The morning passed quickly. Klee, bored out of her mind, clung to Saphir and begged to go fish-blasting—but was caught red-handed by Jean and promptly dragged off to be confined in solitary detention.
Even after locking Klee away, Jean still hadn't recovered from the shock of what she'd just witnessed.
Klee had practically latched herself onto Saphir, swinging from her like a backpack and chirping, "Saphir sis, let's go blow up some fish!" The terror Jean felt in that moment turned into pure fury. She scolded Klee harshly and locked her up without room for discussion. Her mind kept looping one fear: What if Klee offended her? What if she got hurt? What would I say to Alice if something happened?
Inside the confinement room, Klee felt extremely wronged. Wasn't Saphir her mom's friend? Why was Captain Jean so angry? If it was just for blasting fish, a simple warning would've been enough, right? Her little head couldn't quite figure it out. But being a born optimist, she soon got over it and happily started tinkering with her next Jumpy Dumpty.
Back at the alchemy table, Jean returned with a more complicated emotion in her chest. She no longer knew how to read Saphir's attitude. Just as she was about to speak, Saphir beat her to it.
"Captain Jean, do you think I'm… ugly?" Saphir asked.
Jean blinked, stunned by the question. Ugly? Absolutely not. Jean had seen her share of beautiful women, and few could claim to outshine Saphir. Certainly not herself. She gave a bitter smile and was about to respond when Saphir asked again—
"Have I ever done anything to hurt Mondstadt?"
Of course she had. She took Venti's Gnosis, and with minimal cost, claimed full control of Dragonspine's resources—resources that Mondstadt could do nothing to stop her from taking. But none of this could be said outright. Jean could only shake her head, forced to swallow her bitterness.
Saphir crossed her arms, clearly displeased. "I'm not asking to be your friend. But we're not enemies, are we? So why are you so guarded around me?"
"I…" Jean couldn't find the words. After a long pause, she finally mumbled, "It's because of Klee…"
"Klee's a good child—just a little too energetic. That's part of who she is. Shutting her down so harshly isn't right." With that, Saphir walked out of the alchemy workshop. Jean understood—there were things Saphir wanted to say in private, and so she followed.
They stopped at a quiet, empty corner. Though Jean stood nearly a head taller, her presence paled next to Saphir's.
Saphir looked around to make sure no one was nearby before speaking bluntly. "I know why you're acting this way. It's because of Diluc, isn't it? Ever since you learned who I am, you've been treating me differently. You must've heard something."
"Does Miss Saphir believe that what we saw with our own eyes was just hearsay?" Jean's gaze drifted toward the alleyway. "I don't claim to understand the inner workings of the Fatui, or what goes on between you Harbingers. But even so… there are lines that shouldn't be crossed."
Saphir waved her off with a scoff. "Hmph. Do you even know the full story? Just based on what Diluc saw, you've labeled me a monster?"
Jean swallowed hard. It was true—she didn't know everything. But in her view, no matter what kind of hatred existed, what she saw that day—the brutal death of a man—was beyond what could be excused, even if the man had caused great suffering to Mondstadt.
The mention of Dottore stirred something bitter in Saphir, her expression dimming. "Dottore… my feelings toward him are… complicated. Since you already know part of it, I might as well tell you the truth. Go ahead and call out Diluc—he should hear this too."
Right on cue, a black-cloaked, red-haired man stepped into the alley, silent as shadow.
Saphir turned her eyes toward him. "Do you still remember… Collei?"
Both Jean and Diluc immediately recalled the green-haired girl—cautious, guarded, like a wounded kitten. It was painfully obvious that she'd been through something awful.
"You mean… this is about Collei?" Diluc finally spoke, his voice taut.
Saphir met his eyes. "I promised her I'd avenge her. That I'd repay every ounce of pain she suffered, a thousandfold. And so I did. Was that wrong?"
Jean and Diluc froze.
"I promised Qiya. I promised Kaiyin. I promised Soso. I made those promises as they lay dying in my arms—and after they died, I buried them with my own hands. Was I wrong to honor those promises?"
"Collei was one of the lucky ones. She met you, made it to Mondstadt, found Amber, and began a new life—free at last. But me? I still carry the weight of all the others who never made it. I don't think I was cruel. If anything, I think I didn't go far enough."
"That man didn't deserve such a quick death. He never got to kneel at the graves I built and beg forgiveness. So tell me, Diluc. Was I wrong? Say it."
Her eyes were as cold as the abyss, and Diluc couldn't hold her gaze. He turned away, unable to answer.
She turned her attention to Jean. "Then you tell me. Was I wrong, Captain Jean? Tell me what I should have done. How does one fulfill a promise like that 'righteously'? With sunlight and justice and noble ideals? Why won't you speak either?"
"Come on, condemn me. Use your 'justice' to chastise me. Defend Dottore like a good little knight. Come on, Dandelion Knight of the Church of Favonius. Come on, Darknight Hero."
Saphir sneered, the corners of her lips twisted in scorn. "In the places where sunlight cannot reach, there is no justice. Because in those places, justice… is a joke."
Neither Jean nor Diluc could look her in the eye. Her strength, her conviction, and the bitter truth she carried had crushed all their carefully constructed moral defenses.
Saphir turned away to leave.
Just as she stepped out of the alley, Jean whispered behind her, "I'm sorry."
Saphir paused, then kept walking without a word.
"I don't resent you," she said calmly. "I don't care how the world sees me. But your self-righteousness—that, I despise. If you need anything else, find me later. I'm not in the mood today."
She left the two of them behind in stunned silence.
High above, on a rooftop, Venti sat with a wine bottle in his arms, untouched. He had watched the entire exchange in silence. A breeze brushed past as he vanished, and on that wind came a sigh, long and sorrowful.
Saphir wasn't someone who let her emotions dictate her actions. Emotion was a weakness, something others could exploit. Before she put an end to Dottore's many clones, he had used her sympathy to manipulate her into doing many things.
The children he used to blackmail her—most of them were dead. Collei was one of the few who survived.
From that point on, Saphir never revealed what she cared about. Never again would she let her emotions be turned into weapons.
For that, she was grateful to Dottore. He taught her an unforgettable lesson—brutal, but effective.
If that lunatic were still alive, he'd probably laugh and say, "Ah, Saphir, you really have grown. I told you I was right. I'm Dottore—I don't make mistakes."
The thought made her clench her fists again. She would love to smash that smug face just one more time. Next chance she got, she'd make sure another Dottore clone didn't leave in one piece.
—
Meanwhile, the forging of the divine weapon core continued. Sucrose and Kunfeng had slowed down their test frequency. They now poured over a blueprint, sketching and theorizing, with Sucrose mumbling complicated alchemy jargon. Kunfeng, far from bored, felt like his mind was being opened anew.
This was the essence of real research—where theory guided experimentation and results refined theory. Sucrose was living proof of why she was Albedo's top disciple.
Although they hadn't succeeded in crafting a perfect core, the theoretical framework had begun to take shape. After an entire day of brainstorming, both looked visibly dazed.
Seeing that they still wanted to continue, Saphir stepped in decisively.
"That's enough for today. This isn't something we can finish overnight. Rest well, and we'll try again tomorrow."
Sucrose was a little reluctant. "Miss Saphir… it's been so long since I've felt like this. Ideas are bubbling up constantly, but I can't write them down fast enough, let alone test them. It's like… something is missing, but I don't know what."
Spending a day working together had eased Sucrose's usual anxiety. She was no longer afraid of Saphir. In fact, she had started offering material suggestions of her own. To her surprise, Saphir took every idea seriously and arranged for things to be prepared.
This must be what it feels like to fight a war with full rations, Sucrose thought, overwhelmed by how well-funded this project was.
Still, she did raise one regret: If only we had a true master alchemist… someone like Albedo. We'd make far quicker progress.
Saphir could only smile wryly. Albedo wasn't likely to come all the way out here, and as for heading up to Dragonspine… it wasn't impossible, but it was cold. And Saphir hated the cold.
—
That night, Jean had a nightmare.
She was strapped to a cold lab table. A man with a crazed smile stood over her, surgical scalpel in hand. The blade cut across her skin—cold, sharp, and utterly precise. She could feel her life bleeding out with every slice.
The pain reached its peak as he removed her still-beating heart from her chest.
Jean jolted awake.
Gasping for breath, she sat up at her desk, soaked in sweat. Scattered documents lay strewn across the floor, but she couldn't bring herself to pick them up.
She stumbled to the window and looked out at the sleeping city of Mondstadt, lost in thought.
Her mind returned to the nightmare… and to Saphir's words that afternoon:
"Where sunlight doesn't reach, there is no justice. Because then, it stops being justice—it becomes a joke."
~~~----------------------
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