Nilou threw herself into Yilan's arms, but quickly pulled away. Her blue eyes flickered with nervousness, her face slightly flushed as she looked at him and asked cautiously:
"You… you're here to collect the 'price'? But my parents might not be asleep yet. Could you wait a little longer—"
Before she could finish, Yilan gently pulled her back into his embrace. She let out a few surprised gasps, "Eh? Eh?" and mumbled:
"Well, if you're that eager… Just don't make too much noise…"
"—There's no need for any price anymore."
Nilou's soft, flustered words could have stirred any man's desire, but Yilan simply rested his chin on her shoulder, whispered that line, and followed with:
"Sorry."
That was the reason he had asked Nahida for help, and why he wanted to meet Nilou before the final battle.
Whether it was within the simulator or in reality, he owed Nilou an apology.
"Why are you apologizing to me?"
Any other woman close to Yilan might have sensed the deeper meaning behind his words.
But Nilou, being who she was—pure-hearted and earnest—didn't understand.
Yilan didn't tease her like he used to. Instead, he held her gently, comforting her in silence.
"If you don't understand, then don't worry about it. Let's forget the unpleasant things from before."
He slowly released her from the hug, took her hand in his, and looked into her eyes with warmth.
"Nilou, will you be my girlfriend?"
She covered her mouth in surprise. "But… just repaying you isn't enough…"
"It's more than enough."
"Eh—?!"
Nilou looked up at him, her wide eyes reflecting the stars, as though he were her whole sky.
"Yilan, you—"
"I once fell into darkness… but someone as clumsy and kind as you pulled me back. So now, you have to take responsibility for me," he said with a crooked smile.
Tears began to well up in her eyes. Her voice trembled. "…My clumsy way really worked?"
"It did," Yilan nodded, his smile gentle. "I don't even know how to thank you."
"——"
Nilou shook her head fiercely and simply gazed at him.
Tears rolled down her cheeks, but she was smiling—genuinely, radiantly.
"Seeing you return to the Yilan I remember… That's the best gift you could give me."
Yilan felt something tender and fragile stir in his chest. He pulled her into a tight hug.
Nilou, pressed close against him, could hear the creak of her own bones, but she felt no pain. Only happiness. She buried her face in his chest, fingers curling into the fabric on his back.
If she were anyone else, she might have questioned how Yilan had known her thoughts so clearly, how he had entered her dreams.
But Nilou never doubted. She didn't think about those things.
To her, the feelings and the result were enough.
The two stayed embraced for a long time before finally separating. Yilan brushed a hand across her cheek with affection.
"You've lost weight."
"No way." Nilou looked a little flustered. "As a dancer, I'm supposed to keep a lean figure…"
"But I'd still like it if you were a little softer."
He gently touched her thigh, encircled by golden leg rings. "I remember they used to squeeze out just a little flesh before… but now it's all gone."
"Then I'll eat more!" Nilou replied without hesitation. "Losing weight is hard, but gaining a little is easy!"
Her innocent enthusiasm made Yilan smile.
"By the way, Yilan… you haven't seen me dance in a long time. Let me perform for you!"
"Of course." Yilan had dearly missed her dancing.
After his agreement, Nilou stood from the bed—and suddenly, the room transformed into the Zubayr Theater stage. She didn't question the change; her heart had already accepted this as a dream where anything was possible.
She stepped onto the familiar wooden floor. Yilan remained in the audience.
Just like the first time.
She looked into his eyes, dancing just for him.
He watched, applauding only for her.
If only life could remain like that first meeting.
Then, the scene shifted again.
Yilan now stood beneath a clear blue sky. White clouds drifted overhead, snowflakes floated gently down, and the ground reflected the sky like a tranquil mirror. It was a dreamscape of water and light, breathtakingly pure.
In the center stood Nilou, wearing her Flower Goddess costume, smiling mischievously.
She began to dance.
Her bare feet kissed the water like crystal butterflies. Each step sent ripples across the surface, and wherever she moved, Padisarahs bloomed.
Birds and butterflies danced around her. Waves rose and shimmered to accompany her rhythm. It was a sight so beautiful, no words could describe it.
Yilan knew: this was Nilou's dream.
Dreams in Sumeru often reflected the subconscious. In this lucid moment, she was expressing all the love and hope within her heart—through dance.
It was the most beautiful dance in the world.
And it was meant only for him.
"I just wanted to say goodbye before the final battle… and yet, here you are, lifting me up again."
If one were to quantify it like data from a simulation: Yilan's morale and fighting spirit had been fully restored.
He chuckled, and as Nilou continued her graceful performance, his form began to fade into glimmering particles of light.
"Yilan!"
Nilou cried out and reached for him—but the moment her hands passed through him, she awoke.
She was back in bed.
It had been a dream.
But…
As is well known, the people of Sumeru typically do not dream.
So…
The girl sat upright, pressed her palms together, and whispered in the most devout voice:
"This must have been a revelation from you, Little Lord Kusanali… Next time we meet, Yilan will return to who he once was. And we'll be as happy as the prince and princess in the stories."
At that same moment, in his study, Yilan's soul returned to his body. He opened his eyes, a look of calm determination settling over him.
"…It's time for the final battle to begin."
***
The cunning Doctor
(First chapter was a bit short…)
Yilan walked out of the villa. Night had fallen, and a brilliant galaxy stretched across the sky of Teyvat.
The stars shone all the more brightly amidst the darkness.
Looking up at the heavens, Yilan couldn't help but muse—
If Nilou was the shining star in the sky, then was he the one destined to protect her from the shadows?
It was a childish thought, perhaps, but somehow, it brought him comfort.
He stepped forward into the night, making his way toward the House of the Decree.
Deep within it was the Deus Ex Machina Workshop—the secret base where the sages, along with the Doctor, had worked on their plan to create a god.
Though it was already late, as the heart of Sumeru's authority, the House of the Decree remained heavily guarded.
Yet these guards were not scholars or loyal troops—they were hired mercenaries from the Corps of Thirty.
It was laughable.
Even Mondstadt, for all its looseness, still maintained the Knights of Favonius.
But Sumeru, the realm of wisdom, had no army of its own.
Did the sages, so immersed in theoretical knowledge, ever consider what might happen if someone outbid them for their own mercenaries?
This was why the sages had to step down—why Nahida had to take her rightful place.
Yilan passed through the checkpoints without resistance.
He entered the Deus Ex Machina Workshop, walking straight to the chamber where the Doctor was working.
He spoke of a new idea, proposing they test it together in the core dome chamber—where the modified Scaramouche unit was located.
Though it might seem suspicious to an outsider, it was plausible.
After all, Yilan had worked alongside the Doctor for some time now, assisting in the development of their so-called "God Project."
It was not strange to have a sudden revelation and seek immediate verification.
But once they arrived beneath the dome, where the towering mecha form of the former Balladeer stood, the Doctor gazed upward, smirked slightly, and said:
"I didn't expect you, Yilan, to betray me. I thought we were of the same kind. Tell me—what made you turn against me?"
Yilan didn't answer. He wasn't surprised the Doctor had caught on.
The hidden override systems Dottore had implanted within the mecha were gone—erased.
And in all of Sumeru, only Yilan had the expertise and clearance to accomplish that.
It wasn't until now, however, that the Doctor had realized the betrayal.
Yilan could tell from the presence of his real body—not a segment, not a clone.
If he had suspected this trap beforehand, he would never have brought himself here in person.
But one word from the Doctor lingered in Yilan's mind: "also."
That meant… Dottore had suspected someone else before this.
"So you weren't entirely unaware," Yilan said calmly. "I knew it was impossible to fool you completely.
But tell me—where did our plan go wrong?"
As he spoke, he continued his silent operations through the Akasha Terminal.
A program embedded in the dreamscape was now converting the gnosis into a true divine core, synchronizing with Scaramouche's mechanized body.
"I must admit, Yilan, you're clever," Dottore said. "You fooled even me.
But your ally…"
He turned his gaze to the Balladeer, standing silent at the base of the long divine staircase.
"That one wears his heart on his sleeve. The moment I approached him, his hatred nearly poured out of him.
At first, I was puzzled. I knew he disliked me, but this… this was different.
It was you, wasn't it? You told him something."
By now, Nahida had quietly joined Yilan, her newly restored body standing beside him.
Behind them, the exit sealed shut with a low hum.
A luminous magic circle spread beneath their feet, carved with the ancient script of Khaenri'ah—sealing the battlefield.
Then, Scaramouche finally let loose his fury.
"Dottore! You're the one who killed Niwa—aren't you?!"
The Doctor met his rage with unsettling calm.
"Yes," he answered.
The Balladeer's eyes widened.
"It's a shame, really. He died so pitifully.
I carved out his heart. Right before the end, he begged me—begged—to spare you.
Such sentimentality… almost touching."
"Do. Tto. Re—!!"
Consumed by fury, the Balladeer lost all control.
Though he now wielded power approaching that of a god, he forsook all technique for brute force.
Within his armored form—the "God of Justice"—he launched forward, his massive fists tearing through the air toward the Doctor.
But at that moment, a radiant construct emerged behind Dottore: a floating, demonic roulette marked by five glaring eyes, each shining with a wicked gleam.
The roulette spun forward, intercepting the strike.
BOOM!
The impact sent shockwaves through the chamber.
Nahida cried out as she nearly lost her footing. Yilan caught her quickly.
But when he looked up again—
He saw a grin curling at the corner of the Doctor's lips beneath his mask.
Scaramouche also realized something was wrong.
As he tried to withdraw his arms, two thick tendrils shot from the roulette and wrapped around his fists, locking him in place.
He could break free—but the moment he prepared to do so—
Zzt!
A piercing bolt of Electro surged from behind the roulette.
Dottore had condensed the element into a blade.
In a flash, he drove it toward the core of the "God of Justice"—toward Scaramouche himself.
There was no time to evade.
Niwa… am I going to die like this, without even avenging you…?
Shhk!
The sound of a blade piercing flesh echoed.
But it wasn't the Balladeer who had been struck.
His eyes widened.
"Yilan—?!"