After Vacher was sentenced to death, everyone had already guessed that Aerin would not stop there.
What no one expected was how he would act.
With a single move, he poured Primordial Seawater directly into the Fortress of Meropide.
Even more shocking was the fact that Fontaine's reckoning was far from over.
From the displeasure clearly written on Aerin's face, it was obvious—
He was profoundly disappointed in Fontaine's system of law.
Fortress of Meropide
Every inmate was terrified out of their minds.
Among them, Wriothesley, the Duke, remained the calmest.
He understood something most people refused to admit:
Many criminals committed crimes precisely because they knew there was no death penalty.
Some even committed crimes deliberately, just to enter Meropide and profit from its underground order.
Wriothesley held enough authority here to dispose of them however he pleased.
But he had never taken pleasure in killing.
"If Fontaine survives this crisis," he murmured,
"Crime rates will plummet overnight."
A faint smile tugged at his lips before his expression returned to indifference.
"I just wonder whether my own sins count as 'deserving death.'"
After all—
He had personally killed the people who once "adopted" him.
Children raised only to be sold like livestock.
Those who didn't sell were quietly disposed of.
Those were the only "parents" Wriothesley had ever known.
House of the Hearth
When news spread that Aerin intended to deal with the noble class, Lynette clenched her small fists tightly.
Beside her, Lyney watched his sister with a faint, relieved smile.
They had once been street orphans, later taken in by nobles.
Lyney had been sincerely grateful, using his magic to bring honor to their adoptive household.
Until he discovered the truth—
That same noble had secretly sent Lynette to other aristocrats' estates.
If Arlecchino hadn't killed that noble first, the consequences would have been unimaginable.
This was Fontaine's true darkness—
Beneath its glamorous surface lurked filth, cruelty, and rot too vile to speak aloud.
Court of Fontaine
Back in his office, Neuvillette slumped weakly into his chair.
On the light screen, Aerin had casually flung a list directly at his face.
Yet Neuvillette didn't feel humiliated.
Instead, two names echoed in his mind.
"Carole… and Vautrin."
"Focalors loved humanity too much to harm them."
In a nation that preached justice—
Justice had never truly descended.
"But Aerin is different."
"And just as Vautrin once said…"
Blood debts must be repaid in blood.
A Strange Consciousness Space
A woman in a white dress—Focalors—danced gracefully upon an ornate stage.
Above her head hung a massive azure blade, suspended in midair.
Suddenly, the space trembled violently.
When the shaking stopped, Focalors halted her dance and looked calmly at the man who had intruded.
"You've arrived… god from beyond the skies."
She lifted her skirt and bowed politely to Aerin, flawless in etiquette.
"There's been a misunderstanding," Aerin replied calmly.
"I am not a god of Celestia."
"I do not belong to Teyvat. I'm an outsider."
He glanced upward at the blade and smiled.
"I imagine your faith has nearly finished accumulating."
Focalors nodded blankly.
She had observed everything through Fontaine's Indemnitium.
After the anomaly in Vacher's verdict, she had sensed something was wrong.
Following the traces, she had finally discovered Aerin in Furina's office.
"I thought you were here to pass judgment on me," she said softly.
"I was prepared to die."
"And yet you aren't a god of Celestia…"
"Close enough," Aerin replied flatly.
"I now fully control Irminsul."
"This world already belongs to me."
"You should be glad, Focalors."
He pointed at the blade above her.
"This power was born from faith freely offered by your people."
"In Sumeru, those who forcibly mined human consciousness were executed by me."
"The only difference is this—"
"Fontaine's people offered their faith willingly."
"If you had taken it by force, you'd share their fate."
"The play ends here."
Aerin raised his hand.
The blade shattered.
Blue droplets drifted down like rain.
Focalors stared, sorrow filling her eyes.
This was the only solution she had conceived to save Fontaine.
Five hundred years of solitude.
Five hundred years of gathering power.
All erased in an instant.
She had even forced Furina to endure five centuries of suffering for this plan.
Letting the fragments pass through her fingers, she recalled countless smiling faces—
And one name above all.
"Furina… Furina…"
The Mirror
"Huh…? Who's calling me?"
Furina spun around in panic.
A gentle voice echoed from the mirror.
"Don't be afraid."
"I'm right in front of you."
The reflection was identical—
Yet dressed differently.
"Y-you're… me?" Furina stammered.
Focalors smiled sweetly.
"That works. I'll be the 'you in the mirror.'"
Once the shock faded, Furina asked curiously,
"Why are you here?"
"The prophecy," Focalors said.
"…What prophecy?" Furina replied blankly—then froze.
"I… I think I know it."
"It's in my head."
"All will dissolve into the sea.
Only the Water God remains, weeping upon the throne…
And only then are Fontaine's sins absolved."
Focalors folded her arms, smiling brightly.
"You remember it well."
"Will it really happen?" Furina asked hesitantly.
"Yes," Focalors answered without hesitation.
"That's why I came."
"The catastrophe is inevitable."
Fear filled Furina's eyes.
"Then everyone dies… including me!"
Focalors shook her head.
"Miracles exist to create turning points."
"I'll tell you how to save everyone."
"But you will suffer."
Hearing that there was hope, Furina believed instantly.
"So there's a way!" she sighed in relief.
"As for suffering…" she said honestly,
"If the scale is between everyone's lives and my pain, the answer's obvious."
She chose Fontaine.
Focalors felt pride—and joy.
This was the self-sacrifice she believed humanity capable of.
"Listen carefully, Furina."
"Fontaine has just lost its Water God."
"You must play the role."
"P-play… a god?" Furina froze.
"You must never let them doubt."
"If you succeed, I can defy the prophecy."
"If you fail, hope disappears."
"You don't need to be a real god."
"Just the god people imagine."
"I promise you—"
"It will all end in a grand, theatrical judgment."
"And everyone will be saved."
The memories faded like a lantern reel.
Beyond resisting the prophecy—
Focalors had lived for nothing else.
She and Furina were born for the same purpose.
[Ningguang]: "So this is why Lady Furina became a false god."
[Amber]: "She existed solely to shield Focalors."
[Kaeya]: "That theatrical judgment…"
[Venti]: "The blade above her head… she judged herself."
[Zhongli]: "The weeping god upon the throne… it was her execution."
[Xianyun]: "The false god is judged, but the real one dies."
[Yae Miko]: "That blade was death itself."
[Yoimiya]: "Without Aerin, Fontaine's first execution would've killed its savior."
[Keqing]: "And Furina would've borne the blame alone."
Neuvillette had no words.
The Oratrice had always obeyed Focalors.
She spared humanity—
And reserved death for herself.
"…Perhaps," he murmured,
"That being will understand."
Palais Mermonia
Furina finally breathed easier.
Aerin hadn't punished her.
As long as she followed his orders, Fontaine might survive.
But then—
"So the 'theatrical judgment'… was meant for me?"
"And she was meant to die?"
Cold sweat drenched her back.
Only now did she realize—
Without Aerin, the future would have been unbearable.
"…So it's because of him," she whispered.
"I was spared."
"I thought he'd drag me to the gallows himself…"
"…I misunderstood him."
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