Amidst the peaceful, happy days of training and city tours, a piece of news, as welcome and as refreshing as a cool, summer breeze, arrived from Liyue. Ganyu was in the middle of her nightly, now much calmer, call with Xianyun, when a look of profound, unadulterated relief washed over her face.
"He's gone," she whispered to Ren, the moment the call ended, her amethyst eyes shining with a brilliant, happy light. "Master says her watchers have confirmed it. Dottore has left his northern stronghold. He has left Liyue."
The patient, strategic, and very quiet, war was over. Ren's audacious gambit had worked perfectly. With the inventor, the primary target, gone, and the technology now a well-guarded state secret, the monstrous Doctor had indeed, just as Ren had predicted, gotten bored. The spider had abandoned its web.
A deep, collective sigh of relief seemed to pass through their small, Liyuean family. The final, lingering shadow that had hung over them was finally, blessedly, gone.
"It's time," Ganyu said, her voice full of a new, happy, and homesick, longing. "It's time to go home, Ren."
Ren nodded, a bright, genuine smile on his face. He loved Inazuma, he loved the new friends he had made, but his heart ached for the familiar, bustling streets of Liyue, for the quiet wisdom of Madam Ping, for the explosive, delicious chaos of Xiangling's cooking. "Yes," he said. "I miss home."
While Ganyu, with the help of the Yashiro Commission, contacted Captain Beidou to arrange for their return voyage, Ren embarked on his own, personal, and very high-speed, farewell tour.
He no longer needed his hoverboard. With his newfound mastery over his Electro abilities, he was his own vehicle. He would dissolve into a crackling, violet bolt of lightning, a form of flight that was faster, more agile, and infinitely more spectacular.
His first stop was the Kamisato Estate. He found Ayaka and Ayato in their serene, beautiful garden. He told them of his plans to return to Liyue, and was immediately met with a look of profound, and very genuine, sadness on Ayaka's face. She gave him a final, lingering hug, making him promise, once again, to visit very soon. Ayato, in his usual, calm, and unnervingly perceptive way, simply smiled. "Liyue is fortunate to have you," was all he said, a statement that held a universe of unspoken, strategic meaning.
Next, he zipped over to Hanamizaka, appearing in a flash of harmless, violet lightning in front of the Naganohara Fireworks shop, much to the delighted surprise of Yoimiya, who was in the middle of designing a new, even more spectacular, firework. Her farewell was a loud, cheerful, and slightly tearful, affair, culminating in her gifting him a massive, beautifully crafted firework that she had named "The Prince of Thunder's shining glow."
His visit to the Grand Narukami Shrine was, as expected, the most dramatic. He found Yae Miko in her study, and the moment he told her he was leaving, her playful, foxy smile was replaced by a magnificent, theatrical, and utterly insincere, pout.
"Leaving?" she said, her voice a wounded, tragic whisper. "So soon? And after all this time, you never even came back to stay at the shrine. You just stayed in that big, cold, boring castle." She dabbed at a nonexistent tear with the corner of her sleeve. "It's clear now. You like Ei more than you like me."
Ren, now well-versed in the art of Miko's dramatic manipulations, simply smiled. "That's not true, Lady Yae. You know you're my favorite kitsune."
Her pout instantly vanished, replaced by a smug, satisfied smirk. "Well, of course I am," she said, before pulling him into a final, warm, and surprisingly sincere, hug. "Do be a dear and cause some interesting trouble in Liyue for me, won't you? It's so dreadfully boring when you're not around."
His final, and most important, farewell in the city was at the Tenshukaku. He found Ei in their usual, quiet garden. He told her of his plans, and a look of genuine, profound, and deeply, deeply, sad, understanding entered her amethyst eyes. She said nothing for a long time. She simply reached out and gently, lovingly, placed her hand on his head, a silent, final gesture of her immense, and now very personal, affection.
"The path you walk is a strange and wonderful one, Ren," she said finally, her voice a soft, quiet whisper. "Go home. Liyue needs its prince."
She then closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them, the soft, melancholic warmth of Ei was gone, replaced by the cold, divine stillness of the Raiden Shogun.
The puppet, the guardian of Eternity, looked down at him, her expression, for the first time, not one of impassive indifference, but of a strange, almost protective, solemnity.
"Take care of yourself," the Shogun's voice stated, a divine, emotionless, but strangely, profoundly, sincere, command. "Should you ever require the aid of this one, of this nation, in the future… you need only call. And I will be by your side. No matter the distance."
It was a promise. A divine, eternal, and utterly unshakeable, promise. A debt of honor, from a god to the mortal child who had, against all odds, saved her, in more ways than one.