Wei Wuxian steps forward, heart constricting, because he doesn't like seeing any Lan Zhan hurt, real or not. It's still real in its own way, like the memories they all hold of the days spent here, like the memories all those pulled here from other worlds will carry.

Illusions aren't sustained realities. But memories, memories keep illusions alive, and mistaking an illusion for reality helps no one.

He steps forward, still playing, the named-but-not to him song, closer to the injured illusion of Lan Zhan. A dip of his eyes, a nod of his head, and then he looks beyond him, into the ongoing storm. Accepting the grief, the difficulty of breathing, the despair that's there too to echo in him, and letting it pass through. Letting the hollowness come behind it, and fill with determination. With the ache, the sorrow, and the gratitude that in a life missing so many that he loves, he's had chances to connect, to love, to care again, even when it hurts.

Remember. Remember who you are, and who they are, and live for them, those who cannot live for themselves. Those who are already gone.