First: I won't deny that my mental state has been acting up. Over the past year, I've genuinely felt my headspace deteriorating by a significant margin.
Second: I also don't deny that I deliberately arranged for Shu to be abused.
The appearance of Abzu, the coordinated siege against Shu—those plot points were absolutely deliberate on my part. If you look at the overarching story, you could delete those specific scenarios entirely and it wouldn't impact the main plot all that much.
Third: Everyone keeps criticizing the massive power-creep gap between Shu and the rest of the cast. Honestly, I agree that it's a huge problem. This gaping disparity creates a massive disconnect where the burden of facing threats falls exclusively on Shu's shoulders, simply because no one else can keep up.
But even now, I haven't found a logically sound excuse to let the supporting cast suddenly skyrocket in power to match him.
After all, if Shu isn't on the front lines, you guys say there's a problem. If Shu is on the front lines, you still complain there's a problem. Even with the Herrscher of the Past and the Herrscher of Bonds (I Change it to, because you know why, to close with binding, as theresa there) bringing their own combat records to the table, it remains a heavily criticized issue.
Finally...
Am I just torturing Shu because my real life sucks, and he's the only one I can take my frustrations out on?
Well, setting aside the possibility that this accusation is just a toxic hater venting their spleen, let's assume you're a genuine reader criticizing me out of love for Shu.
If you clearly felt a sense of targeted malice in the writing, I can only say your instincts are spot on.
My personal writing process goes like this: I solidify the characters first, establish the objective environmental conditions second, and finally, I roleplay from the perspectives of those characters to figure out how they would break out of the crisis.
That's why I say my "chess match" against Shu isn't just an empty metaphor. When I'm setting up the board, I absolutely do not go easy on him. I actively try to orchestrate scenarios specifically designed to nerf him or lock down his overpowered bullshit.
Once the trap is set, I switch to Shu's POV and run through the board again, looking for a way out.
Then, I dive into Kiana's thought process, Mei's thought process, Otto's thought process, and so on. I use deep-immersion roleplay to genuinely calculate what every single person in the room is thinking. Finally, I weave all those thoughts and actions together into a complete narrative timeline, step back, and figure out how to frame the scenes for maximum dramatic payoff.
The upside to this method is that every character feels distinct, fleshed out, and real.
The downside is that heavy psychological roleplay means most conflicts can be resolved with a simple, five-minute conversation.
That's why, in Shu's story, you'll never see those tired, edgy tropes like "I must bear the weight of the world alone,""I have my own secret master plan," or "The whole world is my enemy, but I actually have a tragic, misunderstood reason."
Because in my story, people actually talk to each other. Any conflict born purely out of a simple misunderstanding is instantly squashed the moment they open their mouths.
There are no idiots who can't understand basic human speech here.
So, if I want to create a genuine rift between characters using the established lore, there is only one viable method:
"Why do birds fly?"
Only an irreconcilable, philosophical clash of ideals can generate intense conflict between characters. It cannot be mediated. It cannot be dodged.
Therefore, in Step One—designing the environment—I heavily prioritized setting up a philosophical paradox, rather than relying on clunky, contrived coincidences to force the plot forward.
Take the Mirror Herrscher arc, for example. If my only goal was to have two Shus punch each other in the face, I wouldn't have needed to get so aggressively avant-garde and psychological.
I could have just slapped down a standard "evil doppelganger" cliché. I could have hit Kiana, Mei, and Otto with the idiot ball, making them completely incapable of telling who the real Shu was. I could have even made them side with the fake, pushing Shu into committing the Sin of Envy. Wouldn't that have been a smooth, logical progression for a fight?
At most, I'd just add some contrived excuses: "Shu failed Kiana's secret pop quiz,""Mei used her own flawed intuition," or "Otto thought the fake was a more useful pawn." Just use their established stereotypes to justify the drama!
It would have been so incredibly easy. At the cost of just a little bit of OOC (Out of Character) writing, I could have turned the entire arc into a cheap, face-slapping power fantasy.
So why did I bother with that convoluted philosophical clash?
Why the hell would two versions of Shu—who share the exact same thoughts, goals, and preferences—diverge so violently on a single issue?
Why would a single dose of "Regret Medicine" drive the two of them to butcher each other?
Alright, let me carefully walk you through the logic.
First, let's establish their identities and completely throw out that cliché "whoever wins is the fake" trope from the Mirror Herrscher lore. For clarity: Shu is the Mirror Herrscher, and [Shu] is the original body.
Both Shu and [Shu]'s ultimate goal is exactly the same: "Protect everyone from threats and persecution, and refuse to accept the sacrifices or suffering of others as the price for peace."
The only difference between the two boils down to that incredibly abstract concept of "childlike innocence."
Let's ignore what exactly the loss of that innocence did to Shu's psyche for a moment, and look at how the two of them planned to use the Core of the Past (the Regret Medicine).
Shu wanted to use the Core of the Past to resurrect the people killed in the Great Eruption. With Arc City as a precedent, Shu firmly believed he could pull it off. He was well aware of Yun Mengxi's sacrifice, so from the very beginning, he braced himself for the worst-case scenario:
"I will sacrifice myself to buy back a massive chunk of the living population, thereby generating more hope and evolutionary potential to drastically leapfrog civilization's overall power."
And to cover the brief period of vulnerability his death would cause, Shu's solution was to have [Shu] take up his mantle. Shu intended to use his own life to massively buff [Shu], narrowing the apocalyptic gap between humanity and the Herrscher of Finality.
So, what was [Shu]'s perspective?
He obviously knew Shu's plan was "Sacrifice Shu to buff [Shu]." But he categorically refused to accept a power-up bought with someone else's blood—even if that someone was literally himself.
Through all their prior interactions, their bond had deepened to the point where Shu was completely willing to die for [Shu], and [Shu] absolutely refused to let him do it.
Why did [Shu] reject the plan? Was it just sentimental weakness making him abandon a legitimate path to power? Wouldn't that be irresponsible to the rest of humanity?
Of course not.
I emphasized this repeatedly in that volume: the Mirror Core did not split or dilute their individual combat strength. So practically speaking, Fire-Moth just gained an extra, fully-powered Shu out of thin air.
That alone was a colossal buff. A tangible, immediate reinforcement. In [Shu]'s eyes, Shu's goal of "enhancing human civilization's strength" had already been achieved.
Shu's very existence was the power-up [Shu] wanted!
To him, the world was already getting better. You are the hope for the future. Why resort to extreme, suicidal measures for a gamble with an unknown success rate?
And how did Shu counter [Shu]'s doubts to stick to his guns?
Time! It's all about time, brother!
This sadistic hack of an author dropped nine Herrschers on us in half a year! What makes you think that bastard won't just throw the Finality right at our faces in the next second?!
Can the two of us beat the Finality together? Since we can't, why won't you let me die to give you the raw combat stats we actually need to win?!
And that put [Shu] in an agonizing position.
Wait, how can you be so sure you're the absolute last miracle we have left? Furthermore, the buff your existence brings right now is a certainty. The fact that you'll die attempting this is a certainty. The ONLY thing that's uncertain is whether your sacrifice will actually grant the power-up you're hoping for! Why take that gamble?!
Play it safe! Just play it safe! If we work together, the results won't necessarily be worse than what you'd buy with your life!
Shu: Do you think I don't know exactly what we're capable of?! The two of us combined have zero chance against the Finality!
[Shu]: And your sacrificial buff is guaranteed to win?! You think your little quantitative change will miraculously trigger a qualitative leap?!
Shu: It's still better than sitting on our asses waiting for a miracle that isn't coming!
So, that was it. Even though they were literal soul-brothers, their ideologies crashed. They knew exactly what the other was thinking, but one wanted to die, and the other refused to let him. Logically and emotionally, both sides had valid points.
There was no other option. They had to beat the living hell out of each other and drag the loser home.
That is why the two Shus had to fight. They had already communicated perfectly, and the result of that communication was two stubborn mules realizing that only a fistfight would determine who got to make the final call.
And why did Abzu show up? Why did the Imaginary Constructs—and specifically Husk: Delusion—spawn with such targeted precision?
Because Abzu was just the cleanup crew for that battle. The Mirror Herrscher had already fulfilled its narrative purpose the moment the fight broke out. Shu dragging Abzu down with him in mutual destruction was the actual plot twist.
The Imaginary Constructs spawned because reality in Sapphire City had been tampered with. If you want to call all of this my underlying malice, if you want to curse me, say I'm abusing Shu, call me inhuman, or hurl profanities at me—I accept it all completely.
I wrote that suffering precisely so you would curse me. The harsher you curse me, the more I know you love Shu. Every ounce of your love for him that translates into hatred for me, I accept without a single word of rebuttal.
But if you question why the two Shus had to fight in the first place, then I have to seriously wonder if you actually understood the core themes of that chapter.
And as for those accusing me of writing the characters OOC... I'm just going to blatantly state that you are a purebred, bad-faith troll venting your own toxic headcanons.
If you say my Part 1.5 or Part 2 characters are OOC, that might genuinely be my fault. Ever since Part 1 of the official game ended, I've basically been coasting on the lore. I haven't replayed the post-Part 1 story extensively, and a lot of the details I only know secondhand from Wiki dives or playthrough videos. I didn't meticulously dissect the in-game text word-by-word like I did for Part 1.
So my understanding of the Part 2 cast is largely based on stereotypes.
But Kiana and the core cast? Characters I've been obsessively deconstructing and mimicking since 2016? You're telling me my Kiana is OOC?
What exactly is your definition of an "in-character" Kiana?
"Growing up as childhood friends would easily straighten Kiana out!" — Is that not OOC?
"If you get tortured and suffer to protect her, Kiana will fall madly in love with you!" — Is that not OOC?
"As long as you spend every day with her, treating her gently like a father/older brother, taking care of her, and giving her all the love she lacked in childhood, she'll naturally fall for you!" — Is that not OOC?!
Stop talking out of your ass.
Why did Kiana fall for Mei?
Before the Theater of Thunder arc, back when the lore for Guns Girl Z (Honkai Gakuen 2) and Honkai Impact 3rd heavily overlapped, Kiana liked Mei because Mei was a "weak person" who needed her protection.
The innate Kaslana knight-errant complex practically forced Kiana to stand between Mei and the world. She acutely sensed Mei's internal struggle (standing alone on that rooftop, resisting the urge to destroy everything), so she went to her.
That iconic line, "Idiot, I'm trying to save you!" is the entire reason her fate intertwined with Mei's.
Do you genuinely believe a warm hearth and a soft bed could tether a wandering stray like Kiana? Do you think just because she was a nomad, she was desperate for love? Adoption? Being roommates? Getting picked up off the street?
Do you even understand the narrative weight of Deep Snow Asakura in the Three-Year Cherry Blossoms arc?!
Kiana was roaming the world with one primary goal: finding her father, while casually blasting any bad guys she met into orbit along the way.
I don't know if that scene in the Second Eruption simulation where Kiana acts spoiled with Cecilia somehow convinced people that Kiana is just severely affection-starved, or made them think enrolling her in Chiba Academy would magically make her settle down.
She was a transfer student. She didn't actually test into that school!
If she had stayed at Chiba Academy for a while and no Honkai eruption occurred, and she found zero clues about her dad, she would have packed her bags and left immediately. Believe it!
Honestly, I'm still not entirely sure if Cocolia implanting the Gem of Conquest into Mei is what drew Kiana there, or if Kiana came to Nagazora because she investigated a link between her father and Anti-Entropy (ME Corp).
Maybe she was subconsciously drawn by the Gem inside Mei, or maybe, like in GGZ, she had a Honkai energy radar and came specifically hunting for the eruption.
Or maybe Otto or Theresa fed her fake intel to lure her there (Theresa is a prime suspect—in the old official black-and-white manga, Theresa has a very heavy, surprised reaction shot when she first sees Kiana).
Regardless, Kiana is an incredibly pragmatic, action-oriented person. How could she possibly be trapped by some soft-boy romance, or melt into a clingy, pocket-sized girlfriend accessory?!
That is what it means to be hit with the idiot ball.
Secondly, does suffering and sacrificing yourself to save her actually win Kiana's romantic affection?
No! It just makes her hate herself for being useless!
If you bleed and suffer for her, she doesn't think, "Wow, I'm so moved by his love." She thinks, "I am absolutely worthless." She is always moved by the struggles of others—whether it's for you, for him, or for the whole world.
Just like how Elysia seemingly loved everyone from the moment she was born, Kiana is exactly the same. She is innately moved by anyone trying their hardest to survive and live a better life, and she feels equal, agonizing empathy for everyone's suffering.
So if she sees you get hurt, she will grieve for you. She will be touched. But that emotional threshold isn't romantically exclusive to you.
She will internalize it all as her own failure. She will believe she failed to protect everyone. She will blame herself for being too weak, too cowardly, and failing to clear the obstacles out of your path.
All she will feel toward you is an overwhelming, indebted guilt that she must repay.
Romantic infatuation? Are you out of your mind?
Kiana's romantic arc with Mei is incredibly complete, especially when you factor in the Theater of Thunder.
It started with Kiana standing beside Mei out of her Kaslana sense of duty and her righteous urge to protect the weak. Then, as she noticed Mei's emotional dependency, a sense of responsibility took root. Combined with Kiana's naturally boisterous personality, she was simply incapable of a boring, platonic friendship.
Teasing her friends while fiercely protecting them—that's just how she interacts.
Later, when the Honkai erupted, Mei's suicidal despair pushed Kiana's sense of duty to its absolute peak. It was only after that rooftop declaration that their relationship officially crossed the point of no return.
Even after that, Kiana and Mei's dynamic was actually pretty normal up until Lament of the Fallen. They were just a standard couple, without that extreme, codependent "till death do us part" vibe (well, Mei was definitely already on that wavelength, but Kiana wasn't).
It wasn't until Lament of the Fallen that their dynamic truly exploded.
For the first time in her life, the girl who always saved others was the one being saved. By standard shoujo logic, even the most stubborn girl would be on her knees groveling to win her partner back after a breakup like that.
But what was Kiana doing? She was drowning in self-doubt!
Why? Because Kiana is a coward who refuses to accept reality?
No! She was interrogating herself over why she didn't train harder!
Why didn't I spend every single second of my free time getting stronger?!
Yes, that is what she was agonizing over. She completely respected and understood Mei's choice. She just couldn't forgive herself for being powerless to stop it.
And then the Herrscher of Dominance came along and beat her self-confidence right back into her.
More accurately, the Herrscher of Dominance shoved the Gem of Haste into the equation and Kiana went completely super-critical. The Kaslana duty that had been clogging her brain suddenly cleared up, especially since the negativity paralyzing her was the exact same societal darkness the Legion Herrscher was preaching about.
That moment triggered a total epiphany. She achieved the ultimate unity of knowledge and action: "I know what I am doing, I know what I must do, I know why I am doing it, and I know exactly what the consequences will be."
No hesitation. No regrets. No wavering. No deviating.
When Kiana essentially achieved sainthood, her feelings for Mei ascended right alongside her: "I know I love her, and I know she loves me. Therefore, this love will never change."
That is how Kiana's love for Mei solidified, okay?!
At the end of the day, Kiana's love for Mei requires no justification or underlying cause. It is a pure, conceptual reliance—a genuine appreciation of the beauty in her life.
To put it bluntly, what Kiana loves is the feeling of: "My path is not walked alone; there is always someone shining like a star, walking beside me." What truly captivated her wasn't Mei saying, "You are more important to me than the world."
What captivated her was the fact that Mei would stand by her side and face the darkness together with her, no matter what.
She didn't even care if Mei was useful in a fight. She just cared that, outside of herself, someone else was fighting the exact same desperate battle on the exact same path.
Even if Mei was a hopelessly codependent simp whose only reason for being on the battlefield was because Kiana was there.
So... you really think just treating Kiana nicely will make her fall head over heels for you?
Are you delusional?
If you don't become Kiana's brother-in-arms—her literal comrade—you think you can even get close to her?
And if you do become her comrade, you think you'd actually have the free time to try and date her?!
You either become a gravity-well of codependency captivated by Kiana (competing directly for Mei's exact ecological niche), or you become her comrade, bleeding beside her for the beautiful future that belongs to all of humanity.
Dating?
Mei is objectively the most perfect romantic partner for Kiana! That ship is permanently locked! (For Shu just ask her if she want both)
And you say I'm writing her OOC? Are you kidding me?
As for the shift in my writing style, and the obvious bloating, pretentiousness, and padding in the latter half of the book... the reason for that is very simple.
I'm an idiot. I'm a hack.
You have every right to hurl insults at me. Mental burnout is not a valid excuse. If the reading experience sucks, it sucks, and you don't need to make excuses for me.
If you hate it, curse me out. If you're still mad after cursing me out, drop the book. If you drop it and you're still mad, come back and hurl a few more creative insults at me. Your emotions are yours to process, and you should prioritize your own catharsis.
This book has simply dragged on for too long. So long, in fact, that my own thought processes have become calcified by it.
Over the past two years, all the stray inspiration I've had was either forcefully jammed into this book or shelved indefinitely to gather dust. Consequently, as time went on, I felt increasingly incapable of writing smooth transitional chapters. Only when I hit a major climax that I had been dying to write from the start did my prose return to its original standard.
For example, the evolution battle on the Arahato in the Past volume, or Shu throwing himself off the overpass, or the ideological deathmatch between the two Shus... I'm still incredibly proud of those scenes. As for the rest...
If you clearly feel a massive, jarring discrepancy in the writing quality between different arcs, don't doubt your instincts. You didn't just scarf down a Michelin-star meal too fast to appreciate the flavor. You literally just ate a plate of shit.