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They’re all gone, Miko.
You’re all I have left.
Are you going to leave too?
Please don’t go.
**
Crafting the Raiden Shogun is the worst experience of your immortal life. Too craft something that is your exact mirror, to remake Makoto’s feature into a lifeless doll, a mockery to all she ever was. But it must be done. You have lost enough to the passage of time. Inazuma will not lose like you have.
Miko calls you a fool, but it’s fine, she will be spared. She must be. Eternity will be Inazuma’s salvation.
What would Makoto think of you now?
It doesn’t matter. Makoto is—
Never mind. Stop it, Ei. Do not be distracted from your duty.
You wash yourself every day since the Cataclysm. You are an Archon now; you need not indulge in mortal rituals. You don’t. You shouldn’t. No matter how many times you wash yourself the weight of Makoto’s blood never leaves your arms.
It’s sickening. You scrub and scrub until you bleed ions and electric charge, just like she did when the light left her eyes and you pulled her to you, closer, closer, closer, but it’s never going to be enough. You can’t feel her warmth anymore. Why doesn’t it just go away? The Gnosis fixes all of it in minutes.
Is this your Eternity, Ei? An Ouroboros of grief where you drown in your misery all alone? Your sister will always die in your arms. Sasayuri will be killed under your command, Chiyo dead to your blade, and Saiguu being torn apart alone. This is your Eternity? Is it truly salvation you long for, Ei? You know that weapons and shadows of a dead lightning’s glow are not weighed in front of the Heavenly Principles, Ei, what is there in you to save?
Tenshukaku is silent, you have banished your servants, no one except Miko shall be aware of the puppet’s creation. They will still have their Archon. The Shogun is an extension of your will. You will still rule Makoto’s Inazuma. But what of Miko?
Yae Miko, Guuji Yae, Head of the Narukami shrine.
Who is she to you, Ei?
You ponder this, before sealing the flesh onto the puppet and sowing divinity in its bones. It is a perfect creation; it will enforce your Eternity while you rest in your Plane of Euthymia. Frozen in time, like nation like Archon.
The Shogun will be you.
But this time…she will be right.
Yae Miko, Guuji Yae, Head of the Narukami shrine, your familiar, oath sealed in blood with the promise to forever remain by your side.
Makoto promised that once.
Makoto is—
You shake off that thought. Time takes all, that is the laws of this world, and you will defy it yourself. You are a warrior, and you are now crafting your weapon to fight against time itself. To freeze Makoto’s beloved Inazuma in an unchanging, deathless Eternity. This is the answer.
(Miko still called you a fool. But that is fine, be it anyone else you would have them face your thunderous wrath, but this is Miko. She can say whatever she wishes about you.)
(She is still breathing. She is still here. You haven’t lost her yet, Ei, so what are you doing now?)
**
Guuji Yae,
I am not one for many words. That has always been Makoto. But nonetheless, I am writing you a letter. You had told me before, haven’t you, that if I could not convey my message with my voice, I could do so with words onto a piece of paper. Yet, I still find myself at a loss.
I never got to say goodbye to them.
I don’t wish to say goodbye to you.
Miko,
I have come across many mortals in my long life, and I have found out that most, if not all, believe in an afterlife.
That is where they go when they die. Saiguu told me once, that the kitsune are spirits of the land, once you pass on, your body and souls return to the earth, leaving behind only lingering memories and fragments of who they were to comfort the ones who lost you. There is no afterlife for you.
Where do you think gods go?
When I create my lightning, it sends itself out as an electric charge, looking for it's opposite. It's other half. The lightning dies when it is complete. I wish for a deathless Eternity for Inazuma, but I could not help but contemplate where I shall go when I pass. The Shogun’s construction is nearly complete, it shall be Inazuma’s eternal protector in my stead.
Perhaps I will grow numb as the electrons leave my body. My days shall slow until I am unable to move at all, my body disintegrated, but my mind alive, my consciousness will be stuck in an eternal limbo of dying but not true death. It could be Eternity, I suppose. When gods die, Miko, they do not die completely, in Liyue they leave behind twisted reflections of who they are in life. In Inazuma, I think they leave behind a curse. Kannazuka reeks of a serpent’s coil.
Perhaps I will simply close my eyes and never open them again. Like how mortals fall asleep. A dark void where I am nothing yet everything. Is that Eternity?
But if I am allowed a wish, I hope that I will go wherever you do, Miko.
**
Your final act of creation is giving it a core. You have no need for a Gnosis, so neither will your vessel, instead, it’s a glowing core, brimming with Electro energy, you can smell the ozone before you can feel the sparks of electricity as it tries to burn you, its maker. Building it into the puppet is no problem, sealing its chest shut, you step back.
And you wait.
The automation wakes up, blinking with intelligence, just like how you had created it to be. Your plans for Inazuma laid out in front of it. It waits for your command. You tell it of Makoto, of Eternity, of its creation, it is silent and obedient like you were when you were nothing but a shadow, a double, a spare. Good. You had made it right. When you finish telling the puppet of Inazuma’s future, it only has one question for you.
“There is no turning back from forsaking your form. Do you regret nothing?”
You stare into its eyes, your eyes, Makoto’s eyes. It does not flinch from being under the gaze of a god. It has the same color you and Makoto shared, but none of her kind light. It was created to be intelligent, but a newborn cannot be wise, can know your grief but never share it. It looks at you with curiosity and reverence, as it is nothing but a tool to its master. Exactly how you should have been to Makoto. Maybe then—never mind. You look away.
“Your existence is my answer.”
You don’t wait for a reply.
You close your eyes, transferring your consciousness into the blade.
The Plane of Euthymia shifts into your desired state, a blank piece of land, where nothing can disturb you from your meditation.
“How bland,” Miko says from beside you, “Is this truly the state of your mind, Ei?”
There is a hidden question in her query, one you will truthfully answer. Be it Miko, or a figment of her your mind conjured, you would give her anything she asked.
“It is my Eternity, Miko,” you reply, fool that you are, talking to someone who isn’t truly there, “of course you’d be here with me.”
You had memorized every part of her, the shades of cherry blossom in her hair, the slant of her eyes, the slope of her neck where it dips into her collarbone. She is as beautiful as ever. In the crook of her neck, you had found someone that even an Archon could worship, your mind has made her up, as you long for her so. Or is she truly here in this realm?
Ah—there is no reply, this realm shifts to however you desire, and you do not want to think of how she’d answer. It is not cowardice, you tell yourself, you did not tell her goodbye because there was no need. You would meet again when Inazuma is safe. You have always been a horrible liar, Ei.
Nevertheless, you make your way to the center to start your meditation. Your pursuit of Eternity shall not stop.
**
“Aren’t you afraid I might just sell it off?” Miko teases, though it is not as cheerful as it was when Saiguu was still here.
It is a joke, but you truly doubt you’d find fault in any of her actions, as she has stood by you, too, despite the blood of countless on your hands, most that you don’t remember, and even more that you don’t regret.
You are about to tell her so, before your heart stutters and your sentences pause. It would be cruel to say that, you think, it would be cruel to remind her of times when things were better. To give her hope that things will get better. The path to Eternity is a burden you will bear alone; it will be cruel to drag Miko into it.
(You want to ask her to accompany you, as she had before, you long for her presence more than anything else. Her hand is so close, and if you could just take it and pull her close. But you have done countless things she disapproves of, maybe asking for her would be the last straw. And she’ll walk away, disappearing in the chaos of the storm, and it will truly be you and that lone Sakura tree left to hold the memories. What would you do then? You’ve lost Makoto, your other half, you can’t lose Miko too, if you could just walk away first, and not look back, it will mean nothing to you if she left because you would have left first and it would be fair and expected. She is so close, but you are the one who’s too far away.)
Instead, you tell her, "You understand the value of a Gnosis. Even if you sold it, I trust that you would have exchanged it for something of equal value, and that is no easy price to pay."
And it’s true, she is the most cunning being you’ve ever met, and even if it weren’t for that, you’d gladly rip out your heart and rest it in her hands either way.
Miko smiles at you, gentler, now, you wonder if she’d still do the same should she know of your plan and the Plane of Euthymia. You don’t want to find out.
“Well, this is your idea, not mine, don’t end up regretting this, now.”
You try to give her a smile back. It comes easily, it is not often that you are one step ahead of her, the truth is simple: you’d never regret anything with her. It’s no shameful secret, but one you wish to keep to yourself, no one needs to know just yet.
**
The dream comes with the scent of spring, and Sakura blossoms floating in the air. You open your eyes to Makoto standing in front of you. Before you knew it, your hand had reached out to her, as if she would be blown away like the flowers.
She stays solid and you throw yourself over her, burying your face in her shoulder.
“Makoto,” you whisper, your voice hoarse with tears, “Makoto. I missed you so much.”
She holds you back, her touch lighter than silk. She isn’t here, not truly, her hands should be warm and solid, but they ghost over your back and you are afraid that any second now, they’d disappear, and you will lose her all over again. Instead, they gently pat your back and you hold onto her tighter. You haven’t done that in so long. You miss her so much.
“Ei,” her voice flutters as the butterfly disappears into the sunset, “you have to go now.”
You grip onto the back of her kimono, breathing in the smell of wisteria and petrichor and was always Makoto’s.
“I don’t want to wake up.”
You think she’s smiling, next to you, wistful and melancholy, as flower petals peel off her form and she disappears into the winds. You are alone once again.
Under the shade of the Thunder Sakura where you had shared countless precious memories, you stand alone, the sole survivor of this tragedy.
Except—that isn’t quite right.
Arms wrap around your collar as a head comes to rest on your shoulder. Ah. Miko. You are about to ask her why she’s here, before you remember that this is nothing but a dream. How sweet of your mind, to give you your beloved, despite you being the one who left. You doubt she’d want to have anything to do with you now.
“Rest, Ei,” Miko’s voice lulls you into a daze, have you been tired this whole time? “I’ll be here until you wake up.”
You bring your hand to hers, and before your awareness fades, you entwin your fingers and hope that she’ll be here once more.
**
You do not know how much time has passed, but before you know it, a traveler has entered your plane twice, challenging your Eternity, claiming to be the voice of your people. How foolish. You are about to strike them down once more before a spark catches your attention. You turn upwards as the skies shine with millions of stars, and Miko is now in your plane.
Oh, it must have been so long since you’ve seen her in the flesh, she is just as beautiful as she was five hundred years ago. Of course, she’d bring the stars to light up your night sky. Your chest beats with a heart it does not have as she walks towards you, despite the distance you have made, despite the fact that you walked away.
“Miko,” you say, reverent, a worshipper to her god, a sinner to her savior.
Miko smiles at you like she has figured you out in the five hundred years you’ve been away, like she is looking at Raiden Ei, sister, warrior, Archon, not the kagemusha, the shadow of a lightning long gone. She is your religion as she parts her lips and grants you the greatest mercy of her love and acceptance:
“Eternity is too cruel of a fate for you, Ei.”
Up above, the stars shine, and life beats itself back into your soul once more.