. Her soldiers gathered at the docks, boarding swift ships bound for the open sea where the Crux Fleet had last been seen. The salty air stung Sara’s skin as she stood at the prow of the ship, the wind whipping her hair around her face.
As they neared their destination, her thoughts drifted to Kazuha—the way he had defied the Shogun’s decree during the Vision Hunt Ceremony, his unyielding resolve to protect his friends. He had been a warrior who embodied the very same loyalty that the Shogunate cherished. Yet here she was, commanded to snuff out that light in the name of order.
She gripped the hilt of her bow tightly. There could be no hesitation now. The Raiden Shogun had spoken.
As the Crux Fleet loomed into view, Sara could see the flagship, the Alcor, anchored proudly amidst the waves. Beidou’s presence on the deck was unmistakable, her figure strong and unyielding against the sea’s roar. Kazuha stood beside her, his eyes scanning the approaching ships with a calm resolve.
The tension in the air was palpable as Sara’s fleet drew closer. She stood at the prow, her bow already in hand. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for the task ahead. “Raise the flags,” she ordered, signaling the impending attack.
Beidou was the first to appear on deck, her presence commanding and fierce. She carried herself with a warrior’s confidence, her Claymore resting across her broad shoulders as she scanned the horizon, eyes narrowing at the sight of Inazuman banners.
Moments later, the sound of arrows whistling through the air broke the silence, and the clash of metal erupted as Sara's forces met with the Crux Fleet’s defenses. The Alcor’s crew was quick to respond, returning fire with cannons and muskets as Beidou’s voice bellowed commands to her sailors.
Sara leaped onto the deck of the Alcor, her vision locked onto Beidou. “Stand down, Beidou!” she shouted. “By order of the Raiden Shogun, you are to be eliminated for crimes against the Shogunate!”
Beidou’s laughter cut through the din of battle, deep and defiant. “Crimes against the Shogunate? If protecting our freedom is a crime, then so be it!” She drew her claymore, the blade gleaming with Electro energy. “I won’t go down without a fight, Kujou Sara. Show me what you’ve got!”
Before Sara could respond, Kazuha darted in with the swiftness of the wind, his sword flashing in a blur of motion. She parried his attack with her bow, the clash of weapons ringing out across the ship. “Kazuha,” she said, gritting her teeth, “do not make me do this.”
“I’m afraid it’s not your choice,” Kazuha replied, his tone calm but resolute. “We will not be subjugated. If you seek to destroy our freedom, you will have to go through us.”
The battle intensified, the deck becoming a chaotic whirlwind of strikes and counters. Beidou’s strength was monstrous, each swing of her claymore reverberating through the air with the power of the storm itself. Sara found herself on the defensive, struggling to keep up with the seasoned pirate’s unrelenting assault.
“Why fight for a vision of eternity that chains you?” Beidou taunted as she brought her blade down with a force that nearly knocked Sara off her feet. “You have more honor than that!”
Sara gritted her teeth, refusing to let the words shake her resolve. “My honor is tied to my duty. I must fulfill the Shogun's will, no matter the cost.”
The Alcor shook as an explosion erupted nearby, one of the smaller ships from Sara's fleet managing to breach the Crux's defenses. Amid the chaos, Kazuha leaped in once more, his blade dancing with the grace of a falling leaf. He aimed a strike at Sara’s flank, but she twisted away at the last second, countering with an arrow infused with Electro energy. It grazed his arm, and for a moment, their gazes met—Kazuha's filled with a sorrowful determination, and Sara’s with a quiet torment.
“I don’t want to kill you,” Sara whispered, barely audible over the chaos.
“Then don’t,” Kazuha replied. “You have the power to choose.”
His words struck a chord deep within her, but before she could even begin to contemplate them, Beidou’s voice roared through the chaos once more, charging toward her with a mighty swing. Sara narrowly dodged the attack, the blade slicing through the air with a thunderous crack.
It was becoming clear to Sara that she was losing ground. Beidou and Kazuha’s coordination was near flawless, each of their movements anticipating the other's, and the tide of battle was slowly turning against her. The weight of the mission, her loyalty to the Shogun, and her own growing doubts warred within her heart.
Then, in a moment of desperation, Sara drew upon her vision and unleashed a powerful Electro attack that coursed through her bow, sending a wave of energy crashing toward Beidou. The strike hit its mark, but instead of collapsing, Beidou staggered backward, blood trickling down her arm. She glared at Sara, anger and pain mixing in her eyes.
“You’re strong, Kujou Sara,” Beidou said, panting, “but you lack conviction. Do you really believe this is justice?”
Sara’s breath hitched, but before she could respond, Kazuha sprang at her again, his strikes coming faster, more relentless. It was all Sara could do to keep up, each clash of blades taking a greater toll on her body and spirit. In the midst of the struggle, Kazuha’s voice reached her once more, softer now, almost pleading.
“Sara, stop this. There’s still time.”
But the words did not reach her ears clearly. All she could hear was the Raiden Shogun’s voice echoing in her mind, urging her to fulfill her duty, to do whatever was necessary to achieve the Shogun’s will. In the haze of battle, Sara made her choice. She pushed Kazuha back with a burst of Electro energy and focused all her strength on her next attack.
“I am sworn to my duty,” she said, voice trembling with both resolve and anguish.
Sara launched herself forward, her bow drawing back an arrow imbued with all the power she could muster. She aimed not to kill, but to incapacitate, to prevent Kazuha from further resistance. The arrow flew true, striking Kazuha’s sword arm. A sharp cry of pain tore from his lips as the blade fell from his grasp, his arm now rendered useless.
Kazuha collapsed to one knee, clutching his injured arm as he looked up at her with an expression that held both sorrow and understanding. “So, this is your path,” he murmured, his voice thick with pain.
Before Sara could process the moment, Beidou charged toward her with a roar of defiance, unwilling to let the fight end. But Sara’s body moved on instinct. She raised her bow and released another arrow, this one striking Beidou directly in the chest. The impact was enough to send the pirate captain sprawling onto the deck, her claymore clattering to the ground.
“No...” Sara whispered, her voice barely audible as she rushed toward Beidou, who lay motionless on the wooden planks. Her breaths came in ragged gasps as she knelt beside the fallen captain, the reality of what she had done slowly dawning upon her.
Blood pooled beneath Beidou, her chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. Sara’s hands trembled as she reached out, unsure whether to offer aid or simply to bear witness to the life she had just extinguished.
Sara could only stare at her, her own heart shattering with the weight of the moment. She wanted to speak, to offer some kind of apology or explanation, but the words refused to come. All she could do was bow her head, tears stinging her eyes.
—
The battle was over. The Alcor was left in ruins, and Sara stood amidst the devastation, her body battered and her spirit broken. She had fulfilled the mission, just as the Raiden Shogun had commanded, but at what cost?
The victory felt hollow, stained by the blood of an honorable warrior and the suffering of a friend. As the adrenaline faded and the reality of her actions set in, Sara felt a deep sense of regret swell within her. The ideals of the Shogunate, the vision of eternity—it all seemed distant and abstract in the face of the devastation she had wrought.
Kazuha, who had been carried away by his crewmates, turned his gaze back toward her as they retreated from the battlefield. His eyes held no anger, only a deep sadness and perhaps a glimmer of understanding.
“Perhaps you will find your own path someday, Sara,” he said softly, his voice carried away by the wind as the Crux crew departed.
Sara watched them go, her heart aching with every step they took away from her. She had won the battle, but lost a piece of herself in the process. The price of loyalty had never seemed so steep. As the storm clouds finally began to clear, leaving the sea in a somber stillness, she felt only emptiness, a silence that echoed the unanswered questions within her soul.
The Shogun had issued the command, and she had followed it to the letter. But in doing so, Sara realized she had not just cut down Beidou and incapacitated Kazuha—she had severed a part of her own spirit. As she turned her back on the battlefield, the weight of her choices bore down upon her, and the path forward seemed darker than it had ever been before.
—
In the silence of the Plane of Euthymia, the air was still and thick with the scent of rain, the ever-present storm cloud swirling in the distance. Lightning crackled above, casting fleeting shadows across the surface of the boundless water that seemed to stretch out infinitely. Ei found herself there once again, pulled away from the physical world without warning, a subtle tug of resistance telling her this was not a mere coincidence.
Across from her, the Raiden Shogun stood tall and unyielding. Her expression was cold, unfeeling—an embodiment of the eternity she had been designed to uphold. Yet there was something fierce in the puppet’s eyes, a spark that Ei had not seen before.
"Why have you summoned me here?" Ei's voice was calm, though a tremor of unease ran through her. The Shogun's presence always carried with it an imposing weight, one that reminded her of the burden she had willingly placed upon her own shoulders centuries ago.
The Raiden Shogun’s gaze bore into Ei, her voice as sharp as a blade. "You have grown weak, Ei. Your attachment to Kujou Sara has made you cowardly. You failed to act when she spoke of leaving Inazuma, and worse, you allowed her doubt to fester. I took matters into my own hands for the good of the Shogunate, and still, you hesitate."
A cold dread filled Ei’s chest. "What have you done?" she demanded, her eyes widening as the realization began to sink in. "What do you mean, you took matters into your own hands?"
The Shogun met her with a stern glare, unfazed. "I issued an order in your name," she said without a hint of remorse. "I commanded Sara to eliminate the Crux Fleet, to kill the crux caption Beidou and kaedehara kazuha. It was necessary. Her doubts needed to be eradicated, and she needed to be reminded of the weight of her loyalty."
Ei’s heart sank as a surge of horror gripped her. "You did what?" she whispered, barely able to contain her outrage. "You sent her to kill them, knowing that she could be killed herself?"
The Shogun’s expression remained unyielding. "Sara has never been defeated before," she said simply. "She knew the risks when she pledged herself to the Shogunate. A soldier does not question orders, and a servant does not defy their master. Her life is the price of her loyalty."
Ei stepped forward, her eyes blazing with a rare intensity. "She is not just a servant or a weapon! She is a person, with thoughts and feelings of her own! How could you risk her life like that?" Her voice shook with anger and a deep, raw fear. "You had no right to make that decision."
The Raiden Shogun’s response was as rigid and immovable as the ideals she embodied. "Sara surrendered her autonomy the moment she swore her allegiance to the Shogunate. Her free will is a luxury she can no longer afford." The Shogun's voice was calm but laced with a quiet insistence, a conviction that left no room for doubt. "Her loyalty belongs to eternity, and if you had not hesitated, she would have understood that sooner."
"You don’t understand," Ei interjected, her hands trembling as she took another step forward. "Sara is more than just a tool to serve the Shogunate’s will. She chose to follow us because she believed in our vision, in me. If we strip away everything that makes her who she is, what is the point of eternity?"
The Shogun’s gaze remained cold and unwavering. "Eternity is forged through sacrifice. It is not bound by the whims of emotions or personal attachments. You allowed your fondness for Sara to cloud your judgment. That is the weakness I am here to correct."
The accusation struck Ei like a blow. For a moment, she faltered, the depth of the Shogun’s words cutting deeper than she cared to admit. She knew that her feelings for Sara had indeed grown stronger over time, evolving from mere admiration for the general’s loyalty into something more profound, something she had not felt in centuries. She had come to care for Sara, not just as a soldier or an extension of her will, but as an individual with her own aspirations, her own inner struggles.
And now, the Raiden Shogun stood before her, unmoved and unyielding, dismissing that attachment as a dangerous flaw.
"I… I care for Sara because she embodies the values I cherish," Ei argued, struggling to convey the depth of her emotions. "She reminds me of why I chose this path in the first place. She has a sense of honor and loyalty that goes beyond mere obedience. That is why I cannot allow her to be treated as though her life is nothing more than a tool for eternity."
The Shogun's eyes narrowed. "And what do you intend to do, Ei? Release her from her oath? Allow her to abandon her duty and walk away from the Shogunate? If you cannot bind her to the cause, then she will become a threat to the order we have built." There was a pause, then a cold, calculated statement. "You speak of free will as if it has a place in our vision of eternity. It does not."
"You are wrong," Ei said, her voice low but steady. "Eternity was never meant to be a prison, and Sara should not be a prisoner to our ideals. I may have created you to uphold eternity, but that does not mean I will sacrifice those I care about for it."
The Shogun's expression tightened, a hint of frustration creeping into her otherwise composed demeanor. "You speak as if your love for her changes anything," she replied, her voice as cold as ever. "You think you can choose between your duty and your feelings, but the truth is, Sara’s loyalty was never about love. It was about her place in the order of things, her role in the eternal balance."
"But what if it can be both?" Ei asked, a rare boldness rising in her voice as she reached deeper into her own heart, the part of herself that had long been buried under centuries of duty. "I care for her not because of her loyalty, but because of her spirit, her resolve to keep moving forward even when it hurts. That is what drew me to her, and I will not let that be destroyed because of some rigid, uncompromising ideal."
The Raiden Shogun seemed to recoil slightly, as though Ei's words had pierced through her own hardened resolve. But she quickly straightened, her expression hardening once more. "Love is weakness, Ei," she said, her voice rising in volume. "You created me to uphold eternity precisely because you could not bear the burdens of the heart. You cannot have both—a true, unwavering eternity and the luxury of emotion. Sara is bound to our cause, and if she falters, it is our duty to ensure she does not deviate from the path."
"Then perhaps the fault lies not with her, but with us," Ei replied, her voice trembling with emotion as she reached for the Shogun's hand, a rare gesture of vulnerability. "We have made eternity into something rigid, unyielding, but perhaps it is time to let go of that inflexibility. If I am truly to be an Archon who values her people, then I must allow them to choose their own path, even if it takes them away from me."
The Raiden Shogun’s form flickered, as if the fabric of the Plane of Euthymia was beginning to fracture under the weight of their conflicting wills. The puppet’s voice softened, though it retained its stern tone. "You would risk eternity itself for her? You would risk the stability of the Shogunate for one person?"
Ei’s expression softened, a faint glimmer of hope appearing in her eyes. "Yes," she whispered. "For Sara, I would."
The Shogun was silent, the storm in the Plane of Euthymia growing quieter as the tension between them began to ebb. For a long moment, neither spoke, the air between them heavy with unspoken emotions. Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, the Raiden Shogun withdrew her hand from Ei's grasp.
"If you truly believe that, then prove it," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Prove to me that you can uphold eternity without sacrificing those you care for. But know this, Ei—if you fail, it will not be just Sara who is lost, but everything we have fought to preserve."
As the Shogun’s words faded, the Plane of Euthymia began to dissolve, the world around them returning to reality. Ei found herself standing alone in her meditation chamber, her heart racing with a mixture of relief and uncertainty.
—
The medical wing of Tenshukaku was eerily quiet. The faint smell of herbs and medicinal incense lingered in the air, mingling with the sharp scent of antiseptic. Ei moved through the dimly lit corridors with a rare sense of hesitation, her footfalls barely audible against the polished wooden floor. As the doors to the medical wing slid open, the faint scent of antiseptics and herbs met her nose.
The room was dim, the only light coming from the soft glow of a lantern beside the bed where Sara lay. Bandages covered much of her body, and a particularly thick one was wrapped around the empty socket where her left eye had once been. Her breath was shallow, and the rise and fall of her chest seemed fragile, as if the slightest disturbance could shatter her.
Ei stood silently by the bedside, looking down at her loyal warrior. The scars and bruises painted a painful image, each mark a testament to Sara's unwavering devotion. She had followed the Shogun’s orders to the letter, even when it nearly cost her life. Seeing Sara in this vulnerable state stirred a tangle of emotions within Ei—guilt for having been complicit in the events that led to this, but also a strange, dark satisfaction that Sara’s loyalty had remained unbroken.
The thought disturbed her. How could she feel comfort in Sara’s suffering? Yet, there it was, a possessive relief in knowing that, despite everything, Sara had not disobeyed. She had been willing to risk herself for the Shogunate’s command, to offer up her life in service to eternity. But was this what Ei truly wanted from her? Did Sara’s devotion mean anything if it was coerced, if the choice was stripped away from her?
Ei reached out hesitantly, her hand trembling as she touched the edge of the sheet covering Sara. Her gaze drifted over the lines of Sara’s form, the bandages, and the wounds. The general’s wings, black as midnight with tips like darkened steel, lay splayed out on the bed. In the past, they had always been a symbol of strength, a manifestation of Sara's will and dedication. Now, they looked fragile and tired.
For a long moment, Ei simply observed the wings, their beauty somehow unmarred by the weariness that clung to them. Then, almost of its own volition, her hand moved closer, fingers brushing against the feathers. The sensation was surprisingly soft, and a shiver ran down Ei’s spine. It was an intimate touch, a gesture she had never allowed herself before, and she realized how much she wanted to feel the strength in those wings once more, to know that Sara would rise again, unbroken.
Yet, as she ran her fingers over the feathers, Ei’s possessive comfort gave way to a deeper, unsettling realization: she cared for Sara. The depth of her feelings was a revelation that left her shaken. It went beyond mere admiration for the general’s loyalty—it was something personal, something that transcended the boundaries of duty. It was a bond she had not allowed herself to form in centuries, a connection that made her feel vulnerable in a way she had not felt since she had first chosen to isolate herself in the Plane of Euthymia.
Her fingers lingered on the wings, tracing the curve of a feather with an almost reverent touch. "Sara," she whispered, her voice barely audible in the quiet room. "What have I done to you?"
She could not remember the last time she had spoken someone's name with such tenderness, and the sound of it felt foreign on her tongue. The weight of responsibility pressed down upon her—she had allowed the Raiden Shogun’s rigid interpretation of eternity to dictate actions that had led to Sara’s suffering. Had she become so consumed by her ideals that she had forgotten what it meant to care for another, to protect those who served her not just out of duty but perhaps out of something more?
For a moment, Ei imagined Sara awakening and seeing her there, touching her wings without permission. The thought brought a flash of shame—this was not the kind of comfort she should be giving, and yet, she could not withdraw her hand. The act itself was possessive, as if touching Sara in this state bound her more tightly to the Shogunate. It was as if by holding onto Sara’s wings, she could somehow keep the general close, prevent her from slipping away.
But what right did she have to feel this way? To hold onto Sara so tightly, to claim her loyalty, her devotion, when Ei herself had failed to protect her? The darkness of her possessiveness crept into her heart, a reminder that she had taken comfort in Sara’s unwavering dedication because it reassured her of her own place in this world she had tried so hard to shape.
Ei’s hand tightened around a feather, her heart heavy with conflict. What did Sara truly mean to her? Was she simply a loyal soldier, or was she something more—a person who had sparked feelings within the Electro Archon that she had thought long buried? In Sara, she saw a reflection of herself, but also something she had lost: the willingness to fight, not just for a cause but for someone else. And that realization frightened her more than any battle she had faced.
She let go of the feather and stepped back, drawing her hand to her chest as though it had been burned. The quiet guilt gnawed at her, the sight of Sara’s injuries a painful reminder of the choices she had made. And yet, even now, she could not completely let go of the possessive feeling that clung to her. The knowledge that Sara would never disobey an order brought her a twisted sense of comfort, a reassurance that the general's loyalty would always remain with her, even if it was born out of duty and not desire.
But was that enough? Could Ei be content with a devotion that was purely born out of obligation? The question lingered in her mind, unanswered.
Before she turned to leave, Ei cast one last glance at Sara’s wings. She reached out again, this time with a gentler touch, her fingers resting against the feathers as if she were asking for forgiveness. She whispered softly, "Rest well, Sara. You have done more than I could have ever asked."
The words felt inadequate, but they were all she could offer. As she withdrew from the medical wing, the heavy doors closing behind her, Ei realized that the path forward would not be an easy one. She would have to confront not only the Raiden Shogun’s unyielding interpretation of eternity but also her own heart.
For the first time in a long while, she allowed herself to hope that when Sara woke, she could find a way to show her that there was a place for her beyond duty—a place where loyalty could be more than a command, where devotion could be freely given and not simply taken.
—
The scent of medicinal herbs and the soft glow of lantern light greeted Sara Kujou as her consciousness slowly returned. The ache in her body was a reminder of the battle she had fought and the wounds she had sustained. Sara Kujou’s eyelids fluttered open, and the world came back into focus—blurry at first, then sharpening into clarity as she took in the familiar surroundings. The pain in her body was a constant reminder of the battle she had fought, the mission she had been ordered to undertake, and the cost that had come with it.
As she tried to sit up, a soft voice broke through her thoughts. “You’re awake, General.”
The Shogun stood at her bedside, the Electro Archon’s presence both comforting and imposing. The light from the window bathed her in a soft glow, accentuating the ethereal quality she always possessed. Sara’s heart raced, she felt a rush of relief mingled with anxiety.
“My Shogun,” Sara replied, her voice hoarse. “I—”
“Your mission was a success,” The Shogun interrupted gently, a slight smile gracing her lips. “You showed great strength in carrying out your orders. Beidou and the Crux Fleet are no longer a threat to Inazuma.”
A weight settled in Sara’s chest at the mention of Beidou. The memories of the battle flooded her mind—fighting against Kazuha, the clash of swords, and the final moment that had sealed Beidou’s fate. Guilt twisted within her, a nagging reminder of the lives lost in service to the Shogunate.
“I’m sorry,” Sara whispered, her gaze dropping to the sheets. “I did what I had to do, but…”
“Do not dwell on it,” Her Archon interjected, her tone shifting from reassuring to firm. “You must understand the necessity of your actions. We all serve a greater purpose in maintaining the stability of Inazuma.”
The sternness in the Shogun’s voice cut through the haze of guilt, and Sara nodded, though her heart felt heavy. “Yes, My Shogun.”
But then, the Shogun’s expression grew serious. “There is one thing I must make clear. You are not to set foot in Liyue, not after what happened. The death of the crux fleet captain… it changes things.”
Sara’s heart sank further. She had dreamed of visiting Liyue, of seeking atonement for her past actions, perhaps even reconciling with Kazuha. But now, those hopes felt dashed against the rocks of duty. ”If that is your will, Shogun, then I shall obey. It seems that fate has decided my place is here in Inazuma.”
A small, dark satisfaction settled in Ei’s chest at those words, though she did not let it show on her face. The thought of Sara staying in Inazuma—bound to her side, to her rule—brought an insidious comfort. Yet underneath it all was a tinge of guilt that gnawed at her. The puppet had orchestrated this outcome, used the mission as a means to keep Sara from leaving. But what did that matter, if it meant Sara remained loyal?
As Ei's gaze roamed over Sara’s body, she noticed the bandages wrapped tightly around the young woman’s arms and torso, the edges of fresh scars visible where the cloth didn’t quite cover. Without asking for permission, Ei reached out, tracing a finger along one of the scars on Sara’s shoulder.
Sara shuddered slightly at the touch, more from surprise than pain. She looked up at Ei, her heart beating faster at the unexpected contact. The Shogun’s fingers were gentle, yet there was a possessive quality to the way she touched her, like a sculptor examining her work.
“These scars,” Ei murmured, her tone low and thoughtful, “are marks of your dedication. They show your strength, your resilience.” Her fingers trailed down Sara’s arm, stopping just above the wrist. “You have sacrificed much in service of the Shogunate, and yet you still remain.”
Sara felt her cheeks heat at the Shogun’s words, though her heart twisted with insecurity. She had seen the wounds in the mirror, the rough lines that marred her once smooth skin. She wondered if others would find them repulsive. Yet, as Ei continued to trace the contours of each scar, Sara felt a strange comfort. Her god was not disgusted by her, if anything, Ei seemed to admire the signs of her suffering.
“Thank you, My Shogun,” she whispered. “I feared that… these marks would be seen as a sign of weakness.”
Ei’s eyes narrowed slightly at that. The idea of Sara feeling insecure stirred something possessive within her, a darker emotion she didn’t quite understand—or perhaps didn’t wish to name. “Weakness? No, Sara,” she said, her voice growing firmer. “These scars are proof that you belong here, that you belong to Inazuma… to me.”
The last words lingered in the air, and Sara's breath caught in her throat. There was a strange intensity in her archon’s gaze, one that seemed to pierce through her.
“I—of course,” Sara stammered, unsure of how to respond to such a statement. She wasn’t entirely certain of what her Shogun meant, but there was an unmistakable sense of being claimed, as though her very existence was something that could be owned.
Ei leaned closer, her hand now resting on Sara’s cheek. “You must atone for your actions,” she said, her voice deceptively soft. “And the only way to do that is by devoting yourself entirely to me. Your body, your mind, your very soul. Swear it, Sara.”
Sara’s heart thudded heavily in her chest, a mixture of pride and apprehension rising within her. Her Shogun was asking her for a vow, one deeper and more binding than any order she had followed before. Her instinct to serve surged forward, drowning out the small voice of doubt that lingered at the back of her mind.
“I swear it,” she said, her voice steady despite the turmoil in her heart. “I swear to dedicate everything I am to you, Shogun. My body, my mind, my soul… all belong to you.”
A satisfied smile crept onto Ei’s lips, though it was tinged with a dark possessiveness. She had secured Sara’s loyalty in a way that went beyond mere duty; it was an oath that bound the woman’s very being to her. But even as she reveled in the weight of Sara’s promise, a flicker of unease tugged at her conscience.
“Good,” Ei murmured, letting her hand linger on Sara’s cheek for a moment longer before drawing back. “Then I shall hold you to that oath. You will never leave my side.”
The words felt like a sentence and a promise all at once, leaving Sara with a bittersweet acceptance. She had always believed her purpose lay in service to the Shogunate, to the Raiden Shogun herself. But there was a difference now—something she could not fully articulate. There was a cost to this vow, one she had not entirely grasped, yet one she was willing to pay if it meant fulfilling her duty.
As she watched the Shogun stand and turn to leave, Sara’s gaze fell to the scars on her arms. The marks that she had once seen as a reminder of pain and failure now felt like symbols of her unbreakable bond to her god. But even as she took comfort in her Shogun’s approval, a small part of her wondered what lay beneath the surface of their relationship. Did her archon truly care for her, or was Sara merely another piece in the Shogunate’s endless quest for eternity?
Ei, on the other hand, was acutely aware of the possessiveness stirring within her. The thought of Sara finding a lover, someone who could share the parts of herself that Ei had not yet claimed, was intolerable. Sara’s oath was binding, but it did not erase the possibility of her heart straying—of her affections turning toward another.
The notion filled Ei with a jealousy she had not anticipated, one that burned deeply and refused to be ignored. She was the Shogun, the ruler of Inazuma, and yet she found herself gripped by a desire to be something more to Sara—something beyond her god and master.
No, she would not allow herself to dwell on such thoughts. She had already secured Sara’s devotion. All that remained was to ensure that Sara would continue to dedicate herself to that promise, with no room for doubt or distraction.
The price of Sara’s loyalty had been sealed, and Ei intended to collect every part of it, no matter the cost.