Chapter Text
Xiao stood on the edge of Wangshu Inn's roof, gazing out at the night sky. The stars above glittered like fragments of memory, unreachable and distant. He crossed his arms, the Primordial Jade Winged-Spear at his back seeming heavier tonight than usual. Perhaps it was the weight of his thoughts—or the sheer absurdity of what he was about to discuss.
“Let me ask you something,” Xiao began, his voice as cold and cutting as the mountain winds. “Why are you so eager to summon me? To use my strength? You think my abilities will make you invincible? That I, an adeptus of immense power and experience, will carry your battles with ease?” His golden eyes flicked downward, almost disdainfully. “If so, you are gravely mistaken.”
Xiao took a deep breath, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Do you know what it’s like to fight endlessly, to slay countless demons for centuries? To stand as the last remaining Yaksha, burdened by a karmic debt so immense it poisons your soul with every breath?” He clenched a fist, the wind around him stirring with quiet fury. “And yet, in your world, this is reduced to a… kit. A series of numbers. A mechanical loop of plunging and dashing.”
He leapt gracefully into the air, landing lightly as if to demonstrate his point. “My combat style, my essence as an adeptus, is elegant, efficient, lethal. I don’t hop up and down like some deranged sparrow wielding a stick.” His voice grew harsher, frustration slipping through his carefully controlled demeanor. “And yet, in your so-called ‘game,’ that is precisely what I do. Plunge, plunge, plunge. It’s laughable. Do you truly think this represents me? My legacy? My pain?”
Xiao turned sharply, pacing along the edge of the roof. “And then there is the matter of this… gacha system. You mortals pour your time, your patience, even your hard-earned mora into this abyssal construct, chasing after fleeting moments of satisfaction. It’s not storytelling; it’s a hollow imitation. A cruel cycle where the old is discarded for the new—where even the most celebrated and storied among us are reduced to afterthoughts.” His voice softened slightly, though the bitterness remained. “I know this truth too well. My own story, full of complexity, depth, and suffering, is left in stasis. Forgotten, overshadowed by newer, shinier faces.”
He stopped, staring into the distance, his voice heavy with resignation. “Look at me. Four years since my introduction in Liyue, and what have I achieved? I protect Liyue, yes. I maintain my vigil. But beyond that, I am trapped in a loop of time-limited events and token appearances at Lantern Rite. My karmic debt festers, my story stagnates. There is no resolution. No growth. Not for me, not for others like Albedo, Kazuha, Ayaka...even Lord Morax...those who also wait for their time to continue. This is the nature of your gacha construct.”
His eyes narrowed, a spark of defiance flickering in his gaze. “Do you know what this reminds me of? My time under my old master’s command. Back then, I fought and killed without end, bound by orders I had no choice but to follow. Morax saved me from that abyss, yes, but…” Xiao hesitated, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Did he truly save me? Or did he merely place me in another cage—one gilded with duty and honor, but a cage nonetheless?”
Xiao’s gaze fell to the ground below, his shoulders tense. “The irony is not lost on me. Mihoyo crafts stories of sacrifice, of suffering, of growth—and yet, they trap us in a system that contradicts those very themes. How can I evolve when my existence is dictated by their whims? How can I truly be free when my story is only told in fragments, spread thin over years?”
Xiao turned back to face the empty night, his expression unreadable. “If you want my strength, know this: I am not just a tool for your amusement. I am not a prize to be won. And if you think summoning me will solve your problems, you are wrong. My power comes at a cost—a cost that even I continue to pay."
“So, perhaps you should think twice before pulling for me. Perhaps you should ask yourself: Is this really what you want? Or are you merely another soul chasing the fleeting promises of a flawed system?”
He exhaled slowly, his anger ebbing into something more subdued. “You mortals are always chasing something. And yet, you never seem to catch it. Perhaps, in the end, we’re not so different after all.”