After handling affairs in Inazuma, Aether set off for Sumeru, a land locally known as the "Nation of Wisdom." The Archon of Sumeru appears to be a child, but in fact, has existed for 500 years. Around 600 years ago, this region experienced a catastrophe brought about by forbidden knowledge, though this was merely one facet of a much larger event. At that time, the entire continent of Teyvat was drawn into a mysterious divine conflict, commonly referred to as the "Teyvat World War." Every nation participated, countless gods perished, and those who emerged victorious eventually became the current Seven Archons, now ruling the Seven Nations.
During the war, Sumeru's Archon safeguarded the World Tree—a construct that records every event across Teyvat and functions as the continent's database. Forbidden knowledge behaves like a spreading curse: it accelerates the world's entropy and afflicts the local population with an incurable disease known as "Eleazar." Upon arrival, Aether found that Sumeru operated under a technocratic regime—one that seemed advanced even by modern standards. Ideologically, Sumeru pursued a "God Creation Plan," aimed at engineering an infallible deity to govern the nation. They employed devices akin to brain-machine interfaces to harvest citizens' cognitive abilities, thereby accelerating the project. Before Aether's arrival, the highest administrative body, the Akademiya, had been secretly executing this plan. Afterward, with the help of the "True Grass God," Aether overthrew the Akademiya and assumed its position. The Grass God did not dissolve the institution entirely but instead stripped its leadership and restored the so-called "Grass God Orthodoxy" upon ascending.
In the human capital of the Western Asian Republic:
Leander Gray gazed at the Salvation Machine, feeling a profound sense of relief. Turning to the chief engineer beside him, he asked, "How much longer until your project is complete?"The chief engineer placed his fist firmly over his chest and replied with unwavering resolve, "Great Leader! We will have it fully operational in two days! The enemy's end is near! Long live our Emperor for ten thousand years!""The enemy's end is near! Long live our Emperor for ten thousand years!" the others echoed in unison.
Gray nodded approvingly. "Comrades, the road to a new era lies ahead! The future of Greater Western Asia will be in our hands! We shall declare to the world the supremacy of absolute rational governance and show them what the ideal society should look like! The enemy's system has completely rotted away! All of Greater Western Asia shall belong to us in the end! We will crush every nation that opposes us under the iron hooves of our army! They will realize that it was us—our army, our Salvation Machine—who saved Greater Western Asia and the entire world! Ahem…"Clearing his throat, Gray continued, "Furthermore, we will ensure that those who fled to other worlds are punished! They are eternal enemies of the Empire! Forever unforgivable!"
After speaking, he silently repeated the words to himself: "Forever unforgivable."
The director, having completed his duties, returned to his office. Instead of hurrying to write in his journal, he picked up a novel titled The Ugly Old World. Perhaps out of sheer boredom, he uncharacteristically began making notes in the book.
Meanwhile, Miller sat quietly in his small office, sipping a cup of coffee. Recently, the office measured only 8 meters long, 5 meters wide, and 2 meters high. The walls were decorated with photos of himself, the former UN Secretary-General, and newspaper clippings from various films. On his desk were a neatly arranged pen holder, a computer, and stacks of documents. Although he was no longer the UN's High Commissioner for Teyvat, he retained one document.
Next to his computer sat a faded family photo facing him, showing his foster father. The photo was taken by a local journalist in front of a modest house. The next day, it appeared in a newspaper under the bold headline Integrity and Reality. Miller's foster father had bought a copy, carefully cut out the photo of himself and Miller, and used his savings to buy a frame, giving it to Miller as a gift.
On the day his foster father was killed by rebels, Miller clutched the photo tightly. He still remembered the overwhelming fear that consumed him, and how the photo was his only source of comfort. He had preserved it well, though faint cracks, wrinkles, and yellowing had crept in over the years.
As he gazed at the photo, a phrase suddenly surfaced in his mind: "Never point a gun at yourself, and ideally, not at your enemies either"—words his foster father had told him at the age of twelve. But now, Miller had his own interpretation: "Never point a gun at yourself—but it's best to aim at your enemy, for their guns will surely aim at you." His foster father's death at the hands of the rebels had burned that lesson into him, shaping his own twisted understanding of the world.