While Ren was being cocooned in a loving, well-fed sanctuary on Mt. Yougou, the gears of the state continued to grind in the city below. In the cold, imposing halls of the Tenshukaku, Kujou Sara, the loyal and fiercely efficient general of the Tenryou Commission, was consumed by her new, singular mandate: to hunt down the fugitive Traveler, Lumine, and her accomplice, Thoma. The city was under a state of heightened alert, every shadow scrutinized, every rumor pursued.
But in the silent, vast, and empty throne room, the Raiden Shogun sat alone, engaged in a different, far more complex, and internal battle.
For days, her perfect, logical, and unchanging programming had been running a diagnostic on a single, catastrophic system error: her own hesitation.
She replayed the moment in her perfect, eidetic memory. The Traveler, the anomaly, the enemy of Eternity, lay defeated at her feet. The Musou no Hitotachi was raised, the final, logical, and necessary command to "erase the variable" about to be executed. And then… the second anomaly, the child, Ren, had appeared. He had stood before her, a fragile, defiant, and utterly illogical shield.
And she had frozen.
Her programming, the flawless, five-hundred-year-old protocol for the defense of Eternity, had simply… stopped. The command to strike had been issued, but the action had not been carried out. It was an inconsistency, a glitch in her perfect, eternal system.
Why? The question echoed in the silent, logical pathways of her consciousness. Why was this one unable to execute the command?
The logical course of action, she calculated, was simple. The boy, by aiding a fugitive, by interfering with a divine judgment, had also become a threat. The most efficient, most logical solution was to erase them both. Eliminate the variables. Restore the equation to its perfect, stable state.
And yet… she could not. The very thought of raising her blade to that child, to those glowing, trusting azure eyes, was a command her system was now fundamentally, inexplicably, incapable of executing. It was a flaw. It was a change. And change was the ultimate enemy.
As she sat, locked in this silent, internal paradox, a guard approached, his footsteps echoing in the vast, empty hall. He knelt, his head bowed.
"Shogun-sama," he announced, his voice trembling slightly in the overwhelming presence of his god. "A diplomat from Snezhnaya has arrived. The Lady Signora, Eighth of the Fatui Harbingers. She requests an audience, to discuss the future of diplomatic relations between our two nations."
La Signora. The Fatui.
A new set of variables, a new data point, was introduced into her complex, wavering equation. She remembered the words of the boy, spoken to her other self, the one within. The words about the Fatui, about their encroachment, about their secret, cancerous presence within her perfect, eternal nation.
A closer look is necessary, a new, logical directive formed in her mind.
This was an opportunity. An opportunity to observe, to analyze, to gather data on this other, more insidious, threat.
"Schedule the meeting," the Shogun's voice commanded, its tone as cold and as emotionless as ever. "Tomorrow morning."
She then added a second, even more surprising, command. "And send a personal invitation to the boy, Ren. Inform him that his presence is required in the court at the same time."
The guard, his face a mask of stunned disbelief, simply bowed and hurried off to obey.
The Shogun's logic was cold, multifaceted, and brilliant. The meeting with the Harbinger would allow her to directly assess the Fatui's goals and aims. And Ren's presence… his presence would serve two purposes.
First, it would allow her to continue her analysis of the anomaly, to observe her own system's reaction to him in a controlled, high-stakes environment. Was her hesitation a permanent flaw, or a temporary glitch?
And second… it was a test. A final, ultimate test of the boy himself. He had spoken of the Fatui as a threat. Now, he would be faced with one of their most powerful and ruthless agents. His reactions, his words, his very presence, would reveal his true nature.
And if, in the course of this meeting, the boy was found to be a threat to her nation, if his presence was revealed to be a part of some grand, chaotic scheme… then the glitch in her programming would be irrelevant.
Because if Ren was proven to be a true, undeniable enemy of Eternity, then the guardian of that Eternity, the Raiden Shogun, would finally have her reason. And she would not hesitate again.