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It’s on the first dawn of the Summer Solstice that Xiao first found love and the dusk of this year’s Winter Solstice that he loses it.
I.
It has been a long time since Xiao has dreamed. It has always been difficult—and he has been relying on Venti for his happiness, so it has become impossible for himself to dream when Venti has been so troubled. So when he opens his eyes, the world feels so surreal yet again that he might as well be dreaming.
Xiao is tickled awake by the wings of an Anemo crystalfly fluttering past his nose. He blinks once and he notices how bright the night sky is, stars awfully crystalline, much clearer than they have been in days since the winter weather got dull in Monstadt. His eyes glisten with sadness and he reaches a hand out for the sky. How nice it would be if he had the universe in his grasp, and if he had even little control, he would make sure there was no trouble in the world. His heart aches in his chest and he lurches up, clutching onto the fabric of his shirt so tightly and desperately, it might rip. The grass rustles with the wind, making his skin itch. Something’s wrong. All at once, he’s hit with the bodily warmth of the frolicking fireflies and Venti’s lack thereof.
He blinks away the bleariness in his eyes and rubs his face quickly, jolted awake by his now throbbing heart. Xiao scowls—he hates this feeling, the intense rush of adrenaline right after waking up that makes it feel like he's falling. But instead of sparing a thought to himself, he must go—he must leave and find Venti before it's too late. There is no imprint on the grass, so Venti must've left hours ago and Xiao feels stupid or staying asleep and believing when he said he would be here. But he knows the archon enough to deduce exactly where he would be. Where do you wander? How far could a lost soul truly roam?
His gaze falls grudgingly upon Venti’s stature perched quietly under the cover of the Windrise oak, standing proud. Its cool glow fades slowly into the darkness. Xiao’s hardened expression falters, and he remembers this has happened far too many times for him to be sad anymore.
And so, he wanders to the statue with the remaining energy in his limbs, eyes fixated on the swaying silhouette of Venti lying in the cement hands of his own statue with a bottle of wine. Xiao accidentally crushes a leaf under his weight. Venti does not move out of alarm, nor does he react at all—far too drunk for him to be conscious of danger.
Xiao's heart sinks, but he could not possibly say why. Slowly and hesitantly, he clambers into his seat by the Archon's side and waits. He remains silent—waiting, and doing so very patiently but anxiously for Venti to speak. “I woke up again. Early enough to watch the moon fall,” Venti confesses shamelessly, lowering his voice into a hoarse chuckle. It’s instantaneous, the way Xiao’s relief of hearing Venti’s voice immediately morphs into emotions of concern.
"You said you would try to—" Xiao then pauses, knowing it was selfish to assume it was so easy for him to rest just because he'd given his words. Embarrassment leaves his cheeks flushed, knowing he is partially indebted to the Archon for being the reason he has nightmares. Venti holds most of his burdens on his behalf, to relieve Xiao of his sorrowful memories from the Archon War and Xiao knows, even after millennias of passing—that he would not have been alive without Venti's mercy.
"—Being home doesn't help?" he asks instead.
Above head, the sky grows lighter, the jarring shade of navy blue softening into a beautiful teal stained with oranges and reds. It almost looks as if the sky has been impaled, and now it's bleeding out. Xiao winces.
"I think staying in Liyue would've been better," Venti sighs, alcohol heavy in his breath. He sways his feet out, with not a single thought behind his foggy eyes. Sunrise in Mondstadt looks different based on who you're with and where—and sitting upon a place so high, it’s comforting in a way, and gorgeous too, the sun emerging from the horizon. But it is a painful way to hold such a delicate memory, sitting beside someone who's as dead as they are alive in the shell of a deteriorating body. As an immortal himself, Xiao does his best to empathise but there is so little he can do, because Archons truly bear an extraordinary weight that he, too, would fail to understand.
“You were anxious, always saying that the people were calling to you and that your city would die if you weren’t with them, but I have been watching over Mondstadt and the people have been fine. Can you not share your worries with me?” Xiao asks, but the reminder seems to be too painful for Venti, who flinches in response. He clenches his fists around the dirty concrete of his statue, forcing an uncomfortable smile. Xiao lowers his gaze. I must have made the wrong decision, Xiao regrets, I should have held back from saying that.
“It’s harder here,” Venti tightens his grip around the crumbling edge of the cliff. “Wherever I go, it’s like I can always hear their screams and I… I don’t know why. Why are they suddenly so sad and who is it? Monstadt looks so happy in the day.”
“Even when you’re further away from the city?” Xiao questions, knowing it’s a stupid thing to ask. How would distance make a difference? “Should you really have given your Gnosis to the Fatui? You know, I…”
“What could you have done for me, Xiao?” Venti interrupts, turning his head to reveal glossy viridescent eyes. And as drunk as he is, the Adeptus knows that it isn't the drunkenness that has him so unravelled. It hurts to be locking eyes in a moment like this—when Venti's eyes resemble coloured glass, similar to a shattered mural in a way, and to see what Xiao had always admired in such a melancholy light. Xiao feels guilty that his heart’s picking up pace in a situation like this so he hides his face. It is so saddening that Venti talks to him with such adoring words, but he would never have an answer for them. He can’t bring himself to lift his gaze. He can’t.
“I would’ve tried.”
“Unfortunately, trying isn’t always enough,” Venti chuckles as he stands. Xiao’s heart aches. The Archon arches an eyebrow and reaches out a hand. "Why do you let your heart hurt so greatly for such a distant stranger?" he breathes and Xiao is so taken aback by his words that he presses a hand against Venti's mouth roughly. His words, his assumptions—they were so wrong. It was so wrong to consider them strangers, because if they were not friends, they would at least be forced acquaintances. If their relationship had no name, then this world would not know love, because there was no greater dedication than what Xiao held for Venti.
He furrows his eyebrows so deeply that they leave creases on his forehead. Venti does not pull away, nor does he try to pose a fight, and it is so startling to Xiao that he has no emotion at all. Under the sunlight, even on his semi-dark silhouette, the tears that stain Venti's cheeks glisten. A bright pink liquid trickles down from his forehead along the curve of his face, an open cut on the centre of his palm oozing the same fluorescent pink.
“What happened?” Xiao gasps though his expression changing too little, the only sign of his worry being his widened eyes.
He takes Venti’s hand and cups it in his own, caressing the sides of Venti’s open wounds. “How did this happen if you were just sitting there?”
“I don’t know what happened,” Venti laughs awkwardly. “Haha.” Xiao’s gaze falls. He notices fresh scratches atop old scars lining Venti’s skin. They remind him too much of his own. Venti holds Xiao’s face, forcing their eyes to meet. In a gentle, inviting voice, he entices, “Alatus, have you ever wanted to fly?”
"Venti, you know I don't go by that name anymore. I detest it," he argues, snatching his hand back towards himself. He rubs the heat of Venti's lips from his palm with his thumb. He has never felt like his name fit him—'Alatus', an old label which was vested upon him aeons ago. It was a terrible time, a terrible name in memory of that time, and he has never enjoyed it. Zhongli had once told him that it means winged in a language that has long died, one that flies. But Xiao has never had wings, and while he lingers at untouchable heights, he has never been able to fly. There was an age long in the past and he was courageous enough to do so, when he had first met Venti as Barbatos.
Venti smiles apologetically. Contrary to Xiao, he has always adored the name. "Would you like to try? For old time's sake."
“What do you mean? Don’t we—Need to get your—” Xiao speaks in between breaths but Venti was not seeking approval, but was instead bracing Xiao for what he intended to do next. He grabs the unsuspecting Adeptus by his wrists, pulling him forward. First, Xiao furrows his eyebrows. Second, his face freezes.
Finally, he comes to terms with the reality that he's falling, and he's falling so fast that he can't fathom his situation. Words evaporate from the tips of his tongue as he stares owlishly at solid ground beneath him, the imprint of the hand that had pushed him so roughly and suddenly still on his back. Venti steps off the edge and falls too. Terror-stricken, Xiao reaches a hand out to grab anything that may be possible to hold, but he is in an empty field with a scarcity of trees. “Venti, what?!” Xiao holds his breath, tightening his grip around Venti’s wrist.
“Trust me,” Venti giggles, pressing a finger to his lips. He closes his eyes and as he does, there’s a bright, almost blinding light. Xiao winces, turning his face away, mind racing with a million thoughts. When he opens them again, he finds himself close to the water, at least a few meters away but closer than he’d like to be. This is it. It's always one of Venti's stupid ideas and now we'll both be dead.
“You’re more of a coward than you look, Xiao,” Venti laughs out loud. Xiao trembles but when he musters the courage to look again, he’s nowhere close to the ground. In fact, he’s even higher than the statue they'd fallen from, higher than he’s ever been, really. Venti leads him up to the clouds, wrapping his arms around Xiao’s neck warmly with his wings spread out widely behind him. He looks different but more familiar than in his every day form, like the olden days, a form of his that Xiao hasn’t seen in decades. He adorns a pearly white outfit with intricacies done in gold and gorgeous teal wings. The gold of his ornaments, though, fail to shine more than his smile.
They look heavy. I wonder how he still flies, Xiao’s expression softens.
“You’re horrible,” Xiao grumbles under his breath, hugging the Archon by his waist. He observes Venti’s waist, noticing the bruises and cuts he’s never noticed before. They’re bright against his pale skin. “Where are you getting these new injuries from?” His heart is still throbbing from being so high up in the air. Because he has not flown in so long, his wings are incapacitated and barely have the strength to carry his entire weight. It is both thrilling and terrifying to rely entirely on Venti whose unpredictability could end up with him being dropped.
“Well, without my Gnosis, I’m weak to a lot of things,” Venti shrugs, releasing Xiao but holding his hand. Xiao catches his breath, feeling like he’s just seconds away from plummeting to his demise. They walk on the clouds, the wind carrying Xiao on his feet. Xiao bites his lip anticipatively, his eyes toward the ground.
“You need to take care of yourself,” the Adeptus mutters breathlessly, still trying to regain his composure.
“Okay,” Venti tugs at Xiao’s hand and then grabs his waist, leaning him over his hand. Xiao’s eyes widen in shock. He blinks. He gawks. The sun is over Venti’s head in the most perfect manner, as if Venti’s silhouette is one with the sun’s. He’s distracted, more than he should be considering how much his heart’s thumping against his chest. He’s not so sure it’s out of fear anymore.
“You should… Put us down…” Xiao fumbles, face flushed.
“Aw, I was starting to have fun,” Venti feigns disappointment. Instead of flying toward the direction of the cliff, he holds Xiao and swoops directly downwards, where there’s nothing except an ocean. Xiao’s body goes limp in Venti’s arms, like he’s sick of the adrenaline. It’s only when his body’s wrapped by the cold ocean waves that he returns to his senses, washed over by another bout of shock. “What was that for?” he chastises, combing his head back with his fingers. He looks down. He frowns. The water’s purple.
Venti emerges from the water over dramatically, keeping himself afloat with his soggy wings. Xiao notices how a new cut has emerged on his collar bone, pink blood falling along his arm, down into the stained water. Xiao doesn’t hesitate to swim forward, stroking the injury with his thumb. Venti laughs, ticklish, trying to move away. “What’s this pink liquid? It’s all over you,” Xiao spits with a disgruntled look etched permanently onto his face.
“Nothing that you need to worry about,” he dodges, dipping underwater again. Xiao squints, trying to watch Venti’s movement. The Archon reappears behind him, hugging him around the shoulders, body pressed tightly against the Adeptus’. “Let’s play together,” Venti whispers.
“Oi, you’re injured and that’s all you’re thinking about?!” Xiao stammers, angling his jaw towards Venti who wears a pouty expression.
Xiao’s ears flame out of sheepishness.
“Nevermind, I’ll bring you home.”
II.
Xiao isn’t a doctor, nor is he a healer. His hands are calloused and inexperienced, knowing not much more than the feeling of blood. When he’s sick, he typically visits the Adeptus’ Abode at Qingyun Peak where if Ganyu’s around, he’ll seek treatment from her. Else, he’d simply lie down by the pond to recuperate his energy. And he was fine living this way, letting his wounds close up once enough time passes. However, seeing Venti so injured and so regularly, he starts to wish he’s learned first-aid. So once again, he shows up awkwardly to the Cathedral at dawn after being sent out of their temporary home by Venti, hoping to find bandages or even medicine.
Days have passed—but not easily—since Xiao first found out about Venti’s mysterious injuries. It’s been getting harder to pretend he doesn’t notice Venti wheezing in the middle of the night and trembling in the corner of their bedroom. They’ve travelled to many places—ventured to many cliffsides and even rented out a house in the city but no place is a place suited enough for Venti to call home. And it is a pain that Xiao takes upon his shoulders too, because a place that Venti could not call home was a place that couldn't ever be good enough for Xiao.
“I was wondering if you had any medication,” Xiao inquires straightforwardly as he steps into the cathedral, as cold as ever although he and Barbara have met several times now. It’s empty, other than the presence of a few of the nuns who are either cleaning or preparing for the morning prayers.
Barbara turns on her heel, raising her eyebrow at the visitor she'd expected to see soon. “What for? You could check with the alchemist or Flora,” she approaches Xiao, a rag in her hand.
“It’s for Venti.”
“I see. I was expecting your presence sometime soon,” Barbara sighs, folding her arms. She taps her foot against the ground, now frustrated, running rapidly out of plausible options as treatments. The medicine she'd issued before has been failing and it's obvious from the way Xiao is always returning, and even with her irregular healing, Venti has not shown any progress with his deteriorating health. “Is it because of his alcoholism?”
“There’s wounds appearing all over his body and I don’t know what it is. And there's a bright pink liquid too. It could be blood? I don’t know, he won’t tell me,” Xiao admits, lowering his gaze. Barbara’s face falls. Her lips part and in her eyes, there’s a tinge of sadness. She knows something. Without another word, she turns her back to him.
“All I can advise you is to stay by our Archon’s side,” Barbara explains, tightening her grip around the fabric in her hands. “He’s going through a hard time.”
“Save him if you can,” are the last words Xiao hears from Barbara before he dashes through the doors of the Cathedral, running at the speed of light back to their house. Even now, he has no idea about what awaits him or what he’s facing. What he knows is that Venti’s in some form of trouble and that he needs saving. It’s all he needs to know.
Xiao burst through the bedroom door, palm against his knees. Some way or another, in front of him, is a drunk Venti sprawled across the floor at high noon, a couple bottles of his favourite Dandelion Wine cluttered against the floorboards. “I told you… not to come home,” Venti tries to scold, but it only comes out in a weak voice. He rolls onto his back, covering his eyes, but not enough to cover his flushed cheeks.
“How the fuck does this keep happening?!” Xiao grimaces as he falls onto his knees, helping Venti up onto the bed, wrapping one of his limp arms around his shoulders. Xiao kneels on the ground, holding Venti’s wrists, hardening his gaze on Venti. “Can’t you tell me something? I have no idea what’s going on with you.”
“Let me help,” Xiao’s voice softens into a pleading one, a brief tremor audible. Venti’s eyes flash purple and though it’s just a second, it might’ve been the most vivid thing Xiao has seen in his thousands of years of living. In Venti’s eyes, he sees everything in the abyss and beyond just in Venti’s eyes, a broken ridge under the dusk sky, the silhouette of a broken soul swaying with the wind.
“It’s too much,” Venti shakes Xiao by his shoulders. The Adeptus’ previous frustration ebbs away, morphing into fear. He slumps back, trembling as Venti’s fingernails sink into his skin. “It’s too hard listening to the people call for my name but never knowing the problem.”
“Every day, every night, I open my eyes and hear their sobs. When I close them, I see people crying in their homes, begging me for help for problems I know nothing about. I don’t know what they’re asking. Do you? How could they be so sad in this free city, full of love and happiness? Isn’t despair what I saved them from all those years ago?” Venti rants, voice getting increasingly louder, movements more and more aggressive. When his voice runs hoarse and dry from screaming, he falls forward onto Xiao, his nose tucked in the crook of the Adeptus’ neck.
Xiao angles his face away, hopelessness engulfing him. Silently, he strokes the length of Venti’s spine as he likes it, holding him gently as if the Archon is so fragile, he might break with pressure.
“Alatus, I’m certain my end is near,” Venti confesses, his voice several pitches deeper—solemn, emotionless.
Xiao dips his head, and hearing his old names leaves an emptiness within him more so than it did before. He raises his gaze, but he sees only a mess of colours, a disarray of objects and discord of shrill sounds in his ears. It has all started to come apart. And even in the arms of the person he most loves, he begins to feel so alone.
For someone as carefree as himself, so accustomed to alcohol for as long as he can remember—in the clutches of his favourite wine, Venti has never been so close to the feeling of drowning. Xiao shuts his eyes, finding it hard to swallow, unwilling to digest the information that, really, has been weighing down at the corners of his consciousness for the longest time. It’s taken him way too long to persuade himself that the worst would cease to happen and there’s too little time for him to cope with the fact that he’s been lying to himself for too long.
“If Monstadt is ever in danger because of me, please… Make it so that I die in your hands and in no one else’s.”
A tear slips off Xiao’s eyelid. Archons, the alcohol is so pungent.
III.
It’s like watching the world burn.
Xiao is awoken in the wee hours of the night to horrified screams beyond his door followed by the deathly sounds of crashing and falling. He jolts awake, his heart speeding up as it dawns on him what might be happening. He taps the bed next to him, his neck snapping to the side where he realises, to his terror, Venti isn’t with him. While this has happened countless times before, there is a chillness in the air despite the blazing fire and the door being stained with that foreign pink liquid sends a pang of nervousness through his chest. In a frenzy, Xiao grabs his Primordial Jade rested against the wall, heartbeat thrumming against its surface. He follows exactly as his instinct tells him, climbing to the roof where he’d be able to get a better look of the city.
What he sees next, truly, cannot be expressed in simple words. The city is in ashes, but the despair the ricochets through the air is so contagious that Xiao is filled with a myriad of unnamed emotions. He breathes, but the air is so pungent he retches and has to clutch his mouth to keep himself steady. The buildings are enveloped by gorging purple flames, embers leaping high into the air, destroying all that stands. Screams pierce the air, but Xiao spares no time to feel fear and instead searches for Venti. Cinders litter the street, ashes falling into disarray as Xiao runs through the streets at his quickest.
Venti. Xiao’s gaze falls toward the tall concrete entrance of Monstadt where suddenly, the ground trembles and the stone on the arch of the gates crumble, blocking any way out. A crowd of families trying to run for their lives gather in front of the rubble, some crushed and others trying to climb over.
Venti. Xiao wrenches his neck to the statue in front of the Cathedral, the one of Barbatos. It’s in a state no one has ever seen before, eyes an ominous shade of purple with a black void resting sinisterly on the palms of the structure.
Venti. Xiao raises his gaze skyward where finally, he sees the person he’s been seeking. His heart thumps at the sight of Venti mid-air, his once-white wings now ashen like those of a raven. Xiao’s heart shatters because from first glance, he knows, deep down to the core of his conscience, that the Venti he’s looking at is not the man he’s known and loved. Clenching his fist, he jumps from roof to roof, to a section of the brick wall that still stands by the fallen gates and then he leaps. He meets Venti in the sky.
“Oh? It’s you,” a malicious voice slips out of Venti’s lips. Xiao grits his teeth under the fox-shaped Nuo mask that now hides his face. Emerald embers keep him in the sky, a teal aura surrounding him like a cloud.
“Venti, it’s me,” Xiao repeats, like Venti has missed the entire point.
“Barbatos, you mean,” he corrects as he dips and then flies, grabbing Xiao from behind. He holds Xiao by the neck, hugging the Adeptus with his wings. Xiao winces, gulping hard.
“It’s not too late to stop now.” But it is, and Xiao knows this well. Monstadt is now a broken city, much like it used to be during Stormterror’s rule eons ago. Howls reverberate loudly through the sky, the sound of crackling and crashing and crying—but if they tried, it would be enough. Xiao would stay in Mondstadt till it's better, and while Venti would never find the forgiveness of the Mondstadtians, Xiao would never leave.
“Isn’t it?” Venti upturns Xiao’s chin towards him. Xiao notices Venti’s face, odd patterns on his cheeks glowing purple. For just a second, he catches the purple in his eyes waver, softening into the teal-blue he used to know. ‘Help’, Venti screamed from the absolute core of his being. ‘Get me out of here. Xiao.’
Xiao bites his lip, fighting out of Venti’s grip. Holding his spear to Venti’s neck, he hisses, “You wouldn’t have wanted this.”
“Oh, really?” Venti twirls his braids. Oh, they’re purple too. “Won’t a city be free of despair when it simply ceases to exist? I’m only doing this for my people.”
“Your people?! You’re setting their city on fire!” Xiao takes a step forward, threatening to get a hit on him. Venti wields his bow, hitting the blade away. Filling in an arrow, he holds it toward the sky, waiting till the tip of it glows the same ominous shade of purple as the rest of the ignited city. “I won’t let you ruin everything you care about,” Xiao snatches the arrow.
Archons, it burns like hellfire.
Summoning the Anemo energy from within him, he manages to dim the energy in the arrow enough to be able to throw it away. When he lifts his palm, it’s charred. He places his foot in between Venti’s feet, pressing the rod of his Primordial Jade against his neck. Venti hisses like a beast threatened and kicks Xiao at his shin, throwing him off-balance. Xiao grunts, rubbing his back where it had been gashed by the jagged ground. He has been in enough battles to be able to handle the pain of one attack, though the increasing burden of having to fight the one he so adores is one he would not have ever felt before.
“It’s going to take a lot more than that to wound me, Alatus,” he chuckles menacingly, lifting his hand. A swirl of purple wind blows at Xiao, like hot air, burning the surface of his skin.
“I’m no easy fight either, Barbatos,” Xiao retaliates, jumping forward and slashing at Venti’s hip in an attempt to immobilise him. The Archon is quick to dodge, flying to his sides dexterously, effortlessly dodging any attempt of Xiao’s to attack. Venti, clenching his jaw, reaches forward, gripping onto Xiao’s neck.
As he does, he pushes Xiao towards the ground and Xiao tries to keep his heart from falling into the pit of his stomach because currently, he’s about to fall onto hard ground from thirty feet high in the sky. Xiao tightens his fingers around Venti’s shoulder blade for support, bracing his mind. This can’t be it. I gave him my word. It hurts most that the last thing he’ll see is the shell of a man he could’ve saved.
He closes his eyes shut, ears ringing loudly. When he opens them again, his hearing is deafened and all he hears is a crash, cold water enveloping his body. The opportunity for an escape opens itself so Xiao struggles and swims away to save himself. He bites down on his lower lip to manage the searing agony of the burns from the fire. The water flashes purple. The ornaments on Venti’s shorts flicker. I must dodge the light. Xiao avoids the flashes to earn himself some time to recover and still, he searches persistently for his weapon. Beneath him, his attention is caught by an emerald glint amongst the darkness and his hands touch something solid.
Xiao rises with his weapon now in his hand and with a burning determination to push on, he soars into the sky with his damp wings and bitterness. Venti flies from the water at the sight of Xiao and moves at a speed so rapid, Xiao can barely keep up. Xiao squints to see through the thick smoke and though accidentally, makes a gash at Venti’s arm. Purple seeps from his wound and into the water below. And all of a sudden, Xiao feels guilty all over again. It isn’t Venti that you’re hurting. It’s not him.
But it is so difficult to find his strength, that Xiao has to close his eyes to find courage. He recites his Archon's name like a prayer against his lips, begging for forgiveness from himself and Venti—not the monster he has become but the caring, fun-loving deity he used to be. His Anemo energy surging through his veins, Xiao grabs onto Venti’s shirt and hoists him up. He plunges out of the water, resulting in a bright, turquoise explosion in the river right beyond the city gates.
With all his strength, Xiao flings Venti onto the ground. Venti crashes and is left with no time to fight back, events unfurling too quickly for him to react. The ground splits where he falls, rocks flying mid-air. Xiao lands on his feet, pinning Venti to the ground with his spear missing him by the skin of his teeth. Looming over Venti, Xiao hisses, “You’re not getting away from me this time.”
“Ha, and I thought I was doing a good job,” Venti laughs, a pained look in his eyes. His throat is dry and voice hoarse like his vocal chords have been ripped out, he coughs defeatedly, “Just kill me.”
Xiao stares, baffled at the way blood pools around him, staining the dirt. It must’ve been because he knows how weak he is that he relied on dodging to keep himself alive. “You’re weak without the Gnosis, aren’t you? You’ve never admitted to it.”
“Starting a conversation only delays my death, Alatus,” Venti turns his head to face Xiao. When their eyes meet, Xiao no longer sees purple. It’s blue, the same perfect blue as before and it doesn’t waver.
“How could you look at me with those eyes and still plead for death?” he presses his foot harder against Venti’s chest. And the Archon still quivers, trembling hard with fear as the purple in his braids fade back to turquoise and parts of his flesh chip away into blue-purple wisps that would eventually return to the atmosphere as dust.
“You mustn’t let anything stand in the way of your duty,” he reminds, closing his eyes. On his face, his lips curve briefly into a tiny smile. “Till we meet again…”
“Xiao.” The Adeptus plunges his spear through Venti’s heart.