Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

| SPECIAL 01 |
TRAVAIL

NO one knew how it began. One moment, they were in their cities, forests, battlefields, courts, and caverns. The next, every soul—noble, rogue, god, and mortal—was falling.

Not through space.

Not through time.

But through something deeper. Something that unmade logic and reshaped existence. Some screamed, some called out in confusion, some simply clenched their jaws and waited for the impact.

Then…

They landed.

One by one. Groups, pairs, and loners, tumbling in an impossible silence. Velvet red carpet cushioned their falls. Grand walls towered around them, opulent and lined with golden sconces. At first glance, it looked like a theater—no, a cinema —but the scale of it was absurd. It could seat the entire population of Teyvat, and then some.

“Ugh… What just happened?” Paimon floated up, dizzy and pale.

“Traveler—are you okay?” she fluttered over to the golden-haired Traveler, who had landed squarely in the very center of the grand front row. Strangely, a plush seat behind him bore a plaque: “Reserved for: THE TRAVELER, XXXXXX”

He turned, eyes scanning the room as he pulled Paimon into his arms protectively. Around them, familiar and unfamiliar voices echoed in disarray. 

The Knights of Favonius branded their weapons, rallying under Jean’s command. The Qixing and Adepti of Liyue gathered together. Inazuma’s Tri-Commission and present Sangonomiya Troops stood side by side, weapons drawn with the Raiden Shogun herself at the front. Sumeru’s scholars and rangers formed around Lesser Lord Kusanali while Fontaine’s people brandished their guns and gunbrellas. Natlan’s warriors, too, readied their positions with Mavuika front and center. At the edge of it all, the Fatui Harbingers appeared—silent, watching—prepared to fight alongside their former enemies against the common threat.

It wasn’t the entire population of Teyvat that were in the room. Most of them were important figures of their respective nations, while some were random citizens that also happen to be acquaintances with the traveler.

Among the chaos, the Archons looked around, meeting each other’s gaze.

“No wind… no stars… only velvet walls,” Venti murmured mostly to himself, pressing a hand against one. “We are not in Teyvat.”

He smiled on instinct—but inwardly, he frowned. “This reeks of Celestia’s hand. The way they drop the curtain… It’s always theatrical with them.”

“It’s no leyline distortion,” Zhongli said calmly, his eyes narrowed. 

His expression was unreadable, as always. But a heavy weight pressed behind his gaze. “A room where time stands still. Perhaps… Celestia is watching.”

Raiden Ei muttered, hand on Musou Isshin. “I do not appreciate being moved against my will.”

But even she hesitated, her grip tighter than it needed to be. She didn’t vocalize the thought that gnawed at her, but it clawed the back of her mind like lightning behind clouds. “Control removed. Power sealed. Consciousness guided. This… isn’t mortal design. This is judgment. Celestia’s?”

Nahida stared upward in silence, her small form tense as she tried to connect with Irminsul. “…I can’t… reach it. I can’t reach anything . ”

She forced herself to stay calm, but the fear in her chest was not her own. “Even Irminsul is silent. This is not a dream.”

Furina dared not say what she thought—not in front of the others. Not aloud. “Is this… another trial?”

Neuvillette stood still, unease coiling beneath his usual calm. The air was too dry, too still—no trace of mist, no pull of the tide. “I cannot feel the waters.” He reached inward, he couldn’t feel his elemental authority. His jaw tightened.

Mavuika crouched near the far wall, hands scraping the floor. Her glowing eyes fixed on the one archon. “This is not your game, is it?”

The temperature dropped. She turned when the Tsaritsa strode through the velvet-lit darkness.

“Clearly not.” She said, her heart was still ice cold.

Aether rose to his feet slowly, steadying Paimon with one hand as his gaze swept across the endless velvet-lined expanse. Every face he passed—every voice, every stance—was familiar. It was everyone.

Except two.

Lumine was nowhere to be seen.

Nor was Dainsleif.

His heart sank, though he didn’t let it show. Instead, he moved, weaving through the crowd as murmurs swelled. Most gave way when they saw him—The renowned Traveler, always at the eye of the storm.

He searched the walls for cracks, the ceiling for illusions, the stage for any sign of exit or cause.

And that’s when he saw it.

A pedestal, glowing faintly, as if calling only to him. Upon it sat a rectangular object—out of place in this world of magic and divine power.

A cassette mixtape.

Witness this to the end. Only then will you be allowed to leave.

Paimon hovered beside him, frowning. “What’s that supposed to mean? Is it a threat? Or—ugh, is this some kind of twisted game show?”

Aether frowned, and then—holding it high—turned to the vast sea of familiar faces. The voices around him dulled into a hush as more eyes landed on the Traveler.

“This was left for us,” he said, loud enough to carry. “It says we have to watch it. All the way to the end… and then we can leave.”

A pause.

“That might be the only way out. I… have a feeling we should watch it.”

No grand speech. No commands. Just truth from the one person every nation had fought beside—bled beside.

And that was enough.

The crowd shifted. Tension eased. Doubts fell into silence.

Venti leaned close to Jean and whispered,, “Calm their hearts. The wind says we must watch.” He forced a smile. “Sometimes, the only path forward is through the performance.”

Jean nodded and stepped forward. "All forces of Mondstadt, I command you to stand down. For the safety and well-being of our citizens, and by the recommendation of the Honorary Knight of the Knights of Favonius, I ask that you heed his counsel. For the citizens, please follow for your safety."

Ningguang raised her hand, the weight of her presence palpable as she spoke with unwavering authority. "To the Qixing and the Adepti, I trust you will recognize the importance of this moment. The citizens' well-being must take precedence. In the wise counsel of the Hero of Liyue, I urge you to stand down."

Raiden Ei turned toward the Tri-Commission. But even she knew better than to provoke what she didn’t understand.

“Stand by,” she ordered, “Eyes open. But do not interfere.”

Nahida’s small hand tugged gently at Alhaitham’s cloak. Her voice was barely a breath. “We’ll listen to the Traveler. Can you calm everyone down for me?”

Alhaitham sighed, annoyed but obedient. “Calm down, everyone. Nahida has made a decision, and it is in our best interest to follow her guidance. We shall do as the Traveler suggests.”

Neuvillette’s voice followed not long after, quiet yet resonant, like a gavel through deep waters. “Fontaine. Be still. The verdict awaits.”

Mavuika’s voice rang out, light and unbothered, cutting through the tension like a breeze. "Alright. There's no need to get all worked up. ‘Tumaini’ has spoken, and I suggest we listen to him. So, take a breath, relax, and let’s handle this calmly.”

Then came the Tsaritsa. She spoke only one word, but her voice froze the last of the resistance.

“Comply.”

And like that, the theater of velvet and void fell still.

Aether stepped forward toward the stage, the cassette now glowing faintly in his hand. Something about it told him to just sit back and watch, considering the Archons were also powerless in the situation. Within one movement of inserting the tape, the screen behind him came to life.

“We had no time to say goodbye. So let’s not call it that.” The traveler's voice rang out from the screen.

Aether’s eyebrows furrowed. That was the very first time he heard his voice outside of his own thoughts. It felt weird, and strange as well. Would watching this show his secrets to the others? 

“Are you talking about your sister?” Amber looked at him from her seat, concerned etched into her face. “I’m sorry I wasn’t much help.”

“It’s alright…”

“The war has already begun. It is just a continuation of past battles,” Spoke an older male voice as a sea of inteyvat flowers appeared on the screen. “The Gods goad us all with the promise of their seven treasures. Rewards for the worthy. The doorway to divinity. Yet buried in the depths of the world lies smoldering remains, a warning to those that dare trespass.”

“Seven treasures?” Heizou tipped his chin.

Xingqiu added, “Perhaps the seven visions? Or the seven nations?”

Collei dropped a sweat, “Why do I feel like watching this is a bit dangerous?”

“It is undoubtedly giving us a view outside our own perspective.” Albedo looked at his palm, “It would not be wrong to think these are forbidden knowledge.”

Kaeya narrowed his eyes as the man continued to speak. The voice wasn’t unfamiliar, and it irked him that he couldn’t remember who it belonged to.

Nahida looked at her hands in somber. “The seeds sown long ago are still bearing poisoned fruit."

The Archons in the room exchanged uneasy glances before quickly looking away. The concept of Celestia was something rarely, if ever, shown to the public. They steeled themselves for the sensitive information that might be exposed to these people. All they could do now was hope that it wouldn’t jeopardize the safety of their citizens.

Two shooting stars streaked across the sky as we see Aether and his sister, Lumine, standing atop the sea of flowers, holding each other's arms as the man continued to speak. “That throne in the sky is not reserved for you.”

“A throne in the sky?” Mona tilted her head in curiosity.

The Wanderer merely scoffed at the idea, pulling his hat down as he overheard Mona’s thoughts.

“What does all that mean?” Mualani asked.

Aether hesitated, his brow furrowing as he processed the information. “I… I’m not sure.” He paused, struggling to wrap his mind around it. First, the voice speaking was unmistakably Dainsleif's, and the reference clearly pointed to Celestia. Then there was his sister. Had they truly been reunited at the end of their journey?

“But mortal arrogation never stops. None will escape the flames. See for yourself.”

Kazuha contemplated, "It seems this will follow the Traveler’s path through the Seven Nations, leading them toward the journey’s end… perhaps even to the throne in the sky."

Venti shut his eyes, releasing a quiet, unheard sigh. Zhongli’s headache started to cloud his mind, while Ei simply shut her eyes completely. Nahida, however, kept her gaze fixed on the screen, as did Neuvillette and Mavuika. The Tsaritsa didn’t even blink.

“Mortal Arrogation?” Keqing repeated, “Is the one speaking some kind of God or Immortal then?”

“Perhaps…” Ganyu replied, though quite unsure herself.

“They talk like they know the future,” Escoffier crossed her arms.

Xiangling looked at the chef, “Maybe they do? I mean, whoever this guy is sounds like they’re quoting someone. Like some kind of mysterious riddle!”

Xiao crossed his arms, "Why speak in riddles? It serves only to confuse those who hear it."

Paimon was unbearably quiet. She knows the voice to be Dainsleif, but she knows nothing of what he was even talking about. For once, she didn’t have the time to yap and simply listened. 

ACT PROLOGUE : Mondstadt. The Outlander Who Caught the Wind.

Mea Libertas Meus Canor.

“‘My freedom is my song.’” Dahlia read the untranslated text, getting nods from the people of other nations.

Most of the Knights of Favonius grinned with confidence, a bit proud of their nation being the first to appear.

“Ah, Mondstadt! I miss it.” Thoma hummed, “The things I’ll do just to drink fresh Dandelion Wine from there again.”

“Are you from Mondstadt, sir?” Amber tilted her head, narrowing her eyes as if trying to remember who he was, “I don’t remember seeing your face around there.”

“Oh, well, I was born there, but I haven’t got the chance to visit since the decree.”

Ayaka and Ayato smiled at one another and suddenly patted him in the back, “Perhaps we should take a short stroll outside Inazuma once in a while together?”

Thoma was about to decline, but the Kamisato siblings had none of it. If they ever do get out of here, that’d be the first thing they’ll do.

“The dragon who defended Mondstadt for a millennium finally faces his perturbation. What does freedom really mean when demanded of you by a God?”

“Now there’s a quote to haunt you in your sleep.” Kaeya glances sideways. “Were we ever really free? Or just playing our part?”

Amber shifted uncomfortably, “That line makes it sound like... like freedom was used as a leash. That’s not what Lord Barbatos wanted. Right?” She doesn’t sound entirely sure.

Barbara immediately spoke up,  “But Lord Barbatos always said we were free to choose! That we weren’t bound by him!”

Rosaria merely rolled her eyes, but she could see how the deaconess was very latched on her beliefs.

At first, Venti would go still. The smile—the one that always dances on his lips like wind in spring grass—would falter. His eyes, usually full of mischief, dimmed.

"They’re not wrong," he’d think. "Not entirely."

He was never the kind of god who gave orders. He was never meant to rule, only to inspire. But even inspiration, when misread, becomes pressure. And Dvalin… Dvalin had read it that way.

"Freedom should never feel like a duty. But maybe, to him, it did."

He'd think of how long Dvalin bore the weight of protecting Mondstadt. How alone he must’ve felt. And how little Venti did to stop it.

Then we see an image of a red-headed man holding a flaming claymore appear on the screen.

“It’s the weird grown-up!” Klee pointed at the screen with glee.

“The weird grown-up?”  

“It’s my enemy! The creator of the wine industry!” Diona also pointed fingers.

“Diona’s enemy?” 

“My supplier!” Venti spoke in glee all so suddenly.

“That bard’s supplier?” Diluc all repeated in his mind, a bit offended by the way everyone saw him.

Other than their extremely weird comments, the rest of the cast were curious what Diluc had to do with the precedent. Was he an important figure in Mondstadt? Is he a knight? Or maybe even the Grandmaster?

Hearing their assumptions, maybe through the wind, Venti hummed. “Master Diluc here is the owner of the largest wine company in all of Teyvat!”

“That will not get you any free wine, bard.”

ACT I: Liyue. Farewell, Archaic Lord.

Ruat Caelum, Fiat Pactum.

“Even if the sky must fall, the contract must be completed.” Keqing read, already raising her suspicions.

The line “even if the sky must fall” sent a chill through Ningguang, an unsettling echo of Rex Lapis' death. She couldn’t shake the feeling that it was more than just coincidence. Or perhaps they were all simply overthinking it? Ningguang wasn’t so sure.

She still vividly remembered the dream she had in the wake of the Geo Archon’s death—its cryptic, haunting imagery lingering in her mind.

“The God of contracts senselessly slaughtered as his people watched in horror.”

The people of Liyue grimaced at the memory of their fallen Archon. They remembered that time all too well—when they were simply preparing for the titular Rite, gathering offerings and tributes in honor of their god... only for Rex Lapis himself to become the centerpiece of that very rite.

A cruel twist of fate—ironic, and unforgettable.

Lan Yan and Ga Ming bowed their heads in reverence, solemn as stone. Nearby, Chongyun, Xingqiu, Xiangling, and Hu Tao pressed their hands together in silent prayer. Baizhu stayed grounded, gripping Qiqi and Yao Yao’s hands, while Yun Jin and Xinyan closed their eyes in respect. Even the ever-busy Yanfei and mysterious Yelan followed suit. And then there were Keqing, Ganyu, and Shenhe, each offering their own prayer.

Xiao, Xianyun, Moon Carver, Mountain Shaper and Madame Ping looked at one another before doing the same gesture as the rest of the Liyuean people.

Beidou snuck a glance at Ningguang, who very much still wore her usual strong facade. She could not show any weakness, as she has a nation to lead after all. It’s only natural that only now where she is surrounded only by people she trusts, that she allowed herself to mourn for the death of the Archon.

Venti side-eyed Zhongli, and sighed. Raiden Ei continued to watch on, while Nahida looked in horror first before composing herself. Neuvillette’s brow furrowed; the idea of placing the Geo Archon on trial now seemed... less feasible than he’d hoped. Mavuika had no contact with the other archons, so hearing this for the very first time was a shock to her.

“In the end, he will sign the contract that ends all contracts.”

This raised the eyebrows of all the people in the cinema. 

Neuvillette scrunched his nose, thinking of many ways to interpret whatever that meant. "Even the oldest laws may be undone by their own author. If Morax’s laws vanish… what becomes of his divine authority?"

“Is it referring to a final contract of sorts?” Alhaitham thought.

Kuki tipped her chin, “What exactly did he sign?” 

Xingqiu nodded, “A contract to end all contracts… What a dramatic phrasing for it, but maybe there’s some truth to it?”

“Sounds like the funeral for the age of Gods,” Hu Tao whispered, “At least, in Liyue.”

Xianyun let out a quiet sigh, the weight of the Geo Archon’s true intentions finally settling in. Beside her, Ningguang read between the lines with sharp clarity—this wasn’t just the end of a reign, but the end of an age. To her, it was clear: Morax had stepped aside not out of weakness, but to usher in a future where mortals and Adepti would stand united, no longer under the shadow of a god.

And there appeared the Tianquan of the Liyue Qixing herself.

“The person representing Liyue in place of the Geo Archon,” Beidou crossed her arms with a proud grin.

Xiao simply nodded. “I agree.”

Ningguang looked at the rest of the Liyuean, who gazed at her proudly. Pride welled quietly in her chest—these were her people, and it was her honor to stand among them, let alone lead them.

ACT II: Inazuma. Omnipresence Over Mortals.

Perpetua Perennis Impervia.

“Eternal, everlasting, impervious.” Ayato read the text for the rest to understand.

Yae giggled a bit, “Very fitting for the Raiden Shogun’s motto, isn’t it?”

Ei glanced at her and simply shook her head.

“In the secluded land of the immortal Shogun, the Bakufu rules eternal. But what do mortals see of the eternity chased after by their God?” 

Raiden Ei doesn’t flinch, but her eyes tighten ever so slightly. The words cut closer than she expected. “So they question my eternity... and rightfully so.” She folds her hands in her lap. “Even now, I am still learning what that word truly means.”

Yae Miko gives a low, knowing hum. “Poetic. And painfully on the nose.”

No one dared to voice their thoughts aloud—not with the very God in question seated just a few rows away. Despite the fact that the Decree has ended, speaking against the Shogun is still not the brightest idea.

Of course, Ei noticed the silence, and though she wanted to say something, she found herself just as speechless.

Well, there was one idiot who spoke.

Itto squints at the screen. “Wait, are they calling the Shogun a villain or a misunderstood boss lady? I can’t tell.”

“Shut up, boss.” Kuki shoved him off the chair. Yanfei dropped a sweat, while Yelan and Xiao shook their heads.

Then we see an image of a young woman holding a fan up as ice circled around her. The noblewoman of the Kamisato Clan.

Ayaka flushed when she suddenly saw her face on the gigantic screen. She at least expected her brother or perhaps Kujou Sara to represent Inazuma.

“There she is, the princess of the Kamisato Clan,” Thoma said proudly, “You look graceful as always, milady.”

“She truly is the pride of our clan,” Ayato gave a rare smile.

“T-Thank you, Thoma, Nii-sama.” She muttered, utterly embarrassed, “It is an honor to represent our nation.”

Ei looked at her softly. “She represents what Inazuma should be. A future shaped not by force, but by heart.”

ACT III: Sumeru. Truth Amongst the Pages of Purana.

Sub Floreis Lumen Sagacitatis.

“The light of wisdom can be found under the flowers.” Layla read.

Alhaitham raised a brow, "Interesting. The words seem to imply that wisdom is not always found in grand gestures, but in the subtleties—the small truths that grow from the roots of understanding."

“Subtle truths? Please. That’s the kind of thing you say when you’ve spent too much time buried in dusty old books, Alhaitham. Wisdom doesn’t come from tiptoeing around things—it's about making bold choices and seeing things through to the end!” He gestured dramatically. 

“You always misinterpret everything, Kaveh. The quote clearly states it's about the small, steady work.”

“Small? Like the pile of random books in our living room?”

"Those are organized," Alhaitham replied instantly, "Unlike your 'brilliant' designs that are scattered everywhere, similar to your life."

“I…” The blonde architect was a bit flustered and looked away, “I’m working on that…”

“The God of Wisdom’s enemy is wisdom itself, and the oasis of knowledge is a mirage in the desert of ignorance.”

“A paradox of knowledge.” Yelan tilted her head.

Tighnari raised an eyebrow, “The oasis is a mirage, huh? I suppose it means that the more we think we know, the less we actually understand.”

“The more we understand, the more we realize how much we don’t know.” Albedo replied to the forest ranger, “But to call it an enemy? That’s a bit extreme. It’s more of a... double-edged sword. We must always be cautious of the consequences of acquiring knowledge.”

Kaveh rolled his eyes, “Oh, great. More cryptic nonsense to confuse everyone.”

“I agree…” Furina shyly raised her hand, “It’s so confusing!”

“In the city of scholars, there is a push for folly, yet the God of Wisdom makes no argument against it.”

Nilou’s hands slowly folded over her chest. “Our Archon made no argument… because she wasn’t allowed to.” Her voice trembled slightly. “All that time, and we never even knew.”

Cyno lowered his head,  “All our laws, all our order… built while our true god sat in a cage. We were fools. I was a fool.”

Nahida stood still in the center of the sorrowful silence. Her small hands were clasped in front of her, her eyes gentle—not with pity, but with understanding.

“I don’t blame any of you,” she said, “It was not the people of Sumeru who locked me away. It was the Akademiya’s ambition… their pride… their hunger for wisdom. You were told what they wanted you to hear. And you believed it, as anyone would.”

She turned her gaze to Nilou, then Tighnari, Collei, and Cyno, her smile tinged with sadness but never bitterness. 

“You still danced, you still protected the forest, you still lived your truths. That was never your mistake to carry.” 

Her eyes swept across the room, taking in the faces of her people—Alhaitham, Kaveh, Dehya, Candace.

“Each of you stood for something,” she said. “Whether it was your duty, your art, or your questions about the world. Even when the Akademiya silenced me, you were never truly lost.”

She turned briefly to Layla, still clutching her notes with trembling fingers.

“To study, to dream—those were never sins.”

Her gaze softened as it fell on Faruzan, Sethos, and then Dori.

“To preserve knowledge and history, to build futures… none of you failed me.” She smiled softly, “I am happy to have you as my people.”

Cyno emerged, cloaked in a swirl of golden sand, the wind carrying grains that danced like ancient whispers around his figure. 

“The General Mahamatra, huh?” Dehya crossed her arms.

Candace nodded, “No one upholds the Akademiya’s values—and critiques them—quite like he does.”

Sethos dropped a sweat, “Hopefully they don’t show him reciting one of those ridiculous jokes next.”

Cyno, in the corner, didn’t react—yet. But his fingers twitched near his deck.

To everyone’s surprise, Albedo chuckled. “I find his delivery precise, actually. There’s an art to humor that relies on its awkwardness.”

Lisa turned to him with an arched brow. “You mean to say you enjoy Cyno’s jokes?”

“Why not?” The alchemist said, gaining facepalms from all the Sumerians.

ACT IV: Fontaine. Masquerade of the Guilty.

Unlike the others, this title piqued their curiosity the most. While the true reason behind the shattering of the Hydro Archon’s throne was obscured by half-truths and omissions, they all knew of Furina’s sacrifice—though each understood it differently.

“Lady Furina sacrificed everything for Fontaine, she is guilty of nothing!” Charlotte nodded to herself.

Chevreuse agreed, “Very well said.”

Neuvillette, however, had shared his version with the world. He had publicly declared that "Furina used up all her powers against the flood, which is why her archonhood vanished."

It wasn’t a lie, but it certainly wasn’t the full truth.

The full truth, hidden beneath layers of secrecy, was far more tragic.

"She wore that mask not out of guilt, but out of necessity," he thought. "Furina’s actions were misunderstood, buried beneath layers of deception. She chose to protect Fontaine, and in doing so, condemned herself to be seen as the guilty one."

He paused, his gaze distant. "No one will ever truly know the depth of her sacrifice, or the pain she endured. Focalor’s plan was a desperate one, and she bore it alone—masked, not to deceive, but to save all Fontainians. Yet she remains a victim of her own burden, and the world will never understand her truth."

Iustitia Omnia Vincit.  

“Justice conquers all.” Escoffier read for the rest to understand.

Sigewinne fiddled with her fingers, “I think justice should be kind… not something that conquers. That word feels too cold.”

Neuvillette bowed his head, memories of past injustices weighing heavily on his mind—those rigged trials that still echoed in Fontaine's halls. He recalled Vautrin, Carole, Callas, the Melusines… even Wriothesley’s sentencing… and especially, Furina’s and Focalor’s trial.

"Justice… should be kind. But too often, it was blind—especially in Fontaine. I stood as its face, yet even I failed to see everything in time." He paused,  "And some paid the price for my silence."

Navia looked away, the thought clearly hitting home.

Furina, too, felt as guilty as the Iudex.

“The God of Justice lives for the spectacle of the courtroom, seeking to judge all other Gods. But even she knows not to make an enemy of the Divine.”

Wriothesley commented, “Huh. Even gods are not immune to their own judgments.” 

Emilie was also interested enough to speak up. “It’s a delicate game the Gods play… The balance between justice and consequence.” 

Venti winced, knowing full well that Focalor had done the exact opposite of the statement. Though the Hydro Archon was able to fool the Heavenly Principles, he doesn’t think that lowly of them. THEY will learn of it.

Zhongli and Ei crossed their arms, both aware of the events that had unfolded in Fontaine. Nahida, connected to Irminsul, had learned of them too. Mavuika, however, simply clenched her fists while the Tsaritsa’s brows furrowed at the last sentence.

Lyney and Lynette stepped out from behind the spotlights, hand in hand, as if they were performing on stage.

“Oh, it’s you two...” Freminet pointed at the screen.

“Freminet should be part of that too.” Lynette commented, a bit displeased at how one of them was excluded.

Lyney suddenly hugged the two of them, “We are a trio, not just a duo! Don’t forget that.”

Freminet blinked in surprise, going stiff at first under Lyney’s sudden hug. But after a moment, he relaxed just a bit, murmuring, “O-Okay… Thanks, Lyney, Lynette.”

Lynette nudged him, “You’re part of this family too, like it or not.”

Off to the side, Arlecchino stood with her arms crossed, watching the three of them. But for once, her usual sternness softened. 

ACT V: Natlan. Incandescent Ode of Resurrection.

“Resurrection?” This piqued Kazuha’s interest, “Do people die and live again over there at Natlan?”

“It’s a bit… complicated to explain.” Kinich was stumped.

“Still, it means it does exist over there?!” Yoimiya shook her head, “It’s not forbidden or something?”

Mavuika vaguely explained, “The Ode of Resurrection has its limitations. Since we have fought the Abyss for years, lives will eventually fall. The Ode of Resurrection is not a gift, nor a rare occurrence—it is an earned honor. When one of us falls in battle, their spirit is carried in the flames. They are reborn through the heat of the flames of Natlan. It is the soul’s natural return. A celebration of triumph and strength.”

Kachina added, “I don’t really understand how it really works but it’s not abused!”

The rest of the people seemed to have taken that as a good enough explanation, especially since it came from the Pyro Archon herself. 

Xiao looked rather solemn at the thought of resurrection, and so did the Wanderer. Somehow, a tear fell on Nahida’s cheeks, but even she didn’t know why.

Surge Vir Fortis I Natam Victoriam.

“Rise, mighty hero, approach your assured victory.” Ororon read.

Citlali grinned, “In Natlan, victory is earned, not given. Every natlanese is a warrior, a hero.”

Mualani’s eyes sparkled as she added, “That’s why our battles don’t end in defeat. We always rise again! It’s the Natlan way!”

“That’s so cool, bro!” Cacucu chirped.

The rest of the Natlanese smiled confidently, proud of the nation and the people they fought so hard for. 

“The rules of war are woven in the womb: The victors must burn bright, while the losers must turn to ash.”

Mualani nodded proudly, “It’s simple: if you fall, you burn. But those who rise from the ashes are the true victors! It’s not over ‘til you give up!”

But the outsiders—those from other nations—exchanged uneasy glances.

Childe crossed his arms, “But what becomes of those who fall? Does this burn not leave something behind that can never be recovered?”

Keqing, truly the pragmatist, “If that is the nature of victory in Natlan... does it not risk turning the world into an endless cycle of conflict, where no one can truly rest once they fall?”

Iansan let out a hearty laugh, brushing aside the concerns. “You outsiders think too much about it. We don’t erase our fallen, we honor them! The fire doesn’t burn them away—it forges them into something stronger, so they can rise again.”

"Very well said, Iansan," Mavuika began, "I understand your confusion. Victory in Natlan isn't something that can be easily understood by those who have not lived as we have. War… is a constant presence, whether we like it or not. For us, battle is woven into the fabric of daily life—survival means rising again after each fight. It’s about overcoming our own weaknesses, forging ourselves stronger in the fire of conflict. The defeated are not forgotten or erased, but rather those who choose to give up are the ones who truly lose. Only then will the losers turn to ash.”

She glanced at the others, remembering her own struggles. "I know this may seem strange, even unsettling, but this is the reality we live in Natlan. We don’t cherish war, but we’ve learned to live with it. We honor the fallen by rising again. In Natlan, a defeat is never the end—it’s simply another step toward strength. I understand that you might not agree, but that’s the way of our people. It’s a different world from yours, and that’s alright. We live by our ways, just as you live by yours."

Childe uncrossed his arms, “Alright, I get it now. I can respect that.”

Keqing nodded, her tone softer. “I was too quick to judge. It’s about perseverance, not conflict. I understand now.”

Mavuika smiled. “Thank you. It’s a different world, but that’s okay.” 

“When the God of War shares this secret with the Traveler, it is because she has her reasons.”

“What secret?” Aether looked at the Pyro Archon, who looked back at him with a knowing mixed with confusion type of look. 

We then see Iansan stepping onto the rock and destroying it with her own fists.

“Wow! Being able to break rocks with your bare fists?” Childe grinned, seemingly seeing some kind of potential, “Would this person ever be up for a spar?”

Collei scratched her head, “I can’t tell what vision she has. Pyro? Or Geo?” 

Ifa heard the young teenager’s comment and answer, “Coach Iansan holds an electro vision, but that was her brute strength.”

“Brute Strength?!” Itto gasped, “Ain’t no way, bro.”

“Yes, dude!” The vet winked at him.

“Coach Iansan is Natlan’s representative though!” Varesa squealed, proud to be her student.

Chasca agreed, "She’s been through more battles than anyone here—no one deserves it more than her."

“Even the Almighty Dragonlord K'uhul Ajaw agrees with this sentiment!” The 2D dragon claimed.

Cacucu looked at the green dragon and said, “For real, bro. Coach Iansan’s the coolest, bro.” Ifa himself nodded to the little Saurian’s thoughts though.

Iansan smiled humbly, “You all are too kind. I’m just one of many who’ve fought for Natlan.” She paused, looking around at her people, “But if I can be the one to represent Natlan, then I’ll wear that honor proudly, for all of us.”

“That’s our Iansan.” Mavuika said.

ACT VI: Snezhnaya. Everwinter Without Mercy. 

Ducam Regina Mea Gloria Haud Pluribus Impar.

The Harbingers stayed quiet, not really open to having an open conversation with the common folk. Thankfully, a couple of siblings in Fontaine were able to read Snezhnaya’s language.

“Let me lead my queen to near unmatched glory.” Lyney read.

The Archons exchanged knowing glances, their expressions unreadable but heavy with shared understanding. They all knew too well the price of pursuing unmatched glory, for their Gnosis had been seized by the Cryo Archon. Some willingly, some in exchange for something, and some taken by force.

Zhongli silently awaited to see what the Tsaritsa intended with all the seized Gnosis.

Nahida’s mind wandered to her unsettling exchange with Dottore, and she looked away.

Neuvillette’s thoughts turned to the destroyed Hydro throne as he stole a glance at Arlecchino, recalling the conversation they shared over the Hydro Gnosis.

Venti absentmindedly massaged his stomach, the lingering pain far more vivid than any memory of the Gnosis.

Ei had long since dismissed the trinket from her mind, while Yae recalled handing her Gnosis to someone, though the details of who escaped her.

Meanwhile, Mavuika remained the only one still holding her Gnosis, keenly aware of the Tsaritsa’s frequent, calculating gaze. It felt like a quiet battle between her flames and the Tsaritsa’s icy stare.

“She is a God with no love left for her people, nor do they have any left for her. Her followers hope only to be on her side when the day of her rebellion against the divine comes at last.” 

Pantalone arched his brow with faint amusement while Columbina hummed softly, eerily unbothered. Arlecchino didn't move an inch. Dottore smiled, not kindly, as though entertained by the world's shallow grasp of their Archon's aims. Pulcinella cast his eyes downward, while Capitano lifted his gaze in contemplation. Sandrone scowled, muttering something under her breath about 'outsiders who know nothing.' Pierro gave no reaction, and Childe reacted fully.

The Tsaritsa merely scoffed at the statement.

The Wanderer let out a sigh. He’s no longer part of the Harbingers, they are of no concern to him anymore.

Yumemizuki’s face fell. “A god with no love left for her own people… I can’t help but wonder… what burden is her mind carrying to reach such a state?”

Baizhu adjusted his glasses. “Emotional detachment on a divine scale... what kind of wounds leave a god hollow?”

“A phenomenon worth studying—emotional regression in a divine being. Was it an erosion of purpose?” Albedo pondered, though he knew he would never unearth a Cryo Archon's emotions with his own hands.

Navia held her breath. “Was she always like that? Or did the world turn her cold?”

We then see  the Rooster, Pulcinella, sitting on an icy throne while Fatui surrounded him.

“Dang, not me?” Childe whispered to himself. He still had to keep up the good guy act to Xinyan.

The other Harbingers did not speak, nor did it look like they acknowledged anything. Still, they all understand this isn’t a coincidence. Pulcinella wasn’t chosen lightly. And if he is the one representing Snezhnaya… then something deeper is at play.

The Tsaritsa raised her chin, eyes not moving.

Diluc clicked his tongue, clearly irate of the presence of so many Fatui Harbingers. Perhaps being banned from Snezhnaya wouldn’t be an obstacle for him to rid the world of the Fatui.

“In a perpetual meantime of a sheltered eternity, most are content to live, and not to dream. But in the hidden corners where God's gaze does not fall, there are those who dream of dreaming.”

Yumemizuki pouted. “ A dream about dreaming… What could that possibly taste like?”

Venti grew quiet, the line tugging at the corners of a long-forgotten song. Zhongli closed his eyes briefly, thinking of those buried in contracts, their hopes dulled by duty. Had he too once stopped dreaming?

"Eternity... has starved Inazuma of dreams." Ei admitted in her mind.

Nahida understood it all too well—how dreams can wilt when watched too closely. Neuvillette understood it too, but chose not to think about it. Mavuika straightened. Dreams meant survival in Natlan, without it, perhaps they have already lost all hope.

ACT []: Khaenri’ah. The Dream Yet to Be Dreamed.

“Khaenri’ah?” Most of the people tilted their heads in confusion.

Venti gritted his teeth, Zhongli let out a sigh, as did Mavuika. Raiden, too, disliked remembering the Cataclysm. Nahida doesn’t seem to remember what happened in the cataclysm, and Furina/Focalor wasn’t the first Hydro Archon. The Tsaritsa didn’t speak as the words Khaenri’ah were shown on screen.

“What’s that? I’ve never heard of that nation before.” Kirara asked.

Lisa suddenly replied, “"It was a land that never knew a god, at least as I remember it. It wasn’t that their deity was killed, left, or abandoned—rather, they never had one in the first place. Information about them is scarce, and most of the records have been lost to time. That’s all I have read during my time at the Akademiya."

Faruzan added, “Other than what she said, there’s nothing else in the Akademiya’s library nor in the Akasha Terminal back then.”

“Huh. It sounds like a novel more than something in history.” Xingqiu thought.

Albedo could not agree with the writer. He doesn’t know much, but he knows full well that his creation and Durin’s are linked to the fall of Khaenri’ah.

Zhongli, too, stood quiet. That place is a tragedy buried deep within the history of Teyvat. It was destroyed long ago, erased from the world’s memory. Venti was just as quiet.

Raiden Ei faltered for a moment, knowing the horrors that occurred in that place 500 years ago.

Mavuika had never seen Khaenri’ah for herself, and yet she pondered. “To think you would walk in its ashes…”

Kaeya’s frown deepened, and Diluc mirrored him, crossing his arms in silence. No words passed between the brothers. Capitano and Pierro bowed their heads in quiet acknowledgement, while Arlecchino remained silent, yet gave a nod toward Khaenri'ah.

“Some say a few are chosen and the rest are dregs, but I say we humans have our humanity. We will defy this world with a power from beyond.” He says, revealing that it was this blonde person appearing on the screen speaking. He waved his hand backward, showing a magic not from Teyvat.

“I remember now. Dainsleif.” Kaeya recalled. Pierro and Capitano eyed the person on the screen.

Meanwhile, the archons seem to be in disbelief at the fact that there were survivors of Khaenri’ah, and that there were those who fought against the curse of immortality and erosion.

“There are still Khaenri’ahns…” Ei mumbled, mostly to herself.

“The stars in his eyes…” Is what Mona slipped in as everyone stared in awe.

Zhongli thought, “A pure-blood Khaenri’ahn still lives ‘til this day. Not once succumbing to erosion.”

“What is that power? It’s like some kind of dark magic!” Bennett commented.

“It’s definitely something else,” Eula looked at the young adventurer, “Especially since it’s related to this… Khaenri’ah.”

“Now you who have set foot into this world. Your journey has reached its end, but one final doorway remains.” And now we see Aether alone in the sea of flowers in an orange hue. 

Paimon let out a gasp but remained silent. She already disliked seeing Aether all alone, but what unsettled her even more was the way Dainsleif spoke—like he was foreshadowing something terrible about to happen to the Traveler.

Nothing could compare to the anguish twisting in Aether’s chest at that moment. He had endured so much—fought, searched, hoped—all for the chance to see his sister again. But now, faced with the possibility that even the end of his journey would leave him alone, the weight of it threatened to crush him.

Was this the end she had meant for him? A lonely path into the ashes of a fallen nation? If so, then why did it feel more like a punishment than a reunion? 

“Step forth, if you have understood the meaning of your journey. Defeat me, command me to step aside, show me that you are worthier than I to rescue her.” 

“Rescue her…?” Aether repeated, worrying if his sister was in trouble. 

The words struck something raw inside him. Until now, he had believed Lumine was always a step ahead, waiting—never lost, never in danger. But the way those words were spoken, heavy and absolute, cracked that belief. Doubt clawed at him. Was she suffering somewhere while he wandered, clueless and too slow to reach her?

Each had crossed paths with him—some as allies, others as cherished companions. He had earned countless names: Honorary Knight, Hero of Liyue, Swordfish Captain, First Sage, Executor of Justice, even ‘Tumaini’. But for all the roles he played and the friendships he forged, he had only one sister. And no amount of titles could bring her back to him.

“Then, the threads of all fate will be yours to reweave.”

“I will save you, Lumine.”

"My memory has all but faded completely... but I will always remember how she, too, loved these flowers."

 heavy stillness fell over everyone—Archons, Harbingers, and the people of Teyvat alike. Deep down, they all felt it: what was about to be revealed wasn’t just dangerous—it was forbidden, the kind of truth that changes everything. And once seen, it could never be forgotten.

“Well,” The author of this fanfiction thought, “Not all of it is forbidden knowledge!”