The decision, once made, was acted upon with a swift, secret urgency. Ningguang, seeing the cold, brilliant, and utterly insane logic of Ren's plan, gave her full, if reluctant, support. A mission to Inazuma was not just a desperate flight; it was an unprecedented opportunity for intelligence gathering in a nation that had been a black box for years.
Their first step was to inform Lumine. They found her at the Adventurers' Guild, fresh from her harrowing, successful expedition to the frozen peaks of Dragonspine, her strength and her confidence clearly bolstered by the experience.
They met in a private room at the Wanmin Restaurant. Ganyu, Ren, Yelan and a very confused Lumine.
"We're going to Inazuma," Ren said, getting straight to the point. "And we think you should come with us."
Lumine stared, completely taken aback. "Inazuma? But… the borders are closed. No one can get in or out. And the Vision Hunt Decree…"
"We have a way," Yelan interjected, her voice a low, confident murmur. "The Liyue Qixing has… certain arrangements with certain independent naval captains who are not strictly bound by international law. We can secure you passage."
Ren then explained the situation in its entirety—the arrival of Dottore, the direct, personal threat he posed, and his audacious plan to use Inazuma as a hiding place and a new front for his own quest for understanding.
Lumine listened, her golden eyes wide with a dawning comprehension, and then, a brilliant, grateful smile. "You… you're serious?" she breathed. "I've been wondering for weeks how I was going to get into Inazuma. The next part of my search for my brother is there, but it seemed impossible." She looked at Ren, her gratitude immense. "Ren, you've done it again. You've just solved my biggest problem."
It was settled. The new, secret delegation to Inazuma would consist of Lumine, the hero, Ganyu, the adeptal guardian, and Ren, the boy who was both the reason for the journey and its strategic architect.
Before they left, Ren had one last, reassuring talk with a still deeply worried Ganyu. "Dottore won't stay in Liyue for long once I'm gone," he explained, his logic calm and reassuring. "His primary target is me, and the unique knowledge I have. He'll try to steal the technology, but the factory is too well-guarded, and the benefits are that tangible to the risks involved."
He looked at her, his understanding of the Harbingers' personalities unnervingly precise. "He's a researcher, a biologist, a man who experiments with life and the abyss. He's not an engineer like Sandrone. The 'trinkets', as he would see them, that are being produced in Liyue will hold little interest for him once he realizes the true architect is gone. He'll get bored. He'll move on to his next monstrous experiment. My leaving is the fastest way to make him leave."
His words, a cold but accurate assessment of the monster's psychology, did little to soothe her heart, but they satisfied her logical mind.
A few days later, under the cover of a moonless night, the small group was secretly escorted to a secluded part of the harbor. There, bobbing gently in the dark water, was their ride: the Alcor, the magnificent flagship of the Crux Fleet.
A tall, powerful woman with a confident, almost regal, bearing stood on the deck to greet them. She wore a striking, crimson outfit and an eyepatch, and a massive, unsealed Claymore was strapped to her back. It was Captain Beidou, the uncrowned queen of the seas.
"So," Beidou's voice boomed, a rich, hearty sound full of salt and confidence, "you're the little VIPs Ningguang paid me a mountain of mora to smuggle into Inazuma. Hop aboard. The tides wait for no one."
As they stepped onto the deck, another figure, who had been standing silently by the ship's railing, turned to look at them. He was a young man with white hair and a striking red streak, dressed in the traditional, elegant attire of Inazuma. A gentle, melancholic wisdom shone in his calm, red eyes. It was Kaedehara Kazuha, the wandering samurai.
His gaze passed over the others before coming to rest, with a profound, almost startling, intensity, on Ren. Beidou, noticing the look, let out a hearty laugh.
"This is the one I was telling you about, Kazuha," she said, clapping a friendly, but heavy, hand on Ren's shoulder. "The little genius from Liyue. The one who, as the stories go, can grant Visions to people almost like a god."
Kazuha's eyes widened slightly. He looked at Ren, at the quiet, unassuming child, and then at the dormant, grayed-out Vision that hung at his hip—the empty shell that had once belonged to his fallen friend. Kazuha was on a journey to understand the nature of Visions, to find a way to reignite the ambition that lay dormant within this memento. And now, he was faced with a boy who had apparently rendered the entire divine system obsolete. The irony was so profound, so cosmically immense, that he could only stare, a thousand unspoken questions in his calm, wise eyes.
Ren met his gaze, and for a moment, a quiet, profound understanding passed between the two of them. The wandering samurai who sought to understand the nature of a god's gift, and the boy from another star who had just made that gift himself.
"The wind is rising," Kazuha said softly, his voice a quiet murmur as he turned to look out at the dark, open sea. "It seems a storm is coming."
He was not talking about the weather. The Alcor raised its anchor and slipped out of the harbor, a silent, ghost ship on a secret, desperate voyage into the heart of the violet tempest: the isolated, storm-wracked, and tyrant-ruled nation of Inazuma.