With a sensation like a soft, gentle blink, the infinite, twilight expanse of the Plane of Euthymia vanished, and the bright, noisy, and chaotic reality of the Ritou docks slammed back into Ren's senses. He was standing in the exact same spot, the salty air and the cries of gulls replacing the perfect, sterile silence. Time, in the outside world, had barely moved; the sun was still high in the afternoon sky.
Before him stood the Raiden Shogun. Her divine, puppet-like form was as still and as emotionless as before, but Ren, now knowing the thoughtful, conflicted, and surprisingly amused god who resided within, saw her in an entirely new light.
Ganyu and Lumine were still frozen in their defensive stances, the entire, tense standoff held in a state of suspended animation.
The Shogun slowly, deliberately, lowered her hand. The Musou no Hitotachi, the sword that could sunder reality, dissolved into a shower of violet, electrical particles and vanished.
Her cold, amethyst gaze then shifted from Ren and fell upon the terrified, still-kneeling officials of the Kanjou Commission.
Her voice, when she spoke, was not the whisper of Ei, but the clear, cold, and absolute command of the Shogun, an edict that was as final and as unarguable as a bolt of lightning from a clear sky.
"Tenryou Commission," she stated, her voice echoing with a divine, terrifying authority, though no soldiers were immediately visible. She was speaking to the very air, confident that her will would be done. "Take these men into custody. Conduct a thorough investigation into the financial practices of the Kanjou Commission. I want a full report on my desk. See to it that justice is… administered."
The word "administered" was delivered with a chilling finality that promised a fate far worse than a simple fine. The corrupt officials, their faces ashen, began to tremble uncontrollably. A moment later, a squad of heavily armed, mask-wearing soldiers of the Tenryou Commission seemed to materialize from the shadows, their movements swift and silent. They hauled the whimpering, disgraced officials to their feet and dragged them away without a word.
The problem of the "processing fee" had been solved, permanently.
The Shogun's emotionless gaze then returned to Ren. The oppressive, world-crushing aura of power had receded, but her presence was still an immense, weighty thing.
"You," she declared, her voice a flat, imperial command. "The inventor. Your presence in Inazuma is a matter of state concern. You will present yourself at the Tenshukaku tomorrow morning. We have matters to discuss."
It was not a request. It was a summons.
And before Ren could even form a reply, before Ganyu could protest or Lumine could ask a question, the Raiden Shogun vanished. She didn't walk or even move. One moment she was there, a divine, terrifying reality. The next, a flash of electro. The air where she had stood crackled with a faint, residual trace of ozone, the only evidence that she had been there at all.
A collective, shuddering breath was released by everyone on the docks. The tension that had held them all in its grip finally, blessedly, snapped.
Ganyu rushed to Ren's side, her hands fluttering over him, checking for injuries he did not have. "Ren! Are you alright? What happened? There was a flash of light, she just… slashed at the air, and then…"
"I'm fine, big sister," he reassured her, his voice calm. He looked towards the towering, majestic silhouette of the Tenshukaku, the Shogun's palace, in the distance. "I… I think we just had a very productive conversation."
Lumine and Paimon stared at him, their expressions a mixture of awe, relief, and utter, profound confusion. He had just gone head-to-head with a god, and had not only survived, but had seemingly walked away with a personal invitation to her palace.
The quiet, strange, and impossibly powerful little boy from Liyue had just, once again, done the impossible.