Fending off Psycho Fischl's attacks was but a physical dimension of Fischl's struggle, and her emotional struggle came from wrestling with the pain of having lost Oz. Loneliness still weighed on her heart, but this being the second time made it at least bearable. Shooting Psycho Fischl's arrows out of the air, she strafed away from Oz's fired bolts.
Oz said, "The Prinzessin and Ozvaldo shall swallow all dreams, then cast a veil of eternal night and usher in the Immernachtreich. All who oppose its advent shall be smited."
"Naught but delusion!" Fischl struggled to compose her prose under fire. "The Prinzessin acts out of benediction; guided by benevolence and advised by experience. To set this world at the end of time ablaze to purify, rejuvenate and restart, not to crush innocents underfoot!"
Psycho Fischl sneered, "Do you know what I've realized in all my travels, Fischl? All life in this universe is but a grain of sand in an infinitely huge desert. You saw it, didn't you? We're all connected by these threads of fate, weaved in an endless loom. From that perspective, the fragile value of life is rendered worthless through sheer numbers. What is but one world in the infinitude of the multiverse?"
Fischl shuddered at her doppelganger's tone. In Psycho Fischl's voice was an utter faith in her mission; above lives, above nations and even entire worlds. To stop was to fall apart and die. That put an inhuman wind in her sails and drove her to unthinkable lows.
All in the name of making that twilight empire a reality.
"The Prinzessin rejects such equivalence. An empire built upon the blood of innocents is inexorably blackened by sin, and shall never have a place in any universe."
Psycho Fischl scowled. "That you realize the Immernachtreich is fiction in every universe, yet aren't compelled to make it a reality means you do not embody the Prinzessin's spirit like I do. You're just a fake, nothing compared to the real deal."
Her words stung, but Fischl saw what Psycho Fischl was attempting. No matter if it was unwitting or deliberate, it deserved to be called out.
"Do you think just because this Prinzessin realizes the same truths as thou hath, that she'd opt for such a destructive and soulless endeavor? Art thou attempting to justify thine own fall by dragging another Prinzessin into your black depths of depravity?"
Fischl hated to admit it, but Psycho Fischl embodied the sliver of a chance she might have fallen. But right now, surrounded by the fallout of such a destructive pursuit to become the 'real Prinzessin,' Fischl realized the importance of her own fetters.
Fetters, in the form of friends and family which bound her to this world and enriched her life. Akin to a cruel miser's change of heart after a near-death event, Fischl now realized the renewed worth of such bonds. They meant everything to her, multiverse or not. In fact, it was because of this multiverse's infinitude which made these bonds so much more precious.
Every friend could've been a stranger, or worse still, a nemesis. Fischl's loving parents could've been abusive in another world. So was it not prudent to cherish them as they were? To hold them close in love, closer still in relief at who they turned out to be to mean so much to her?
The warmth of this realization flowed through Fischl and banished that cold grip of terror.
Let it be said, Fischl never hid her emotions very well. This realization must've been written on her own face, because every fiber of Psycho Fischl's body electrified with disdain towards Fischl. Towards the warmth from which she drew strength, that same warmth Psycho Fischl had abandoned to embrace darkness.
To become the Prinzessin.
Fischl refused to back down. Strange, that Psycho Fischl once seemed as peerless and unreachable as the moon. But now, her doppelganger brimmed with a frenzied determination bordering on desperation.
And that wasn't the only turn of events.
The chaos around them was disordered and random to the untrained. Even then, Fischl felt more than saw the change around them. This great crash of Elemental powers formed the tide of battle, and a shift in it contributed to this feeling.
They were winning.
Everything Chongyun had thrown at his doppelganger had been returned in kind by another spell. Chongyun now knelt, his reserves spent and himself fatigued. Psycho Chongyun doddered, moved more by his magical cape than his own two feet. Even then, he loomed over Chongyun in a victorious gloat. As much as Chongyun hated to admit it, Psycho Chongyun's magic tools had provided him leeway after a slogfest of sorcery against exorcism.
"You're a philistine, after all. You exorcists smite everything you refuse to understand, and could never compare to us artistic sorcerers."
Chongyun needed a few more seconds. Just a few seconds to catch his breath before getting back up.
His breath froze at the sight of a wounded Xingqiu behind Psycho Chongyun. He couldn't tear his gaze away from Xingqiu's sneaking approach, and feared he'd give away his friend's ambush.
Psycho Chongyun sneered. "The 'look behind you' trick? How droll." Chongyun's concern gave way to relief. Xingqiu moved like a shadow, guided by his pranking experience.
"Rain outlines your fate!" His Elemental Skill struck Psycho Chongyun square in the back. Chongyun shoved himself back upright, his fists thrown up and himself ready to finish the fight. Only to recoil from Psycho Chongyun shoving something at them.
"Hiyah!" Chongyun brandished his yang energy in defense, only to be confused at the lack of magic being cast.
He soon realized why.
"You didn't write on your tags with waterproof ink? Careless of you." The tag ink had been smudged, and without the proper symbols, no magic could occur.
Psycho Chongyun hurled the tags aside, then reached for his phone. Chongyun lunged, but his doppelganger's drenched cape dragged him a hair out of reach.
Only for the phone to vanish in a blur.
Chongyun saw an arrow in a wall, on it the impaled phone. Yelan appeared, hurt but alive. Chongyun's heart soared. Since Xingqiu's Elemental Skill had drenched Psycho Chongyun's cape, it floundered and dragged its master along the ground, useless.
Psycho Chongyun froze at the turnabout. "Er, hold on, now, three on one's a bit unfair…"
Chongyun cracked his knuckles. "What did you say about my family being philistines?" All was fair in love in war, went the saying. Winning was winning, and this was a battle for the fate of the world. Swallowing his pride to welcome backup was the least Chongyun could do.
Keqing stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Zhongli while their doppelgangers fought each other. Their battlefields had overlapped, and all Psycho Keqing heard was 'emperor' out of Psycho Zhongli's lips before she attacked her 'ally.'
"Emperors are heresy! Destroy the old world; forge the new world!" Her construct army clamored over each other to claw and tear at his flying throne.
"You mongrel," said Psycho Zhongli before launching his stone pillars. They rained upon and crushed the constructs. Psycho Keqing charged in, undeterred.
Their vicious struggle reduced Keqing and Zhongli to spectators, left by the wayside in this battle against supposed allies. Keqing watched her doppelganger throw herself at this impassable wall with an inhuman drive.
This facet of Psycho Keqing's insanity sickened Keqing. Not just seeing the way she fought, with a viciousness unbecoming of humans, but moved by a conviction that everything she did was unarguably and totally right.
She recalled Zhongli's presence, and felt compelled to explain herself. "Mr. Zhongli? My doppelganger has disparaged and has enacted a violent purge of the old world. I'd like to state my non-affiliation with everything that my doppelganger stands for." That was terribly clinical, but an encounter with such a depraved version of herself had shaken Keqing to her core.
It reached into Keqing, testing everything she thought she knew and painting certain lines she now refused to cross.
After such a spiritual violation, 'clinical' was all she had.
"We are who we are. Who we are is anything but these strayed doppelgangers." Zhongli stood like an oak tree, unmoved. Yet that was a superficial observation, since Keqing saw doubt and something else gnawing at his facade.
Keqing could only tell it was genuine. "I… I see. Glad you understand. I was worried you would conflate her views with my own, despite hers being far too extreme and destructive in its scope. I realize I've voiced my misgivings about tradition and the gods before, but even this is…" Words failed Keqing. It hurt to think she'd spearhead such a monstrous revolution, and such a realization reshaped Keqing's view.
Liyue would remain Liyue, with or without Rex Lapis. And she was molded by Liyue, so to tear Liyue down was akin to cutting off her own flesh. The old ways had their worth. But it was up to them to decide what was of worth, instead of taking the word of those before.
Yes, they would create something new and better from everything they'd inherited. Now, how best to tell -
"I understand."
Keqing spun to face Zhongli. The gentleman gave Keqing a smile, accomplished more through softened features than the curl of his lips. His eyes were deep with wisdom, and ample in patience. Never would Keqing have thought she'd find common ground with such a traditional man, but now, she liked to imagine they understood each other.
More importantly, they understood who the other was not.
This moment was disturbed by the crash of an Elemental Skill, and Psycho Keqing fell to her knees.
"No… the spirit of the revolution… can't end here…"
"Good riddance," Psycho Zhongli sneered.
Keqing felt Zhongli's stance shift, and she summoned her sword. 'Watch the battle from afar, and ride into battle when all sides are exhausted.' Elementary tactics. Psycho Zhongli was certainly exhausted, his golden robes tattered and his breathing hastened.
"All things fall!" Zhongli dropped his meteor upon his doppelganger, and Keqing rushed in to press the advantage.
"Cut to the chase!"
Childe hit the floor.
That had been the toughest battle of his life, and he said that after having been in a few scrapes. He'd exhausted everything he had to maintain his Foul Legacy, since nothing less would suffice against Psycho Childe. Drawing out the battle had been the right call, since his doppelganger's suicidal drive and wielding two Delusions meant he burnt through his reserves twice as quickly.
If he wanted to die so much, Childe would oblige him.
Psycho Childe laid on the floor beside him, bleeding out. He wouldn't last, Childe knew, and though a big part of him despised Psycho Childe, it frustrated him to be humbled by the sight of his doppelganger dying like this: defeated, unloved and unmourned.
It didn't matter that Childe was loved, while Psycho Childe was not. It mattered that a world where Childe was hated by his family even existed.
A world where he ever considered killing Teucer, and carried it out.
Psycho Childe wheezed. "Childe… I'm telling you, stop this. Stop trying to live the best of both worlds. You'll have to choose…" Childe wanted to respond, but found himself lacking. The hurt in those words stole his voice, and within said hurt was a desperate plea Childe would never expect from himself.
Psycho Childe's figure relaxed, a prelude to death. "Please don't make the same mistake I did. Please… please…"
His voice faded away by the end, and Childe knew it was over.
He laid beside his doppelganger's corpse, lost in thought. He despised Psycho Childe, but it felt like playing into Psycho Childe's hand since his doppelganger wanted to be hated. Likely as penance for killing Teucer. And killing Psycho Childe was everything Psycho Childe wanted, helping him die rather than live with his own sin.
Childe closed his eyes.
Despite beating Psycho Childe, he didn't feel like much of a winner at all.
Instead, he felt like a chump who had suffered through the most painful lesson of his life. It taught him how untenable his continued existence was, something he failed to realize.
Perhaps it was something he refused to realize, since remaining on both Teucer and the Fatui's good side had always seemed so simple. It took a suicidal doppelganger from another world to beat the lesson into him.
And despite cursing Psycho Childe with his heart, he ate his fair share of humble pie and made his choice.
Heizou set his shogi piece down. This 'best of five' had taken everything he had to take it to the final game, and even then it came down to the wire.
Heizou had won. Only now did he allow himself to breathe. Truly breathe, as though he'd never tasted the air before. And along the heels of relief came this strange, humbling gratitude towards everything. Gratitude toward all the good and bad in his life which molded him into who he was today, capable of saving his parents.
Psycho Heizou sat, his eyes stuck on the gameboard. Though he smiled, its warmth had evaporated and left behind a cold mask of shock. Heizou read his doppelganger's face, troubled by whether Psycho Heizou would simply press the trigger.
"Well, a win's a win. And a promise is a promise." The petulance in Psycho Heizou's aloofness hinted and various sentiments beneath.
A playful desire to keep playing with someone on his level.
The incensed refusal to accept a loss, especially as a genius.
The need to maintain appearances, as an Inazuman and a consulting criminal.
Heizou caught something tossed his way, and his heart stopped at the sight of the trigger in his hands. He shot to his feet to stop Psycho Heizou, but froze at the sight of Psycho Heizou brandishing another trigger.
"Come on now, me. Like I said, I prepared for this, so you should take this win with some grace. Don't be like that insolent detective - well, in this world that fellow would be a criminal in opposition to you - and be a thorn in my side. Go find your parents."
"Who?" Heizou's mind drew a blank.
Psycho Heizou's eyes lit up. "Oh, you don't know? Like I said, great oppression births greater criminals, but so would greater criminals birth the greatest detective. In this world, that bastard would be the criminal to your detective. Nowhere as dangerous as me, I'm sure, not in this boring, peaceful world."
Heizou shook off this tangent. "And you think I'd just let you leave after threatening my parents?"
"Yeah. Remember what I told you, me. Criminals cannot be cowed by fear alone, but inspired to be better, along with rescuing them from economic circumstances that drive most to crime. You can despise me, but you know I'm right." Heizou stood, seething in his impotence while Psycho Heizou walked out the door. Everything within him chafed at the thought of listening to a criminal's advice, especially one with his own face, but the rational side of him forced himself to parse the lesson.
Heizou would never stop his crusade against sin. But motivating folks through the stick alone was not enough, not if Psycho Heizou's world was any indication.
There'd always be deviants inclined to crime no matter what, but Heizou knew his fair share of criminals who did crimes for economic reasons. To fight these nebulous forces, allies to sin, which drove folks to crime was now his responsibility. As was reaching out and inspiring folks to master themselves in their darkest hour.
To encourage good and smite all that was wrong, that was the complete equation.
Heizou would never stop. He was only made aware of the extra dimensions to his struggle against sin.
Though he wouldn't even spit in Psycho Heizou's direction, it was Heizou's burden to hold this ruefulness in his heart that he had been taught by his own doppelganger. This ruefulness was the next worst thing to teeth-gnashing 'gratitude' towards a criminal, especially one who broke into his house and threatened his family.
Lisa hid from her doppelganger. It was a temporary retreat, all so she could convene with Amber, Kaya and Razor. Battered and bruised, they all bore injuries from their respective battles, and Lisa saw how shaken up they were from their respective battles. Even then, they came to help Lisa fight her doppelganger.
She brimmed with gratitude towards every one of them. "Does everyone understand the plan?"
They nodded.
Lisa and the gang popped out of cover. Psycho Lisa was in the distance, whose Vision lashed out with tongues of white-hot power. Psycho Lisa just was a conduit, a limping weapon of mass destruction who begged to be stopped. Even if it meant killing her.
If they played their cards right, it wouldn't come to that. Lisa called forth every ounce of power to meet Psycho Lisa's Vision blast, now autonomous in its strikes while Psycho Lisa limped on, ignorant. Lisa buckled under the wave of white-hot Electro, but her distraction allowed Kaeya to rush in.
"Freeze!" His Elemental Skill struck Psycho Lisa's back. While her doppelganger recoiled, the chains which bound the Vision to her back froze over.
Amber had drawn her bow. "Sorry, Ms. Lisa!" Her flaming shot hit Psycho Lisa in the back, and her doppelganger now keened in agony. Her back was singed, the chains now strained from the temperature shifts.
Razor took to the sky with a howl. He twisted mid-air to avoid Electro bolts while his wolf spirit lunged for Psycho Lisa's Vision. The chains on Psycho Lisa's back snapped with a yank, and the wolf hurled the Vision away.
Lisa and the gang backed away from the Vision's Electro storm. But without a user, the Vision's outburst petered out in impotence. Psycho Lisa had crawled as far away as she could from her Vision, now hugging herself with all the gracelessness of a street bum. The gang deflated at the battle being over, but Lisa couldn't rest easy. Looking at Psycho Lisa, her mind lit up with an idea.
"Amber, be a dear and hold this for me, alright?" She handed Amber her own Vision, then took a step towards her doppelganger.
"Ms. Lisa, that's dangerous."
Lisa glanced back. "Trust me." She saw the concern in Amber, Kaeya and Razor's eyes, but she stood firm in this being the right thing to do. She approached Psycho Lisa, who recoiled from her approach. Presence was likely something doppelgangers could sense about each other, akin to alike magnetic poles.
She knelt before Psycho Lisa, now curled up into a ball as though wanting to vanish into herself. Lisa pulled her doppelganger in with a hug, and the sisterly instincts which moved her to fawn over Traveler, Mika, Razor and the kids now suffused Lisa with a caring warmth.
She patted. "There, there."
"The voices have stopped… No more eyes on me…" Psycho Lisa had locked up, akin to a wounded quail who'd frozen up in hopes they'd pass beneath any predator's notice. Only when they felt assured did they drop their guard. Psycho Lisa fell into Lisa's embrace, tears in her eyes and a listless murmur on her lips.
Apologizing. Begging. Even reciting formulas Lisa recognized to be Akademiya learning material. All symptoms of someone who needed help.
"How?!" Psycho Fischl howled.
Around them, Teyvat's inhabitants emerged battered but victorious.
No, victory wasn't the right word. This world's Vision bearers survived fighting their doppelgangers, chosen to be the antithesis, in a physical and spiritual struggle.
Mona stepped up. "You must see why. Your doppelgangers are disunited and unmotivated, unlike us who've lived with each other and are fighting for our lives. Strength matters little when your doppelgangers either turn on each other or get ganged up on, not even coming to each other's aid."
Fischl winced at how battered Mona was. Wounds aside, her gaze had hardened in the way one had after seeing something that blackened the soul. They all turned towards Mona's doppelganger, who came out of the fight better off.
Despite this, Psycho Mona turned her back on Psycho Fischl and ran.
Mona commented, "Or they simply flee, for they've no personal loyalty to you. You're out of cards to play, you psycho."
Despite everything, Fischl was overcome by pity for Psycho Fischl. She'd never paid much mind to this bond between herself and Mona. But the lack of any camaraderie between Psycho Fischl and Psycho Mona showed just how precious their bond was, as opposed to a Teyvat where Fischl and Mona passed each other on the street without a second glance.
And Fischl wasn't the only one affected by this betrayal.
Something in Fischl's gut twisted at the sight of Psycho Fischl falling apart. At first it was the odd flicker of concern. But Psycho Fischl's furtive glances and lip bites were symptoms of concern cresting into anxiety. Right now, Psycho Fischl had devolved into self-absorbed mutters and a disbelieving, unfocused glare.
Psycho Fischl screeched. "This isn't over. Nothing is over!" She clawed the side of her head. "I swear, I'll build up a crazier and stronger army to raze this world. And upon this world's ashes, I shall build my Immernachtreich!"
Mona cried, "Didn't you hear a word I said? You barely have an army! Doppelgangers from various universes have no cohesion nor loyalty to your empire of fiction!"
Fischl froze, as did Psycho Fischl.
Mona paused, aware of the friendly fire caused by her words. But Fischl had been through enough to take this slap to the face in stride.
Psycho Fischl was the complete opposite, twitching and sneering at Mona with such murderous intent it bordered on mania.
Fischl jumped at the bark of a gunshot. A wounded OSF stepped in while her pistol spat out hot lead. It clicked empty, and all the veteran had to show for her efforts was an irked Psycho Fischl, her dimensional shield having negated the damage.
Reality blurred and warped around Psycho Fischl. Raikou Shogun, likewise battered, stepped in and removed her blindfold.
"I can't hold her for long. I don't have the energy!"
Fischl had to do something. As though the threads of fate had led her to this point, it was now up to her to do something, whatever it was, and steal victory from the jaws of defeat.
She was guided by memories, not just of her encounters with Psycho Fischl, but also Paimon's recollection of Psycho Fischl's monologue.
"Yes, I'm not the fabled Prinzessin we read about. But, am I not close?"
"I'm close to being the Prinzessin. And like I said…"
"I can't take it anymore. I will be the Prinzessin, at any cost. The Immernachtreich is a tomb for those who cannot face reality. But if I can't find the reality I desire, I'll create my own."
Fischl realized the solution: to use the one thing her doppelganger wanted to escape from the most.
The truth.
Everyone threw their Elemental Bursts at the dimensional barrier. But the problem wasn't just that it was strong; everyone was too weakened to shatter it.
Fischl's breath quickened. The problem was, this truth would hurt herself too.
The world lost focus in Fischl's mind. The thought of hurting herself along with Psycho Fischl with this blade called 'truth' sat upon her heart in a damnable dread. The kind of dread she would rather swallow a thousand needles, weather a hundred lashes and be beaten black and blue than suffer that cold blade of reality.
That blade, which would cut into the essence of 'Fischl' and rend it open.
Fischl's vision swam.
She couldn't do it. But she had to.
But she didn't want to!
"I'll see you soon, Fischl." Her doppelganger turned, ready to leave through a portal.
"I am not… Fischl!"
Psycho Fischl whirled around, confused.
The world around Fischl had slowed as though a wizard had cast a city-wide spell. Despite Fischl's nausea, being cast from this cliff of hesitation now left her in this dreamy, weightless instant of possibility.
Fischl stood before her allies and friends, all her soul's pain, shame and insecurities bared in a way more striking than if she'd stripped naked.
Fisc - Amy swallowed the lump in her throat. "I… I am not the Prinzessin. I am not old enough to have seen three thousand winters." She undid her hairbands, failing to control the tremble in her voice. "I am not… from another world. And I am not the one who would aid in this universe's rebirth at the end of time." She took off her eyepatch, every choked sentence a blow to the essence of 'Fischl.'
But it was working.
"What're you saying…" Psycho Fischl, if it could be believed, broke down even more. But unlike before, where rage formed the heart of such a breakdown, this one was more hysterical in nature. The fibers holding her psyche together began to unravel and let Psycho Fischl down. Down, into his black pit of denial, desperation madness and despair in her expression.
The back of Amy's throat tightened as she choked on her tears. Every time Amy thought she'd cried herself empty, life had its way of taking another swing at her psyche.
But she pushed on, no matter how much it hurt.
"I… I think I might be nobody. And it felt like forever ago that I wanted to be Fischl; to be somebody. But," she swallowed. "Even if you may be the closest to becoming the Prinzessin, I would rather give it all up to be a nobody than be a Prinzessin like you!"
"STOP IT!" Psycho Fischl collapsed, hunched over with her face in her hands. "I'm… I'm Fischl. I am… I have to be…" To hear the instant her mind snapped struck Amy in ways she couldn't begin to explain. Her voice had petered out into a hollow croak as she clung to her fading 'truth,' yet Amy had disarmed Psycho Fischl at the cost of damaging her own identity as 'Fischl.'
Everyone crowded around Psycho Fischl, but it was clear she was no longer a threat. How could one be a threat when one no longer knew who one was?
Amy took a step closer. "I'm nobody without 'Fischl.' But without 'Fischl,' you're less than nobody, you're nothing." Her voice trembled. Her throat was dry, every muscle was sore, her soul utterly drained.
But there she stood. And to be the last one standing was victory unto itself.
"Nothing…" Psycho Fischl parroted, clinging to anything beyond her destroyed sense of self. "I have to be Fischl. I'm nothing without 'Fischl.' Nothing…"
"Mein Fraulein, if you're nothing without Fischl, perhaps you shouldn't be her. Not as you are now." Amy blinked away her tears and found her familiar back by her side. "Apologies, mein Fraul - no, Amy. It's unbecoming of a familiar to be taken over by a rogue doppelganger, and I have no excuse."
"You…" Amy croaked, foggy on how 'Amy' would talk. "You're excused." To feel anger towards Oz's betrayal was too much of an emotional effort.
Staring down at Psycho Fischl, Amy didn't feel victorious at all. How could she when she looked down at herself consumed by black despair, broken in ways no doctor nor counselor could ever put back together again?
No doctor could, but perhaps…
"Please," Amy knelt. "It's not too late." She took Psycho Fischl's hand in hers, her delicate touch borne of concern.
Entirely undeserved after all Psycho Fischl had done. But Amy knew it didn't matter. Be it as Fischl or Amy, it didn't matter whether someone 'deserved' to be helped or not. She'd help. Some would call it weak, but right now, Amy was all weak.
She'd seen too many Fischls who'd devoted themselves to strength and had become dangers to reality itself.
Mona backed her up. "If you don't understand this girl's strength to be able to show herself like this, I've nothing more to say. But if you do, deep down within you, you can still change."
"But," Psycho Fischl looked up like a babe looking to their mother for guidance, "what do I do? Where do I go? I've done things…" Amy winced. Justice's reach was limited with respect to the multiverse. They had little way of incarcerating Psycho Fischl here without the Raikou Shogun's help, and she had her own world to return to.
"You…" Amy paused. It had to be a kind of truth Psycho Fischl could carry everywhere she went. "You'll have to carry this sin with you. There's nothing that can ever wash it away. But so long as you give 'Fischl' up, and live every day as 'Amy,' I'm sure you'll find yourself again."
Psycho Fischl's expression crumbled. "How? I can't…"
"I can't teach you that. But now, I'm a bit tired of 'Fischl,' and I may rediscover 'Amy' now along with you. To embrace what's important to both Amy and Fischl." Amy did her best to block out everyone's attention. Amy was a nobody and was thus allergic to attention of any sort, so now only Mona and Oz occupied her world.
Oz piped up. "Mein - no, Amy. As your familiar and loyal subject, the greatest act I could commit is to allow you to set aside 'Fischl,' if that is what's best for you." Oz bowed towards Amy, and in that gesture Amy felt his devotional love.
It was not just a love which intertwined and enriched, but a love unafraid to weather the pain of separation if their loved one could truly be happy.
Oz's devotion incurred a crushing debt of gratitude within Amy, one she'd willingly shoulder to even begin to thank him. As Fischl was destined to team up with Oz, so too did Oz cherish 'Amy' as best he could: by standing aside to let Amy exist as her own person, if that was the best course of action.
Amy returned her gaze to her fallen doppelganger.
Psycho Fischl was gone.
She turned. All her doppelgangers were gone.
Paimon asked, "Huh? Did Psycho Fischl escape? But wait, where are the others?"
"No. It is finished," Amy said while she staggered to her feet. Somehow, she knew that all was right in the world again.
Every breakdown had washed her clean, be it through tears that bled away her pain or emotions so visceral they physically tired Amy out. Through her dried tears and numb soul, Amy was now so purged of worldly burdens she imagined herself carried away by the breeze.
She was free.
To be truly empty was to be free, in a way. Free to breathe, to take inventory and brim with gratitude for everything she'd once taken for granted.
Amy noticed Mona by her side. "Fi - Amy. If there's anything…" and words failed her.
"I…" Amy struggled to find the words, "I don't know what to think. So many versions of me. Their failures of character… do I inherit their flaws by virtue of being the same person?"
Mona scoffed. "That's silly. It's inevitable that there's a darkest, most reprehensible version of ourselves out there. But do what we can with the choices we have. We own our choices, and aren't responsible for a doppelganger's mistakes. We can only learn from them."
Something within Amy was set to rest with that answer. True, she now knew the depths of depravity she could've fallen into. But it was a mere possibility, made true only by the infinitude of the multiverse.
Amy took Mona's hand.
Being cast into this great sea of freedom had her reaching for the shoals of familiarity. Mona glanced down at the contact but didn't shake off Amy's trembling hand, and in that moment her acceptance meant everything. With Oz embodying her identity as 'Fischl,' she as 'Amy' now sought Mona. Like a half-forgotten dream, Amy recalled scenes of another life where she laid with Mona.
The recollection put some color back in Amy's cheeks, but the thought stuck.
With Mona and Oz by her side, she felt whole again as Amy and Fischl. Two halves of a reconciled whole. Facing Psycho Fischl had shoved open the door of possibility she might set aside 'Fischl' someday.
But Amy would remain, and so would this bond between herself and her Megistus.
This truth warmed Amy's heart, made warmer still through held hands with Mona.
