Dawn arrived carrying an unusual stillness with it. The sun’s rays, soft and pale, filtered through the windows, as if even the sky itself were holding its breath for what was to come. I woke early, the weight of responsibility wrapping around every thought. I knew that today would mark a turning point, both for me and for Inazuma’s fate.

Ei’s silence in my mind felt strange, as though she shared the same tension I was feeling. That pause made me wonder whether she too was reflecting on what was about to happen, or if she was simply leaving me to deal with my own thoughts.

I went to the bathroom, where hot water filled the tub and steam rose in spirals, helping to clear my mind and awaken my senses. I knew I couldn’t afford a single mistake today. The Tenryou Commission was on its way, and with them, the chance to correct the mistakes I had made.

I chose one of the Shogun’s most formal kimonos—a majestic outfit of dark silk with golden embroidery depicting lightning and clouds, a symbol of authority and power. As I tightened the obi around my waist, I noticed a slight tremble in my hands. I tried to control it, breathing deeply.

“Calm down, you can do this,”
I told myself, trying to impose the serenity expected of the Raiden Shogun.

“Today will be a long day, but remember why we’re doing this,”
Ei said suddenly, her tone far softer than usual. There was no sarcasm or mockery in her words—only a firmness meant to give me strength.

When I was ready, I headed to the residence’s main hall. Kujou Sara was already there, standing tall, her posture straight and her gaze firm. Her loyalty was unwavering, something I had always appreciated. Still, there was something in her eyes that reflected a mix of surprise and respect. Perhaps she could sense the change in me—a renewed determination.

“Shogun,” Sara said as she bowed, “the Tenryou Commission will arrive shortly. The preparations are complete.”

I nodded solemnly, feeling the weight of her gaze upon me. “Thank you, Sara. Today is an important day, and I will need your support.”

She nodded once more, her expression just as serious.

“Always at your service, Shogun. I am ready for whatever is necessary.”

It was comforting to know that, even amid all the chaos, I still had people I could trust at my side.

Time passed in a heavy silence, each second feeling like an eternity as we awaited the commission’s arrival. At last, the firm footsteps of the Tenryou Commission members echoed through the corridor, and my heart began to beat faster. The head of the commission—a man with a face marked by years of battle and a severe expression—entered the hall, followed by several high-ranking officers. He bowed deeply before me, his movements filled with respect.

“Shogun Raiden, it is an honor to stand in your presence,”
the general said, his voice firm, yet carrying a formality that underscored the gravity of the situation.

I studied him carefully, taking in his stance and his probing gaze. I nodded slowly, knowing that what I was about to say would change everything.

“General,” I began, taking a deep breath to steady myself, “I have summoned you today not only to speak about our troops, but to correct a grave mistake.”

The general raised an eyebrow, visibly surprised. Around him, the officers exchanged confused glances, but none dared to speak. I knew this was delicate—that I was going against what they had long accepted as truth. But there was no turning back, not after I had understood what I truly needed to do for my nation.

“I have reflected deeply on the Vision Hunt Decree,” I continued, my voice filled with resolve. “I enacted it under a mistaken idea of what eternity truly means. I was blinded by fear of change. But I have come to understand that eternity is not immobility; it is the ability to grow and evolve with time.”

The air in the room seemed to grow heavier. The tension was palpable, as if everyone present were holding their breath, waiting to see where this would lead. Ei remained silent, but I could feel her presence in my mind, her understanding of what was at stake. I knew this decision went against what she had defended for centuries, but I also knew it was she who had given me the strength to see the truth.

“Today, I announce the abolition of the Vision Hunt Decree,”
I finally declared, watching as the expressions of those present shifted from shock to disbelief. The news struck like a storm—swift and unexpected.

The general remained silent for a moment, processing what he had just heard. His eyes narrowed slightly, as if searching my face for any sign of doubt.

“Shogun… are you saying we will put an end to the collection of Visions? That we will abandon our fight against the resistance?”
he asked, his voice trembling with a mix of astonishment and confusion.

I nodded, holding his gaze firmly.

“That is correct. This war has claimed far too many lives, and we cannot continue destroying our own people. I have come to understand that Inazuma’s true strength lies not in control, but in mutual trust between its leader and its citizens.”

The general took a deep breath, as though trying to find the right words to respond.

“This… will be a tremendous change, Shogun. Are you certain this is the right course?”

“I am,” I replied, maintaining eye contact. “Inazuma needs peace, not more suffering. We must stand together as a nation, not as enemies at war.”

The silence in the room was crushing. Everyone waited for the general’s reaction, his face remaining neutral, though his eyes reflected the inner struggle he was fighting. I knew this would be a decisive moment—not just for me, but for all of Inazuma. The general’s response would determine the course of the days to come.