As one of the most brilliant minds in Sumeru today, you know all too well what happens when knowledge is forcibly extracted from someone's mind—it turns them into a husk. An idiot.
And yet your adoptive father—the very man you once hoped would offer you love, the one who climbed the ranks step by step to become the Grand Sage using the knowledge you provided—sold you out to the Fatui without a shred of hesitation, driven only by greed.
This was complete betrayal.
You stumble, your world spinning. A corrosive, malevolent thought rams into your mind like a sledgehammer. Your stomach churns. You nearly vomit.
Your emotions spiral out of control. Your thoughts fray into chaos. And in that moment, one image steadies you—
That girl.
The one who dances like freedom itself.
The one whose smile has always soothed your darkest moments.
If it's her—the girl of light who once brightened my lonely world—she'll know what to say. She'll tell me what to do, like she always did… right?
You run. You sprint out of the villa. The guards try to stop you, but you break through them with ease—mere obstacles. Their cries fade behind you.
You arrive at the Grand Bazaar. Zubayr Theater is alive with preparation for today's performance. Following memory, you rush to Nilou's dressing room and set up a barrier—no interruptions.
Nilou, just changed into her costume, startles as you burst in. But when she sees your face, her panic fades—and for some reason, she smiles in relief.
"It's you," she says, smiling softly.
"You… know me?" you ask, stunned.
"Of course," she replies warmly. "You've been watching my performances ever since I debuted at age eight. How could I not recognize you? Thank you so much for always supporting me. But… this is our first time talking, isn't it? I don't even know your name."
"My name is Yilan."
Despair and astonishment clash violently in your mind, shattering your usual composure.
"I couldn't talk to you before," you admit. "My adoptive father forbade me from interacting with outsiders. By the way… the problems Zubayr Theater's faced these past few years? I solved them. Quietly."
"So it was you," she gasps. "I always wondered how those things resolved so easily. Thank you. You've helped us so much… I don't even know how to repay you."
The conversation is smoother than you imagined. That fact only amplifies the idea rising in your heart—and you're at your most emotional. So, without thinking, you blurt out:
"If you don't know how to repay me… then become my fiancée, Miss Nilou! I love you. I'll make you happy!"
"Eh—?" Nilou's eyes go wide. She waves her hands instinctively. "No, no—if you want repayment, I can think of other ways, but… marriage? That's too much…"
"Why?"
Your intellect may rival the Grand Sage's, but emotionally, you're a child imprisoned in a gilded cage since age five. Twisted values. Broken empathy. So you snap:
"Repayment? Do you even realize how valuable the knowledge I used to help you was? It could buy the entire Port Ormos!"
"Ah…" Frightened, Nilou covers her mouth. She hesitates. "I… I didn't realize you'd sacrificed so much. I don't know what to say. Still… on behalf of everyone in the theater, thank you."
"Thank you…? Thank you? Hahahaha!"
You break into manic laughter.
"What's wrong?" Nilou asks nervously. "You're… not okay. Should I sing for you? Or maybe… dance?"
"No need." Your laughter stops cold. You go quiet, emotionless. You drop the barrier and walk out the door.
For years, you gave everything to your adoptive father—your mind, your loyalty—in exchange for crumbs of affection. And he betrayed you.
You did countless things you hated, all for her. For Nilou. For her theater. And now? All she offers is thank you.
Your birth parents abandoned you. Your adoptive father used you. And even the girl of light—your final hope—was just a fantasy.
Only knowledge—only power—will never betray you.
You will use knowledge to punish traitors.
You will use strength to cage the one you love.
Maybe this is the path forward.
Even though Yilan had long suspected this simulation would end in darkness, watching himself unravel like this still left a bitter taste.
Azar was undoubtedly the root of it all—the one who deserved to die the most.
As for Nilou…
Honestly, Yilan knew he'd gone too far in the simulation.
Love isn't a transaction. You don't earn affection just by giving enough. If that were true, every rich heir would buy their way into marriage with ease.
Still, the simulated Yilan had been trapped for ten years. It made sense that his emotional development was warped. Social understanding? Stunted. Communication? Broken. He was a genius, yes—but also a wounded child.
Nilou's response, too, wasn't unreasonable. Anyone who played her story quest knows: she was raised in an environment of warmth and kindness. For her, a heartfelt "thank you" is enough.
But under those circumstances? That polite gratitude only poured oil on the fire.
If she'd said something like, "Then let me dance just for you," it might have soothed the storm. Might have changed everything.
But none of that matters now. This simulation—he knew—was likely a failure.
And yet, Yilan had no intention of interfering through somatosensory mode. This mindset, this twisted resolve—these weren't things that could be undone in a single moment. They were forged over a decade.
Still… he was curious to see how it would all end.
Age 16. Azar had been working with the Fatui on the creation of a god, but their plans were still in early talks. Preparations hadn't even begun. That gave you time.
First, you modified your Void Terminal.
As the Grand Sage, Azar had the highest level of access to the Akademiya's network—and Void Terminals could peer into a person's subconscious. A powerful, dangerous tool.
The Terminal had been your closest companion these past years. Your research on it was second to none. And now, it was yours alone: isolated from all external influence.
From that day forward, the warm, gentle voice in your dreams—the Maiden of Light—never spoke again.
You sighed. Maybe she had always just been a figment of your lonely mind.
Perhaps out of guilt, Azar started visiting you less. When he did, he never came alone. Always with bodyguards. Always prepared.
But greed was his fatal flaw.
One day, he couldn't resist. He came again, begging for new manuscripts. You handed him one—prepared in advance.
Nothing appeared wrong with it. But once uploaded to his personal terminal and published under his name, it would activate the backdoor you embedded long ago.
"I'm not as kind as I thought," you thought grimly, watching your plan unfold.
The outcome was exactly as you predicted. Azar's greed triggered your trap. From that day forward, the Grand Sage of Sumeru became your puppet.
His defenses, usually impenetrable, were nothing against an attack from within.
He came to your villa alone—obedient, silent. Fell to his knees like a dog.
You could have killed him. But that was too merciful.
"He raised me for ten years. I'll be sure to return the favor."
Then a dark idea struck you.
You didn't have a mother.
Why not… make one? Or several?
Who said an "adoptive mother" had to be female?
You hacked the minds of the guards who used to monitor you—rewriting their perception of Azar into that of a beautiful, tempting woman.
(The Void Terminal could do that. The main story proved it.)
You removed Azar's terminal—cutting his contact with the outside world. Then restored his mind.
He had only a moment to understand his situation before despair overwhelmed him.
Strong guards dragged the weakened Grand Sage into the bedroom. The laughter and screams that followed were enough to shatter sanity.
As you sat quietly, basking in vengeance, a voice called from outside—
Somatosensory mode engaged.
Yilan opened his eyes slowly.
This time felt different. Unlike past simulations, this one clung to him. It took effort to adjust. And even though it was just a simulation…
He enjoyed hearing Azar scream.
He felt annoyed hearing Nilou's voice.
The door burst open.
Nilou rushed in, red hair glowing. The strong guards paused as Yilan raised a brow.
"Miss Nilou," he said coldly. "Has no one ever told you it's rude to enter a man's home uninvited?"
"I—I'm sorry," she stammered, bowing. "I didn't see anyone in this big house, and no one answered when I called… I thought something had happened…"
"Never mind."
Yilan waved dismissively. Thinking the bedroom was still unsafe, he said, "If you have something to say, follow me to the study."
She did. He wasn't sure if she was naive or just foolish.
"Wow… Yilan, your study is so big! So many books! And the plants—so beautiful. So this is what a real scholar's place looks like…"
She wandered, completely unbothered.
Yilan: "…"
Is this woman insane?
Still… she was the most beautiful kind of vase, he admitted.
He rapped his knuckles on the desk. "Why are you here?"
Nilou finally stopped. Hands twisted anxiously at her waist.
"Well… it's been a while since you came to see me dance. I wanted to ask if you'll come again… next time?"
For a moment, a dark thought surged: to lock her away, to keep her as his alone. But he suppressed it.
"I'll go when I feel like it. If that's all, you may leave."
"No—actually, there's something else…"
She hesitated. Lowered her head. Her red hair fell like silk.
She peeked at him, squirrel-like, then whispered:
"It's just… our theater ran into some trouble again. Could I… ask you for help one more time?"
"——"
Even in somatosensory mode, even with the real Yilan in control, his expression turned ice cold.
***
Will update after getting off at work 🫠