I was about to speak—which, historically, is always a mistake. Nahida had just finished explaining the broad strokes of Hat Guy's previous incarnation. Evil deeds. Missing heart. Bitter fruit. Very dramatic. Very heavy. Naturally, I opened my mouth to add supportive commentary.
"Okay," I began, raising a finger, "so basically—"
I did not finish that sentence, because Lumine grabbed the back of my collar firmly, and Nilou, smiling sweetly, placed her hands over my mouth—gently, terrifyingly.
If Lumine's glare was a blade, Nilou's smile was a velvet-covered guillotine.
"Let her speak," Lumine said calmly.
I tried to respond. It came out as an offended muffled noise, which did nothing to improve my credibility. Nilou's hands were warm, soft, and very effective.
Paimon hovered closer, peering at me. "This is for everyone's safety," she whispered loudly.
Greg, still perched on Nilou's shoulder, leaned forward slightly just to look me in the eyes and blink once.
Judgment.
I considered my options. Logic? Unlikely. Force? Suicidal. So I chose strategy. I tilted my head slightly and kissed her palm—not dramatic, just enough.
Nilou froze. Her entire expression short-circuited, color rushing to her cheeks instantly.
"Shigeru—" she started, flustered.
Her hands loosened.
Freedom.
I inhaled triumphantly.
"For the record," I said quickly before Lumine could recalibrate her grip, "I support emotional transparency and also you were absolutely a gremlin, Hat Guy."
Paimon made a tiny choking sound midair.
Lumine's fingers twitched like she was debating a second collar grab.
Nahida adjusted herself on my shoulders, fingers absentmindedly playing with my hair as if this was perfectly normal behavior.
Which, for us, it is.
She leaned forward slightly.
"I think," she said softly to Wanderer, "there are still things you deserve to understand."
Her fingers continued idly twirling a strand of my hair. I am being used as both emotional support pillar and Archon seating arrangement.
"I will explain it clearly," she said.
The air in the Sanctuary shifted.
Not dramatic.
Not explosive.
Just… heavier.
Irminsul's glow pulsed faintly above us, like it was listening.
"You were created," Nahida began gently, "not born. Crafted as a prototype puppet by the Electro Archon of Inazuma. You were meant to house a divine heart."
Wanderer did not move.
"You were deemed too gentle," she continued. "Too emotional. So you were set aside."
Nilou's smile faded into something softer.
I stopped trying to escape.
"You awakened alone," Nahida said. "Confused. You did not understand why you had been discarded."
His gaze lowered slightly.
Greg's tail curled once around Nilou's shoulder, unusually still.
"You encountered humans," she went on. "You tried to live among them. You believed you had found connection."
A pause.
"But betrayal followed. Again. And again."
The word didn't echo.
It settled.
"You came to believe that emotions were a flaw," Nahida said. "That attachment only led to suffering. And so you decided that if you lacked a heart… you would prove you never needed one."
My chest tightened.
Because that's the kind of logic that sounds strong until you look at it too long.
Nilou's fingers pressed gently into Greg's back, almost unconsciously, as if grounding herself.
"You joined the Fatui," she continued. "You became one of the Eleven Harbingers. You pursued power. You sought to become a god yourself, believing that divinity would fill the emptiness within you."
I resisted the urge to comment about oversized mechanical suits.
Growth.
"You manipulated. You deceived. You allowed others to suffer in pursuit of your goal," Nahida said softly. "And yet… beneath it all, there was still confusion. Still pain."
Wanderer's fingers curled slightly at his sides.
"You believed the world had wronged you," she said. "You believed you had been abandoned by both gods and humans. That hatred became your anchor."
Silence stretched.
"And in the end," Nahida finished, "when confronted with the consequences of your actions… you chose to erase yourself from Irminsul. You wished to undo the harm you caused. To remove your existence from history."
I swallowed.
Because that part still feels unreal.
"You succeeded only partially," she added gently. "The world adjusted. History shifted. But suffering does not disappear so easily."
Wanderer stood very still.
Very quiet.
Then he spoke.
"I gave everything I had," he said quietly, "but it barely changed history at all."
Nahida inclined her head.
"In terms of the outcome alone… that's true."
He absorbed that.
No denial.
No self-defense.
Just thought.
"…I don't think I can judge everything I've heard purely in terms of right and wrong," he continued. "Each choice belongs to a specific place and time. A chain of cause and effect. A cycle of karma and consequence."
Okay.
That was… mature.
Suspiciously mature.
Paimon slowly lowered her hands. "That was… unexpectedly thoughtful."
Nahida smiled faintly.
"That is the nature of truth," she said. "If one thing is right, its opposite must be wrong. But dichotomies alone are not enough to explain the world."
He nodded slowly.
"Seems like my previous incarnation wasn't the most likable individual."
I immediately leaned forward as far as Lumine's collar grip allowed.
Nilou's hands loosened.
I took my chance.
"Correct," I announced. "Certified gremlin behavior. Elite tier menace. Absolute menace to society. Ten out of ten commitment to chaos. We were not your biggest fans. Very hostile vibes. One out of five stars. Would not recommend."
Greg flicked his tail once as if confirming the rating system.
Paimon coughed awkwardly. "We're not trying to hurt your feelings or anything… But yeah. We weren't exactly cheering for you."
Lumine stepped forward.
"We were enemies," she said quietly.
I leaned around Nilou's shoulder.
"Real enemies," I added helpfully. "Like, I punched you. Greg bit you. Lumine beat me up because I squared up with you alone. Just the basics."
Greg lifted his head proudly.
Wanderer glanced at me.
"…You fought me?"
"Repeatedly."
"And you're helping me now."
"Yes."
He frowned slightly.
"If we were enemies, why are you trying to help me find the truth?"
Lumine didn't answer immediately.
Which is rare.
Nilou answered instead, voice soft but steady. "Because people are not only their worst moments."
That made him look at her.
Paimon groaned midair.
"This is so frustrating!" she burst out. "You're supposed to be our arch-enemy! But now you're just some random guy we met on the street! You've got so much to answer for, but we can't make you talk because you don't remember anything! Ugh, this is such a weird situation!"
Wanderer turned back to Nahida.
"Lesser Lord Kusanali," he said steadily. "As the God of Wisdom… I trust everything you've told me is true?"
"It is," Nahida replied. "I can even show you the memories themselves. If you're willing."
The air tightened.
Irminsul's light shimmered brighter for a brief second.
He didn't hesitate long.
"Please," he said. "I want to see them for myself. I want to experience my own transgressions."
Paimon flailed.
"Wait, are you sure about that!?"
Nahida's voice grew gentler.
"Even if it causes your present self great anguish?"
He stood very still.
"I'm just a puppet," he said quietly. "No heart. No name. There's nothing in this world for me to cling to… except perhaps these sins that can never be undone."
And that sentence— that one hit harder than any boss fight.
Nilou's fingers tightened slightly at my shoulder, and Lumine's gaze sharpened in that quiet, protective way she has when something matters more than she wants to admit. Greg's tail flicked once, slow and deliberate, while Nahida looked at him with something like sorrow.
"…Very well," she said. "As you wish."
Paimon zipped closer to us. "Shouldn't we go with him!? This is kind of on us for dragging him here!"
"Don't worry," Wanderer replied calmly. "Whatever danger I face, it's my burden."
I shook my head slightly. "You don't get to solo the trauma dungeon," I muttered, low enough that only Lumine heard.
Nahida turned her gaze to Lumine. "Traveler," she said softly, "could I ask you to supervise him on my behalf?"
Lumine nodded. "…Okay."
Paimon straightened midair. "Yeah! Given your, um, unique situation, we'd better keep an eye on you!"
He inclined his head slightly. "Understood."
Nahida folded her hands. "Then prepare yourselves."
I clapped once. "Oh right," I muttered. "Here we go again. Another emotionally devastating field trip."
I glanced sideways at Greg, who was still perfectly comfortable on Nilou's shoulders. I squinted at him. He squinted back.
Silent challenge.
"That's my redhead," I declared proudly, gesturing toward Nilou.
Nilou chuckled softly. "Don't compete with Greg," she said gently.
"I am not competing."
"You are absolutely competing."
Lumine sighed—the sigh of a woman who has accepted her fate. "I can hear you plotting," she muttered.
"I am always plotting."
Nahida patted my head lightly. "Try not to disrupt the process," she said kindly.
"I make no promises."
But when the light of Irminsul began to glow brighter around us and the air shifted with the weight of memory, even I shut up. Because jokes are easy. Truth isn't.
And Hat Guy?
He's about to walk straight into his own storm.
Again.
***
Nahida's feet touched the floor lightly as I gently lifted her off my shoulders. For once. Gently. Which, for the record, proves I am capable of character growth when divine beings are involved.
I ruffled her hair. She allowed it. Which means I am still in good standing with the Dendro Archon. That's important—politically, cosmically, romantically, apparently.
I cracked my neck, rolled my shoulders, and took one dramatic step forward. "Alright," I announced, clapping once. "Time to visit Hat Guy's memory and regret every life choice that led us here."
Lumine facepalmed—not violently, just tired. The sigh that followed carried the weight of someone questioning her engagement decisions. I could almost hear the internal monologue: Why did I agree to marry this man again.
Nilou stepped beside her and gently placed her hands on Lumine's shoulders. She smiled—soft, warm, understanding. Lumine looked at her, and there was a quiet exchange there. A shared understanding. We chose him. Yes. That one.
Nilou gave Lumine's shoulders a small reassuring squeeze. "He means well," she murmured softly.
"Debatable," Lumine replied, though her lips twitched faintly.
I squinted at them. "…I feel like I'm being judged," I said slowly.
"You are," Lumine replied flatly.
"Lovingly," Nilou added.
That somehow made it worse.
Greg shifted comfortably on Nilou's shoulders, tail swaying lazily like he was attending a mildly interesting documentary. Traitorous lizard. He flicked his tail once in my direction—confirmed traitor.
We approached the green teleporter. Irminsul's light pulsed softly around it. Wanderer stood quietly, staring at the swirling energy. No hesitation. No bravado. Just resolve—the kind that doesn't announce itself, the kind that just stands there.
I nudged his shoulder lightly. "Ready, Hat Guy?"
He exhaled slowly. "…As I'll ever be."
"Great," I said. "Ten out of ten confidence. Love that for us."
Nilou stepped slightly closer to him. "If it becomes overwhelming," she said gently, "you don't have to face it alone."
He gave her a brief glance. "…I'll remember that."
Nahida's voice remained steady behind us. "Remember," she said gently, "what you are about to see is a reconstruction. A dream formed from your own memories."
I gave her a thumbs up. "Please try not to make it too emotionally devastating."
She smiled. No promises.
Greg leaned forward slightly, eyes narrowing at the teleporter like he expected it to insult him personally.
The light swallowed us.
And then—Inazuma. Gray skies. Wind sharp against the skin. The scent of salt and distant rain. Cold. Lonely. Accurate.
Paimon spun midair. "This looks like Inazuma…" she murmured.
Nilou wrapped her arms around herself slightly, reacting to the chill. "It feels heavier here," she said quietly.
Nahida's voice echoed now, distant and layered, as if the air itself was speaking. "Right now, you are inside a dream I created using the information extracted from your memories. These memories will show you the raw truth. Be aware that enemies may react as they did in reality. Please be careful."
Paimon floated closer to Lumine. "Sounds immersive," she muttered. "Good thing we came along."
Wanderer didn't look at us. "…You don't need to do this for me," he said quietly. "I don't deserve your protection."
Paimon crossed her tiny arms. "We never give up halfway," she declared. Then she paused. "Well. We had to once. But that was your fault."
I nodded sagely. "Yes. Historical inconvenience. Very inconvenient."
Lumine stepped forward. "And now we're finishing the job." There was no hostility in her tone. Just finality.
Wanderer nodded once. "…Alright. Thank you."
That alone told me how different he is. Before, he would've spat something sharp. Now? Gratitude.
Greg flicked his tail once approvingly.
Nahida's voice echoed again. "Wanderer, this is the Shakkei Pavilion. In your Balladeer incarnation, this is where the Electro Archon placed you after your creation. You had many memories here."
The structure loomed before us—elegant, ancient, silent, weathered by wind and time.
Paimon tilted her head. "Is this like… his birthplace?"
"You could say that, in a sense. You'll understand shortly."
Wanderer's gaze lingered on the doorway. "…I hear footsteps," he murmured.
And then the scene unfolded.
A man entered—broad shoulders, steady presence. Katsuragi. His voice echoed through the chamber as he surveyed the structure, commenting on its preservation, its construction, the impossibility of miners building something so refined. Then he noticed the figure on the ground—the puppet, unmoving.
Nilou's fingers instinctively tightened around Greg again.
"…Who are you?" the younger voice asked weakly.
Katsuragi startled and rushed forward, concern evident. You're awake? What happened? Are you hurt?
No suspicion. No fear. Just concern.
I folded my arms. Greg leaned forward slightly, tail still.
Nahida's echo explained calmly, "This man found him and brought him to Tatarasuna. This was the beginning."
Paimon whispered that the rest used to be history. Used to be.
Nahida's tone darkened. "In the original timeline, Katsuragi was killed by Mikoshi Nagamasa."
The scene shifted. We saw the weight of responsibility fall. Niwa's death. The Doctor's manipulation. The kabukimono disappearing. And Katsuragi—loyal, too loyal—choosing death to end the chaos.
The vision faded. Silence returned. The wind echoed faintly through the pavilion.
Paimon hovered closer to Wanderer. "Katsuragi seemed like a good guy," she said softly.
Wanderer's voice was quieter than before. "He looks like a warrior. But he has a kind face." He swallowed. "…Why couldn't he live a long and happy life?"
Nilou answered softly before anyone else could. "Because sometimes the kindest people carry burdens that were never meant for them."
No one corrected her. Because she wasn't wrong.
We moved into the next room. The memory replayed again—Katsuragi presenting the nameless puppet to Mikoshi Nagamasa. Discussion. Naming him. The kabukimono.
Wanderer watched his own past self accept the name without hesitation. That simplicity. That willingness to belong. It hurt more than the villain arc because it showed the beginning—when he wasn't angry yet, when he was just… lost.
I glanced at Lumine. She noticed it too.
Paimon looked confused as the scene looped back toward the teleporter. "Huh? Why are we back here?"
I cracked my knuckles lightly and grinned. "Aight. Revelation part two."
Lumine shot me a look. Not now.
I raised my hands. Fine.
But I couldn't help glancing at Wanderer. He wasn't reacting loudly—no dramatic outburst, no denial. He was absorbing everything like a sponge left too long in a sink, soaking in water that isn't clean and still not wringing itself out.
Greg shifted slightly, his tail brushing Nilou's arm as if sensing the weight in the air. She reached up and gently stroked his head.
I stepped beside him. "Hey," I said quietly this time. No jokes. "You're not that version anymore."
He didn't look at me. "I know," he replied. "But I was."
And that's the part that lingers.
The wind shifted through the pavilion, the past waiting to unfold further. Lumine stood steady, watching—always watching. Paimon hovered a little closer than usual. Nilou remained calm, soft, grounded.
I exhaled slowly.
Alright.
Here we go again.
Another storm.
And this time?
We're walking straight through it.
Together.
____________
End of Chapter 168
Quests Completed:
*Attempted to summarize an ex-Harbinger's moral collapse mid-divine explanation. Immediately silenced for public safety.
*Escaped mouth-cover restraint using tactical affection. Side effect: Nilou.exe temporarily malfunctioned.
*Delivered honest review of "Previous Incarnation: Menace Edition" with a one-star rating and zero hesitation.
*Watched Wanderer request full access to his own sins without flinching. Emotional durability confirmed.
*Agreed to escort subject into a reconstructed trauma dreamscape. No hesitation. Minimal sarcasm (temporary).
*Entered Shakkei Pavilion Memory Instance without triggering boss music. Suspicious.
*Witnessed Katsuragi's kindness in 4K emotional resolution. Squad stability shaken but intact.
*Observed Wanderer react with quiet grief instead of rage. Behavioral divergence logged.
*Resisted making a mechanical suit joke during Fatui flashback. Character development unlocked.
*Functioned as emotional anchor while pretending to be comedic relief. Structural integrity maintained.
Rewards:
*Primogems: +168 (awarded for surviving Memory Reconstruction Instance without imploding).
*Friendship EXP +180 with Wanderer — for staying when you could have joked your way out.
*Friendship EXP +175 with Nilou — for quiet grounding during historical devastation.
*Friendship EXP +165 with Lumine — for choosing to walk beside him instead of ahead of him.
*Greg Respect +2 (rare stack). He did not abandon your shoulder mid-crisis.
*Buff: Trauma Co-Op Mode – Allies within proximity gain +30% emotional resistance during memory dives.
*Buff: Quiet Support Protocol – Jokes auto-suppressed during high-weight revelations (limited duration).
*Passive Unlocked: Walk Through It Together – When someone faces their past alone, you instinctively step forward.
*Passive Upgraded: Petalbound Resolve II – You can no longer tolerate self-blame without intervention.
*+50 Existential Weight (Stacking).
*+1 "He Was" Realization — permanent.
*Cold Wind Residue — temporary emotional chill.