As night fell, Kujou Sara carried a massive food chest up to the highest chamber of Tenshukaku.
Thanks to Yae Miko's instructions, she did not have to wander room by room in search.
And with the city darkening, only one chamber still glowed with lamplight—easy enough to find.
She had taken the meal duty upon herself, with a private hope.
Even if she could not glimpse the god, perhaps she could at least learn something from Kamisato Ayaka.
"Honored god, the evening meal is prepared. Shall I bring it inside?"
She knocked gently, but dared not peek within.
Yae Miko's warning still rang sharp in her ears.
"Lady Kujou, please set the tray down and depart."
The voice that answered was Ayaka's.
"…I understand."
So Ayaka was inside as well.
Even knowing she likely spoke on the god's behalf, Sara's heart remained unwilling.
Her steps away from the door were slow, every pace reluctant.
Just as impatience nearly consumed her, the door opened.
Ayaka appeared—then shut it hastily again, upon spotting Sara nearby.
She feared the girl might glimpse the scene within.
For if this loyal retainer of the Shogun saw that ruin… Would she not lose all reason, and throw her life against Su Ran in futile vengeance?
That would not only mean her death, but plunge Inazuma deeper into disaster.
Even without Yae Miko's warning, Ayaka understood.
She was innocent at heart, yes— but far from a fool.
"Lady Kujou," she said through the door, "I know what you wish to hear.
All I can say is this: the Shogun still lives."
A whole afternoon spent in Su Ran's company had dulled Ayaka's fear.
If not friendship, at least she no longer trembled before him.
"Then… is the Shogun well?"
Alive did not mean unscathed.
Sara's sharp eyes caught the strain in Ayaka's face; her heart sank.
"…Not well," Ayaka admitted softly.
"But alive. And still able to guide Inazuma in time to come."
She did not dare speak the whole truth.
If she shattered Sara's faith, the girl might collapse entirely.
"…"
Yet the words only tightened Sara's worry.
The invincible general in her heart had fallen.
Only the barest assurance remained: still alive, still Inazuma's god.
"…May I see her?"
Ayaka shook her head.
"I understand…"
With that, Sara turned away at last.
Disappointed, but not empty-handed.
She now knew more than before.
And though the news was grim, it was still, in its way, good news: the Shogun remained.
As long as she remained, Inazuma had not yet fallen.
Watching Sara's silhouette vanish, Ayaka finally exhaled in relief.
The Shogun's most devoted admirer was gone.
Because not all she had spoken was truth.
The real Archon was indeed unharmed.
But the puppet who had ruled Inazuma for five centuries— her state was death in all but name.
Not a life ended, but a vessel broken.
And Ayaka had barred Sara from entering, not because Su Ran forbade it.
On the contrary, he would have allowed it.
But one look at the scattered remnants of the Shogun's body would have driven the loyal girl into madness.
Ayaka returned to the door, lifted the chest inside.
"I think I'm beginning to understand," Su Ran murmured, holding the puppet's severed head in his hands.
He had finally unraveled its construction.
One could not deny Ei's genius.
The puppet was astonishingly lifelike— in every respect.
So much so that Su Ran wondered: had she truly considered all that entailed?
And it was not mere realism.
This vessel had been built to bear the power of a god.
That alone proved Ei's craft outstripped even Dottore's.
Not that he held the Fatui doctor in high regard— his creations were machines trapped in rigid cycles, prone to collapse under their own flaws.
Yet this imperfect puppet had endured centuries, holding Inazuma together.
Perhaps only because Raiden Makoto had left such a rich legacy, or perhaps because Yae Miko had labored ceaselessly behind the throne.
"Lord Su Ran, dinner is here," Ayaka said at last.
After their afternoon together, she no longer trembled to speak his name aloud.
If one measured in the terms of "favorability," hers had climbed to at least forty.
"Then let's eat together," he replied.
By divine beauty, Ayaka could not match the Tsaritsa or Columbina.
They were gods and shades, born with otherworldly grace.
A mortal body could not compare.
But Ayaka's looks… happened to strike Su Ran's own taste exactly.
That gave her an edge none could match.
"As I expected—you didn't dare let her inside," Su Ran chuckled.
He had almost wanted to see Sara's face when confronted with the Shogun's ruin.
A pity.
"She would have broken," Ayaka whispered.
She knew the truth.
When she first climbed Tenshukaku, she had thought herself unafraid of death.
But when her faith was shattered before her eyes— and shattered so cruelly— the fear had nearly undone her.
Had it been Kujou Sara, so fanatical in her devotion, the result would have been far worse.