There he was.
Me. The idiot.
Walking through Sumeru City like I didn't just casually survive a reality rewrite.
Paimon was already floating ahead of us, hands clasped behind her back, mumbling intensely.
"Okay, so first we get something savory, then something sweet, then maybe something fried, then something sweet again—"
"Floaty," I cut in lazily, "if you keep stacking meals like that, you're going to evolve into Final Form Paimon."
She gasped. "Paimon does not have a final form!"
Greg flicked his tail in silent disagreement.
Nilou walked between Lumine and me, humming softly, though I could feel the subtle shift in the air. Lumine was thinking. Hard. Nilou glanced at her more than once, her expression gentle but attentive, like she was quietly waiting for the moment Lumine decided to speak.
I grinned.
"Alright, Blondie," I said, nudging her shoulder lightly. "I know that look. Spit it out. Don't keep it inside your tiny golden brain."
She shot me a look. "How do you always know?"
"Because I am a genius."
Greg slapped the side of my head.
"Because I'm observant," I corrected.
Lumine exhaled slowly. "It feels like something is missing."
Nilou tilted her head. "Missing?"
Lumine nodded. "Like I'm forgetting something important. I try to think about it, but it slips away." She frowned slightly. "It's frustrating."
I raised a finger dramatically.
"Stop rattling your poor little brain," I declared. "My genius shall explain."
Paimon groaned. "Here we go again."
I spun around, walking backward dramatically as I spoke.
"You see, Irminsul deletion isn't like deleting a file permanently. It's more like… rewriting the recipe."
Nilou blinked. "Recipe?"
"Yes," I continued confidently. "Imagine you're making a stew. You remove one ingredient. The stew adjusts. The flavor shifts. But traces of the missing ingredient linger in the aftertaste."
Greg flicked my ear.
"Metaphor. Important."
I pointed at Lumine.
"You feel that aftertaste."
She stared at me.
"…Keep going."
"Now," I said, lowering my voice, "you remember Rukkhadevata."
Lumine nods.
Nilou froze. "Rukkha… who?"
There it was, the quiet gap.
Paimon squinted. "Is that a spice?"
I waved dismissively. "Former Dendro Mommy. OG version. The premium model. The limited edition."
"Wait," Nilou said carefully, "are you saying Lady Nahida is—"
"Temu version," I said instantly.
Everyone stopped walking.
Paimon blinked. "Temu… what?"
Lumine's eyes widened slightly, but not in confusion. She understood.
"She erased herself," Lumine murmured.
I snapped my fingers. "Bingo."
Nilou looked between us. "Who erased herself?"
"Topic for another day," I said quickly. "Because right now? We have a guy with a big hat to meet."
Greg slapped my head so hard I almost stumbled.
"Okay, okay, I deserved that."
And then Lumine stopped walking, her eyes locking onto someone near a merchant stall. I followed her gaze.
There he was.
Talking casually to a fruit merchant. Still wearing that ridiculous hat.
I grinned slowly.
"Well, well, well," I muttered. "What do we have here?"
"Excuse me, Boss," the familiar voice said politely, holding out a folded scrap of paper. "There seems to be a small problem with the last bill. Look here — the total doesn't quite match the listed quantities."
Lumine stiffened beside me.
The merchant barely glanced at the paper before suddenly jerking his head toward the street.
"Hey! Hey, wait!" he barked.
A child darted past the stall, two bright Sunsettias clutched against his chest.
"Didn't you see that!?" the merchant groaned. "That rascal just grabbed my last two fresh Sunsettias and ran off!"
Hat Guy turned slowly, blinking as if he'd just returned from another plane of existence.
"You mean me?" he asked, genuinely confused.
"No, not you!" the merchant snapped. "The kid! The one who robbed me blind while you were daydreaming!"
Hat Guy followed the direction the child had run, then lowered his gaze.
"…I wasn't paying close enough attention," he admitted quietly. "Sorry, Boss."
The merchant crossed his arms, frustration melting into weary exasperation.
"Look. If you're gonna help out here, you can't keep spacing out like that. What is it? The work too boring for you? Or has the big city got too many distractions?"
Hat Guy glanced around at the bustling bazaar — bright fabrics, laughter, music drifting through the air.
"…Maybe it's the city," he replied after a pause. "It's exciting. Hard to focus sometimes."
The merchant snorted.
"You're a strange one, kiddo. First worker I've ever met who insists he doesn't want a wage. And when I actually give you something to do, you wander off in your own head."
Hat Guy bowed his head slightly.
"You don't need to pay me anything," he said earnestly. "I'm just thankful you agreed to take in an outsider like me."
The merchant studied him for a long second.
Nilou watched too, her gaze softer than the merchant's scrutiny. "He really means that," she murmured quietly to us. "He's not pretending."
"…Outsider, huh?" he muttered. "You don't take days off. You don't ask for money. In your free time you just walk around staring at everything like you're trying to memorize it. What are you, some kind of drifter?"
Hat Guy met his gaze evenly.
"That's right," he said simply. "I am."
He glanced at the empty crate.
"Sunsettias, was it? I'll go find some more. I won't let you down."
The merchant sighed, rubbing his temple.
"Just… be careful. And try not to get lost in your own head again."
Hat Guy offered a faint, almost amused smile.
"I'll try."
Drifter. No Harbinger title. No memory. No past.
Nilou exhaled slowly beside me. "If this is who he is now… then maybe we should meet him as he is. Not who he was."
"Let's follow him," Lumine whispered.
"Stay out of sight," Paimon added urgently.
I stared at them.
"…Why?"
Lumine frowned. "Because—"
"Because drama?" I interrupted. "Because tension? Because mysterious stalking?"
I scoffed.
"I was not built for that genre."
Before anyone could stop me, I stepped forward. Greg adjusted himself on my shoulder like a king about to witness chaos.
Nilou reached out instinctively, fingers brushing lightly against my sleeve. "Just… be kind," she said softly. Not a warning. Not fear. Just a quiet request.
I walked straight toward Wanderer.
No hesitation. No subtlety.
Just grit, flair, questionable judgment, and a lizard.
"Yo!" I called out brightly.
He turned.
Our eyes met.
For a split second—nothing. No recognition. Just curiosity.
"…Do I know you?" he asked calmly.
I grinned wider.
Behind me, I heard Nilou take a small breath, steadying herself. She didn't step back. She didn't hide. She stayed right there with us.
"Oh," I said lightly.
"Not yet."
The silence that followed was the kind that stretches like warm taffy, slow and sticky and impossible to ignore. It wasn't hostile. It wasn't friendly either. Just… suspended.
He stared at me.
I stared at him.
Behind me, I could feel Lumine's steady presence like a blade that hasn't been drawn yet, calm but prepared. Nilou's warmth hovered at my left, patient and observant, her fingers lightly intertwined as if she were bracing for something fragile. Paimon floated slightly higher than usual, which in Paimon language meant anxiety levels rising past acceptable thresholds.
And in front of us stood Hat Guy.
Former world‑threat.
Current fruit delivery assistant.
He blinked once.
"…Have we met before?" he asked carefully.
There it was.
Polite confusion.
No venom. No bite.
Just a man who wanted to buy Sunsettias and go home.
I folded my arms and tilted my head as if considering the question from a philosophical standpoint instead of the catastrophic metaphysical one currently vibrating in the background of existence.
"Well," I said, "define met."
Paimon made a strangled noise that sounded suspiciously like regret.
Lumine smacked the back of my head.
Not hard.
But with meaning.
"Behave," she muttered.
Greg thumped my skull in agreement, claws tightening slightly for emphasis.
Traitor.
Hat Guy looked between the two of them, increasingly concerned.
"…No," he said slowly. "We haven't met. But you know me?"
His gaze sharpened just a fraction.
Calm.
Observing.
Different gravity, like I said.
I leaned forward slightly, lowering my voice conspiratorially.
"Hat Guy," I began, "how are you vibing lately?"
He froze.
"…What?"
"Vibes. Spiritual alignment. Emotional weather forecast. Are we partly cloudy with a chance of existential crisis, or are we sunny with mild introspection?"
Paimon clutched her head. "Why are you like this?"
"Consistency," I replied proudly.
Nilou let out a quiet, helpless laugh and quickly hid it behind her sleeve. "He means… how are you feeling?" she clarified gently.
Hat Guy stared at me as if reconsidering every life choice that led to this moment.
"I just wanted to pick up Sunsettias," he said flatly.
"That's valid," I nodded. "Very fruit‑forward of you."
Nilou shook her head softly, though her eyes were warm. Lumine stepped forward, expression calm but direct.
"We do know you," she said.
Her voice cut through my nonsense cleanly.
He looked at her.
Something flickered.
"…I have no recollection," he said.
"It's complicated," Lumine answered evenly. "But I do know you."
Paimon leaned toward me and whispered loudly, "Are you absolutely sure this is the right guy?"
"Yes," I whispered back. "Hat. Attitude. The emotional range of a storm cloud. That's him."
"I can hear you," he said.
"Excellent," I replied.
He exhaled slowly. "Sorry. But I can't just take your word for it."
Reasonable.
Very reasonable.
I tapped my chin thoughtfully, pretending to deliberate like a responsible adult instead of the chaos distributor I am.
"I can prove it."
And because I am a responsible adult who always chooses clarity over chaos—
I immediately chose chaos.
"Okay," I began, pointing at him like a lecturer about to ruin the syllabus, "so imagine reality is a limited-time banner."
He blinked.
"…What."
"Yes, good, stay with me. Sometimes people show up with dramatic music and a five-star intro animation. Very shiny. Lots of emotional baggage. Then they disappear for a while. Then—boom—rerun. Slightly different vibe. Same hat. New trauma processing."
Nilou blinked slowly. "I'm… following the emotional part," she admitted softly.
Paimon slowly turned to Lumine. "Is he having one of his episodes?"
"Let him finish," Lumine said flatly, though her hand hovered near the back of my head in case emergency correction was required.
I paced in a small circle as I continued. "You, my dear Hat Guy, were Version One. Storm-flavored. God complex expansion pack. Mechanical suit accessory. Very dramatic boss fight energy. Then—poof. Narrative reset. Version Two. Wanderer edition. Indie traveler aesthetic. Same silhouette. Less murder intent."
"…Murder intent?" he repeated.
"Metaphorical," I said quickly. "Mostly."
Nilou exhaled slowly. "He's exaggerating. But not entirely."
I pointed at his hat again.
"Also, this. You cannot convince me that this hat is not a design constant across timelines. That brim has commitment. That's not fashion. That's destiny."
He instinctively touched it again, now visibly unsettled.
"It's just a hat."
"No," I said with absolute conviction. "It's branding."
"For unresolved emotional arcs," I added immediately when Paimon opened her mouth.
Lumine smacked the back of my head.
Correction administered.
"Speak clearly," she warned.
"Fine," I sighed dramatically. "Short version. You tried to become a god. It did not go well. I punched you. Greg bit you. There were feelings. Then you deleted yourself from the cosmic database. Now you're back with factory settings and a better moral compass."
Greg lifted his chin proudly at the mention of biting.
"…I did all that?" he asked slowly.
"Yes."
"…And you're telling me this like it's a casual anecdote."
"It was a very busy week."
Nilou covered her mouth again, shoulders shaking slightly.
Lumine sighed. "We fought. You were hurt. You made a choice. The world changed. We remember. Most don't."
That.
Clear.
Direct.
He absorbed that quietly.
"So you tracked me down," he said, "because of who I used to be."
I shook my head.
"No. I tracked you down because of who you are now."
Nilou glanced at me, surprised.
That actually surprised him too.
"But also," I added helpfully, "because unresolved plot threads itch my brain."
Lumine smacked me again.
Worth it.
"…You're a puppet."
The air shifted.
Subtle.
Sharp.
His eyes widened just slightly.
Paimon gasped. "A puppet? What makes you think that?"
Hat Guy's expression tightened.
There it was.
Recognition.
Not of us.
But of himself.
"…!"
Nilou's voice was soft but steady. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to."
I raised both hands peacefully. "See? I'm not just chaotic. I'm occasionally correct."
He studied me for a long moment.
"I guess you do know me after all," he said quietly. "That isn't something I share with many people."
Nilou's fingers tightened slightly in her sleeve again.
"…Look," he continued, "I'm just a wanderer. But seeing as you've gone to the trouble of tracking me down, I assume it must be important."
"There's somewhere I want to take you," Lumine said gently.
He hesitated.
Then lifted the basket slightly.
"Okay. But please let me deliver these goods to my boss first."
Nilou nodded immediately. "Of course. That's only fair."
And just like that, we were walking.
Together.
Again.
Except this time, he had no idea.
After a few quiet steps, he glanced sideways at us, expression thoughtful but cautious.
"…Where exactly are you taking me?" he asked.
Straight question. Calm tone. Suspicion level moderate.
I smiled brightly.
"To your future new mom."
He slowed mid-step.
"…My what?"
Paimon choked. "You can't just say that without context!"
Nilou made a soft, scandalized sound. "Shigeru…"
I waved my hand dismissively. "Relax. Much less chaotic than the purple one. Smaller. Greener. More emotionally stable."
He stared at me like I had just invented a new form of insanity.
"…I don't recall having any mothers in plural," he said carefully.
"That's because this is the upgrade," I replied confidently. "Supportive. Reads books. Gives good life advice. Occasionally rewrites reality. Very wholesome."
Lumine pinched the bridge of her nose. "He means Nahida."
"Ohhh," Paimon said. "Why didn't you just say that?"
"Because that's less dramatic," I answered.
Wanderer studied us for another long second, clearly debating whether walking away would improve his day.
"…You people are strange," he concluded.
"And yet," I said cheerfully, gesturing forward, "you're still coming."
I walked beside him, plucked a Sunsettia from the basket, and took a bite.
He stopped mid‑step.
"…Did you just—"
"Quality control," I said through a mouthful. "Can't have you delivering subpar citrus."
Nilou covered a soft laugh. "At least ask first."
Greg made a decisive leap from my shoulders to Nilou's. He settled there like a king evacuating a burning kingdom.
Nilou blinked. "Greg?"
He flicked his tail twice.
Translation.
Too much stupidity.
Even the lizard has limits.
Hat Guy looked at Greg, then at me. "…Is that lizard judging you?"
"Yes," I said solemnly. "Constantly."
We resumed walking.
"So," I began casually, "fun fact. We were sort of buddies once."
Lumine inhaled sharply.
Nilou closed her eyes briefly.
Hat Guy looked unimpressed. "I doubt that."
"Well," I amended, "define buddies."
"Stop saying that," Lumine muttered.
He shook his head faintly, but there was less edge in it now.
As we walked, I studied him more carefully. No tension in his shoulders. No sharpness in his stride. Just… measured steps and quiet observation.
"You really don't remember anything?" I asked, softer now.
He shook his head. "Fragments. Feelings without context. Anger that doesn't belong to anything specific."
Nilou's expression dimmed slightly.
"That must feel lonely," she said gently.
He didn't answer immediately.
"…It's peaceful," he said instead.
And that word hit differently.
Peaceful.
I glanced at Lumine.
She heard it too.
This wasn't the same storm.
This was aftermath.
"Well," I declared finally, forcing brightness back into the air, "regardless of memory settings, welcome to Round Two of Knowing Us."
He gave me a look.
"…You're insufferable."
I grinned.
"And yet," I said, tossing him the last Sunsettia, "you're still walking with me."
He caught it easily.
For a split second, something almost familiar flashed across his face.
Not recognition.
But possibility.
And honestly?
I'll take that.
____________
End of Chapter 166
Quests Completed:
*Detect emotional desynchronization in Lumine before she admits it aloud.
*Explain Irminsul rewrite mechanics using stew analogies. Receive ear flick. Continue anyway.
*Accidentally reference a previously erased Archon. Create an awkward lore vacuum. Move on quickly.
*Spot the Wanderer in civilian mode: Fruit Stall Assistant Edition.
*Confirm identity through Hat Recognition Protocol.
*Deliver chaotic but technically accurate summary of his deleted life.
*Reveal puppet identity in public. Trigger internal resonance event.
*Observe recognition without memory: emotional flicker detected.
*Accept Sunsettia Delivery Side Objective.
*Consume merchant goods without permission. Justify as "quality control."
*Convince Wanderer to follow party voluntarily despite zero context.
*Describe Nahida as "future new mom." Cause full-party psychic recoil.
Rewards:
*Primogems: +166 (earned through high-risk social chaos).
*Friendship EXP +160 with Lumine — you softened the confrontation before it turned sharp.
*Friendship EXP +150 with Nilou — you didn't weaponize the past against him.
*Friendship EXP +60 with Paimon — emotional overload mitigated with snacks.
*Hidden Affinity Trigger with Wanderer (Unregistered) — +?? (Memory-independent resonance detected).
*+1 Greg Tactical Evacuation – He abandons your shoulder at peak stupidity threshold.
*+25 Emotional Subtlety (Rare Gain)
*+10 Existential Maturity — You chose not to cling to who he was.
*+1 New Variable Introduced: "Possibility"
*Debuff Removed: Immediate Hostility from Former Harbinger