Klee's voice came through the thin walls like a bell.
"Brother Takumi, Brother Takumi! Wake up! The sea says 'boom'!"
Takumi blinked awake, more from the chorus of enthusiasm than any alarm clock. The sky outside was only just brightening, cool mist still rising from Guili Plains. Klee, impossibly energetic as always, had already been up for hours.
"You ever sleep, Klee?" he mumbled as he swung his legs out of bed.
"Klee already slept!" she chirped, plopping down with a bowl of steaming bun sandwiches Verr Goldet had sent. "I woke up early!"
Takumi could only stare in resigned admiration. She'd prepared the charges last night and had been awake ever since, double-checked, triple-checked, humming little songs as she lined up her fuses. The kid had the sort of energy that made a rooster look indecisive.
Keqing was already up as well—stoic, crisp, and with an expression that said she'd already mentally reorganized three departments and two supply chains before breakfast. "Morning. Are we on schedule?" she asked.
"We're starting the pier," Takumi replied. "I want the main trench deep within three days. If Klee's precise—and Sucrose confirms the readings—we can have a functioning segment sooner."
Keqing nodded. "Good. Safety lines at ten paces outward. No exceptions."
They found Klee chatting with Verr Goldet at the inn's front, discussing the merits of "booming" sea cucumbers (Verr Goldet was firmly against). After Ye Olde Bun consumption and final checks, Takumi led Klee and Keqing down to the bamboo raft waiting by the shallows.
Klee unrolled a crayon-sketched map from her satchel and thrust it at them with pride. Her map looked like a heroic battle plan drawn by a minstrel: big arrows, stars, and exploding smiley faces. Keqing hid a smile. Takumi suppressed a snort.
"Alright," Takumi said. "We'll follow your plan, but with a few technical tweaks."
Klee's face lit up. "Brother Takumi! Klee's plan plus technical tweaks! The best!"
Setting the Charges
They paddled out to the first marked spot. The morning water clung to the raft like a shimmering blanket. Takumi pointed to a submerged shelf. "Drop the first charge just here. Aim for the seam where the bedrock thins. That'll open the pocket above the underground river."
Klee fished a bowl-sized charge from her pack. It was a curious contraption of cork, tightly-woven oilcloth, and a scrap of alchemically-treated fuse Sucrose had tempered for underwater stability. She didn't fluff her hair or overthink it—she simply lobbed it into the glimmering water.
"Drop!" she commanded cheerfully.
Takumi pushed off hard. The raft slid away, skittering across the surface like a leaf.
BOOM!
A geyser punched the dawn, a vertical art of water and rock. Spray fell across the raft; Klee squealed with delight.
"It worked!" she crowed, clapping. "More! More!"
They repeated the pattern—smaller detonations to open pockets and larger, carefully-timed charges to create controlled collapses. Klee handled the throws like an artist: deliberate, playful, and wholly confident. Each explosion coupled with the next through shockwaves, and Klee's "mom trick"—chaining detonations—meant less individual fusing and more orchestra-like timing.
Keqing watched the soundings on Sucrose's tablet. Numbers scrolled: depth, substrate density, turbidity levels. Sucrose stood near the edge, pale but grinning with nerdish excitement. "Shockwaves within predicted range. No lateral fissures detected yet," she reported, voice tremulous with relief and pride. "Sediment displacement within tolerable parameters."
Zhongli arrived at the shore quietly, his figure modest against the sea-glow. He sipped tea as the blasts reverberated. "Such… enthusiastic labor," he said, amused. "There is ceremony in the noise."
Ganyu, who had risen with the dawn to shepherd supplies, passed Takumi a thermos. "All reading stable. Fishers were informed and relocated for safety," she said softly. "Thank you for warning them."
Takumi was grateful. The operation felt, at moments, like orchestrating a complicated ritual—except the altar was seawater and the chant was Klee's delight.
The Bigger Charges
Once the pattern of smaller holes linked into a lattice, Klee prepared her larger charges. These were waterproofed with Sucrose's glaze and packed in cushioning foam to withstand water pressure. Keqing supervised placement coordinates with a hardness that made the Qianyan soldiers obey like metronomes.
"Klee," Takumi said, kneeling to meet her eyes, "the large charges must go into the deepest pockets you've created. I'll mark the drill points. When I give the signal, you throw. Then we back the raft out—fast."
Klee's face took on a look of determined solemnity. "Klee will be careful. No accidental island-making."
They set the final charges. Takumi checked them twice, three times, a habit from his mechanical days when a missed bolt could ruin a whole day's work. He tapped his Vision discreetly; the System ticked a private note.
[SYSTEM — PRIVATE]
Pier Excavation Sequence Initiated.
Expected Depth Gain: 2–4 meters.
Environmental flag: low–moderate. Monitor turbidity.
Recommendation: Deploy sediment barriers post-blast.
He sent a brief instruction to Sucrose's monitor array: raise filtration curtains after detonation; sample water every ten minutes for pH and particulates.
Klee grinned and tossed the first of her "bigger" bombs.
THUNDER.
A spectacular underwater thunder rolled like a drumbeat. The raft rocked; birds burst from nearby reeds. When the silt settled, the depth readings ticked upward. The trench grew deeper, the seabed jaggedly rearranged in their favor.
Workers onshore cheered. Some fell to their knees in quiet awe. A handful of docked boats bobbed safely, cheers muffled by distance. This was physical proof—the ocean had shifted to make room.
Keqing pinched the bridge of her nose, half-exasperated, half-impressed. "Don't turn the entire coastline into a cavity, Klee."
"Klee didn't!" Klee retorted indignantly. "Klee made a nice swimming pool for giant ships!"
Unexpected Hiccups — Comedy & Cost
A small comedy of errors ensued: one of Klee's charges, a little larger than intended, spat a chunk of bedrock sideways, which pinged a Qianyan soldier's helmet like a bell. The soldier turned beet-red; for a beat everyone feared reprimand—but the helmet only bent into a ridiculous hat, and the soldier burst into laughter.
Another mishap: a vendor's cart of preserved moonberries had rolled a bit too close and took a sprinkle of seawater—market sour faces turned into sales jingles as the "salted moonberry" became an accidental delicacy. Xiangling, who had come to watch, snatched a sample and declared it tasted "interesting," instantly creating a new menu idea.
Amid the laughs, Takumi's ledger blinked a more serious alert.
[SYSTEM — PRIVATE]
Budget Update: Additional maritime reinforcement materials required due to silt displacement. Projected extra spend: 1.2 million Mora.
Note: Suggest Ningguang tranche release or merchant advance contracts.
Takumi swallowed. The pier's success had consequences—silt removal, temporary coffer dams, more rebar than expected, and the need for divers to clear certain stubborn slabs. Funds that Ningguang had promised in tranches had been earmarked; the shortfall was now real.
He quietly drafted a concise request and sent it via Baiwen to Ningguang: an honest note explaining the unexpected reinforcement costs, accompanied by photographs of the finished trench—a visual proof of progress.
Ningguang replied with that same soft-edged steel: an initial approval of another one million Mora, contingent on an expedited shipment contract for cement and glass to Mondstadt. If Takumi could secure a purchase agreement (even a small one), she'd free the funds.
Takumi acknowledged. He had work to do.
Sucrose's Readings & Ecology
Sucrose, however, had news brighter than any ledger. Her monitors showed turbidity spikes that dissipated faster than feared; seabed life—small crustaceans—had been observed to relocate, not die. The underground river had indeed been opened, and currents were settling into a stable new pattern. "The scouring action is clearing silt where the current accelerates," she said, eyes wide. "It's cleansing sediments rather than suffocating life."
Ganyu smiled. "Then shall we proceed with controlled reinforcement. The initial readings are promising."
Keqing drew up a phased plan: silt barriers first, then localized divers' sweeps using adepti-approved Geo supports for safety, while Albedo (who'd been invited but occupied with material tests) would consult on stone fragmentation disposal. Takumi noted contact details.
They worked late into the day, mapping next steps. Klee, practiced now, bounded and assisted Sucrose with her little measuring rods—careful, precise, and still singing. Sucrose, though exhausted, was buoyant with the thrill of real-world science—seed trials by day, marine stabilization by morning: the cross-disciplinary life she'd dreamed of.
A Quiet Word from Zhongli
As twilight unfolded, Zhongli stepped forward on the shore and addressed the gathered crew. His voice, calm and resonant, carried across the site.
"You have carved a new breath into the land today," he said. "This is no small feat. But let it be done with a steady hand and a diligent heart. Remember, one foundation built hastily can create sorrow generations later. Balance the energy of creation with the patience of preservation."
Keqing bowed, Klee bounced, Sucrose blushed, and Takumi simply nodded. The words sat like a seal on a strategy—go forward, but carefully.
Nightfall — Plans & Promises
That night, Takumi sat at his desk under a single lantern, tallying progress against cost, drafting the purchase proposal for Mondstadt that Ningguang required, and updating the construction schedule. The pier trench was deeper; the first dock segment had a stable ledge; silt barriers were being placed. Klee snored softly in her bunk—a peaceful, satisfied snore—and Sucrose wrote feverish notes for tomorrow's trials.
Takumi's System flagged one last item in private.
[SYSTEM — PRIVATE]
Milestone Achieved: Pier Trench Phase I — Complete.
Unlock Candidate: Foundation automation subproject (requires funding + craftsmen).
Risk: Increased visibility — political attention may rise.
Takumi exhaled. Visibility rising was both a blessing and a complication: more attention meant more potential partners, but also more stakeholders to manage. For now, though, the sound of the sea, the creak of bamboo rafts, the muted laughter of exhausted workers, and the steady pulse of progress was enough.
He closed his ledger and stepped outside. The pier's silhouette was a promise in the night, a jagged new tooth in the shoreline where ships might soon kiss Liyue's new edge. Klee blinked awake, whispered "Boom?" and then slept again with the satisfied smile of someone who'd done what she loved and done it right.
Takumi stood on the veranda, hands in his pockets, and whispered, not to any system or god but to the plain air, "One more day."
And the sea, having been moved by a child's careful hands and a stranger's blueprints, answered in soft tides against the freshly carved stones.