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Hazy.
Everything was hazy.
His head felt light, and he felt lost.
A painfully human emotion.
The puppet slowly opens his eyes, taking in his surroundings.
He was in… Shakkei Pavilion? How? He had not been here in centuries.
Why was he here?
Unless…
Was he in a dream?
Yes, that must be it.
The puppet was confused.
Why didn’t Buer end his existence yet?
She showed him that she was perfectly capable of doing that.
Was he kept alive to be a pawn yet again?
He felt… helpless.
The puppet gave a bitter laugh.
The god kept him captive in his own consciousness, perhaps for all of eternity.
The puppet looks down at his hands, and flexes his fingers. He felt human, but he knew it to be a lie.
Just like the stars and sky of Teyvat.
He was never meant to be human, nor a god for that matter.
The puppet closes his eyes, resigned to his fate.
His artificial lungs expanded, and his breathing slowed as he slept.
There was someone in his dream.
He took the form of a tall man with blonde hair. His green eyes were like the god’s, and the puppet briefly thought that it was her in disguise.
Then, he perished that thought. This one’s eyes were more youthful than the ones the god possesses.
If it were Buer, then the supposed disguise would have four-leafed pupils, but his were round and black.
No mortal disguise could completely hide a god’s divinity.
Eyes are the windows to the soul after all.
Was he a human?
The puppet found himself asking:
“What is your name?”
The strange man replies, “I am Dream.”
Dream?
…was he a construct just like him?
The puppet’s mind swirled with questions.
“What purpose did Buer create you with?”
The strange man tilts his head, confused. “Buer? You mean Nahida? She didn’t make me – she found me.”
The puppet’s mind swirled with even more questions.
“Then who are you?”
“I told you,” the strange man said, patiently. “I am Dream.”
The puppet, unsatisfied with the answer, said no more.
“What about you?” the man returned the question a few days later. “What’s your name?”
The puppet contemplated for a bit.
Who was he?
Without his mother’s gnosis, he was no god. He never has been and never will be. He is not a human either, and he is certainly no longer apart of the Fatui.
They gave his life meaning. Without them, what was he? Who was he?
He was back to what he once was.
Hurt. Lost. Abandoned.
A discarded puppet.
“I am Kunikuzushi.”
Nahida stood outside of her sanctuary, looking at the myriad of constellations in the night sky.
The wind whistled through the leaves, gently brushing her face – a playful greeting of sorts.
Nahida laughs.
The Peregrinus and Somniator seemed to shine a little bit brighter than before.
