Before her stood the Raiden Shogun—tall, regal, utterly immovable. The light caught the edge of her violet gaze as she regarded the vendor with calm, unreadable patience.

A pause. Her fingers, pale and elegant, rested at her side. She glanced down at herself, then back at the vendor, as if only now recalling a minor but crucial detail.

Her voice was soft, but final. The vendor looked like she might faint.

Her gaze swept the street, catching on a familiar figure making their way up the slope. A flicker of recognition crossed her composed features—subtle, but unmistakable. The faintest tension left her shoulders.

She did not raise her voice. She simply spoke as though she had known they would appear, as though the universe was expected to arrange such convenient coincidences.