Yilan finally understood what the "surprise" Nahida had mentioned before he entered turned out to be.
But this surprise… was a bit too much.
Nahida was fine—petite and adorable—so psychologically, he could accept the idea of her becoming his daughter.
But Scaramouche…
Yilan just wanted to say: his current body was only in his early twenties. Judging by appearance, he wasn't much older than Scaramouche.
Although he had been diligently trying with Ganyu and Kamisato Ayaka to produce a child over the years, he hadn't succeeded in creating even one.
Yet now, without having a single child of his own, he suddenly had both a daughter and a son?
This was a bit—
However, from Nahida and Scaramouche's perspective, that wasn't how it seemed.
To them, Yilan was someone who bent space and time at will, his strength fathomless. Perhaps he was some ancient being, a transcendent ruler who could be thousands of years old. If they called him "Father," they certainly didn't see any issue with age.
Of course, Scaramouche—now no longer the Balladeer nor the Fatui's puppet—still had a storm of complicated emotions.
After all, he now carried the integrated memories of both the fourth and third simulations.
In the third simulation, he and Yilan had been enemies, and Scaramouche had been thoroughly humiliated.
When he left Inazuma, he even threw down the cold words: "When we meet again, I will avenge this disgrace."
So how did that grudge turn into calling him "Dad"?
What the hell was this situation?
How utterly embarrassing!
Even someone like Scaramouche—who rarely showed true emotion and always bore an arrogant expression—now had a face flushed red with shame.
But despite the awkwardness, when he said "Father," he meant it.
On one hand, Yilan had a deep and ambiguous relationship with his mother. Based on that alone, Yilan could be considered his stepfather.
On the other hand, Yilan's heart now beat within his chest—Yilan had passed his will and heart onto him. In a way, this was a continuation of life. From that angle, Yilan was undeniably qualified to be his father.
But above all, what mattered most wasn't the physical or symbolic inheritance—it was the emotion overflowing in Scaramouche's chest.
The recognition between kindred spirits. The trust that allowed one to entrust their life to another. The selfless concern.
These were the things he had long yearned for, but never received.
Now, Yilan wasn't just his stepfather by technicality. He had given him a heart, emotions that finally made him whole, and a new life. And so, he willingly called him "Father."
Among the three of them, Nahida was probably the happiest of all.
On one hand, the Great Compassionate Tree King had long told her that she had a dependable and powerful father. So even when she was imprisoned in the Sanctuary of Surasthana, she held onto the hope that her father would come rescue her.
And now, he truly had.
To her, it was like a dream come true.
On the other hand, while each of the current Seven had their share of painful memories—of friends lost and comrades gone—they had once known warmth.
Nahida had never had any of that. Since birth, she had been alone. Utterly lonely.
Now, she had a father—and a… little brother.
She felt so incredibly happy.
Both Nahida and Scaramouche looked at Yilan expectantly.
Truth be told, Yilan was completely lost.
Even with his Spirit stat at 30 points, his brain couldn't process all this.
How did someone who had never had any children suddenly become the father of two people over a hundred years old?
He had no parenting experience whatsoever!
Still… the dignity of a father had to be upheld.
Cough.
He cleared his throat, and with the blessing of "Face of God," his expression appeared solemn yet kind in Nahida and Scaramouche's eyes.
He looked at Scaramouche and said, "I do indeed share a connection with the Raiden sisters, so it's not unreasonable for you to call me that. But… should I still call you Scaramouche?"
Scaramouche shook his head with disdain. "In this altered timeline, I never joined the Fatui. There's no reason for me to carry that name anymore."
"Then this is a perfect time to choose a new one." Nahida turned to Yilan and said softly, "Dad is here—it's the perfect moment for him to name you."
"Hmph. Though I don't exactly want to call you that, it's undeniable that your heart beats in my chest now. I suppose that does connect us by blood. For now… I'll allow you to give me a name."
Scaramouche snorted, folding his arms and turning away, though a glimmer of hope shone at the corners of his eyes.
…Classic tsundere behavior.
Yilan felt a strange itch in his teeth, but it wasn't the time to make jokes.
He seriously pondered for a moment and said, "Then I shall name you Thunder and Lightning: Collapse of Nation."
"Why?" Scaramouche frowned. "I've already moved past those obsessions."
In the past, he had named himself Kunikuzushi—"Collapse of Nation"—out of hatred toward Raiden Ei for abandoning him. His goal had been to overthrow Inazuma.
But now, those feelings were gone.
"Even if you've changed," Yilan said, arms crossed, "I don't believe people should reject their past. Good or bad, it's proof of who you were. It's part of your existence."
He looked him in the eye and said firmly:
"If you dislike the old meaning of the name, then reinterpret it. Let the 'collapse of nation' stand for my will."
Scaramouche narrowed his eyes. "You want to destroy one of the Seven Nations?"
Nahida looked at him in surprise too.
Under their stunned gazes, Yilan slowly lifted his finger toward the sky and smiled. "Why limit your vision to the earth? Why not destroy the kingdom of the heavens?"
After a pause, Scaramouche burst into classic villainous laughter. "Hahahahaha! You really are worthy of being my father. I accept this name!"
"Right."
Yilan suddenly remembered something. He looked at the "son and daughter" in front of him, smiling with interest, and asked:
"Since both of you acknowledge me as your father, what does that make you two? Are you brother and sister?
"Of course we're brother and sister!"
"We're siblings!"
The two voices overlapped.
Then they turned toward each other—one with hands on hips, the other with arms crossed—engaged in a fierce stare-down.
***
Snort!
The soldier crossed his arms over his chest, snorted in disdain, and looked down at Nahida, who barely reached his chest. He said mockingly:
"Have some self-awareness, little one. Anyone who sees us standing together would probably assume I'm the older sibling."
Nahida placed a hand gently over her chest. Although what Scaramouche said was unkind, she didn't show any displeasure. Her emerald green eyes were calm, filled with tolerance and gentleness.
Though she appeared as a little girl, she looked up at Scaramouche with a firm, almost maternal gaze and said:
"But by common logic, seniority isn't based on appearance—it's based on age. I may look small, but I'm over five hundred years old. And you?"
"I… I—"
Scaramouche's face turned bright red. "Age alone doesn't determine seniority! What matters is experience—maturity that fits that age!"
"You're a discarded puppet. Even if you've existed for centuries, it doesn't count for much. You're like a newborn in terms of real life experience."
Seeing the proud Harbinger falter, Nahida pressed forward. With her hands on her hips and a confident (yet still adorable) smile, she continued:
"Even if I was imprisoned, my consciousness was free to observe the world. My experiences may not be as dramatic as yours, but the insight I've gained over five hundred years should be just as valuable."
"Tch…"
Scaramouche began to run out of retorts, so Nahida went in for the finishing blow:
"Besides, I'm one of the Seven—an Archon. I possess true authority. I can protect my little brother. That's another reason why I'm the elder sister."
"Heh."
The word strength was all it took for Scaramouche to recover a little pride. He scoffed:
"What a joke. You were imprisoned by a group of scholars, and you think you can protect me?"
"Even if you gave up your Gnosis and became weaker, that doesn't mean I got weaker. You still can't beat me in a fight. If anything, I should be the one protecting you, right?"
"Mmm…"
Nahida looked a little pained. She blinked her emerald eyes and bit her lip reluctantly.
"I'm not good at fighting… but are you sure you can protect me?"
"Hmph. Of course. As long as I'm around, no one will hurt you."
"Then… I'll call you Brother."
"Hahahahaha! That's more like it!"
"..."
Watching Scaramouche laugh like a fool, Yilan raised his hand to his forehead.
This child is hopeless.
Even after obtaining the Heart of Glass—a symbol of wisdom—he's still adorably idiotic.
Nahida doesn't care about petty verbal victories. What she treasures are meaningful connections.
Sigh… at this rate, Scaramouche will be Nahida's loyal dog for the rest of his life.
...…Actually, being Nahida's dog doesn't sound too bad.
Sensing his teasing gaze, Nahida turned around and stuck out her tongue at him with a mischievous grin.
This was the first time Yilan had seen Nahida smile like that. She put her hands behind her back, leaned slightly to the side, and tilted her head. Her long hair cascaded down like moonlight. Her lips curved up, her brows curved, even her eyes smiled—the whole expression like a little fox who just pulled off a prank and was gleefully watching someone fall for it.
Yilan had to admit—Nahida was unbearably cute.
Now this cute little Archon was waving at him, signaling him to come closer.
Yilan leaned down, and Nahida stood on tiptoe to whisper in his ear:
"Dad, you like Miss Nilou, don't you?"
"Ahem!"
Yilan choked slightly. It was still a bit embarrassing to have his daughter—a petite girl in appearance—bringing up his love life.
But… she was over five hundred years old, and she knew plenty about his feelings for Nilou.
He nodded awkwardly.
"Yes."
Nahida continued whispering in a smaller, proud voice:
"I actually recorded your childhood memories from that timeline—the abuse you endured, your feelings for Miss Nilou, and the way you looked during the final battle… I compiled everything for her to see."
"She cried when she watched it. She was so moved. I'm sure she loves you even more now. I don't think she'll ever leave you again."
"…Huh."
Yilan never imagined he'd one day be relying on his daughter to help him win over a girl.
But…
Nahida, aren't you worried your mother—the Greater Lord Rukkhadevata—will find out?
Yilan didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Still, she had done it for him. He couldn't scold her now.
He reached out and gently patted Nahida's head.
"Well done, Nahida. But why did you go that far for me?"
Nahida put her hands behind her back and twisted shyly.
"Because… in the books I read, they say a daughter is her father's little cotton-padded jacket. So, I want to be your little cotton-padded jacket too."
"..."
Yilan felt his heart soften.
Nahida had accepted him as her father from the very beginning—five hundred years ago.
But he'd only just learned of the possibility last night. He hadn't even begun to process it.
Still… it's not too late to start now.
He stroked her soft hair and smiled warmly.
"Then I'll do my best to be a good father. By the way, Nahida, is there anything you want?"
"I want Daddy to tell me a bedtime story."
Nahida blinked her large green eyes at him, full of hope.
"When I roamed through Sumeru with my consciousness, I saw many parents telling their children stories before bed."
"Alright," Yilan chuckled. "Then tonight, I'll tell you the tale of 'The Seven Aranaras vs. the Snake and Scorpion Monsters.'"
How could he refuse such a simple wish?
But watching their warm exchange, Scaramouche grew visibly annoyed.
"How long are you two going to keep wasting time? Don't we have important things to deal with?"
Yilan came back to his senses. He straightened up and looked to Nahida.
"You understand why I came here this time, right?"
"Mm-hm."
Nahida nodded and gently raised her hands. A golden Canister of Knowledge appeared in her palms.
"Through this, we can locate Mother. Let's go and rescue her together!"
"Let me make one thing clear," Scaramouche growled beside them. "She is not my mother."