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It had been purely a coincidence that Tartaglia found out that Zhongli was actually the Geo archon.
“Yes… Rex Lapis has shed his identity as an adeptus and an archon…but he is not truly gone…Much like a cicada shedding its skin…”
“I’ve heard his current identity is the Wangsheng funeral parlour’s consultant…”
“Ah? Right, the knowledgeable sir...”
“Zhongli.”
The conversation between the two half-adepti had Tartaglia almost slipping off the roof of the jade chamber just then. The fact he just found out – about how a few among the ranks of the Liyue Qixing, like Ganyu and Yanfei, were in fact related to the adepti – was cleanly washed out of his brain. Their adeptus identity had allowed them access to such state secrets that likely no others were privy to.
But at this moment, Childe couldn’t care less.
’God?’ Childe thought, with a bizarre smile hanging on his lips. He slowly slid down the edges of the green terracotta tiles that framed the roof of Ningguang's pride and joy, and silently slipped off to the neighbouring mountains, unbeknownst to anyone in the vicinity.
Such skill was wieldy only of the illuminated warrior Childe, Eleventh of the Fatui Harbingers.
’Zhongli… is a god.’ Tartaglia stopped his footsteps among the tall grass that reached up to his knees, the smile fading from his face. He was suddenly compelled to look up at the dazzling night sky.
The moon hung amidst vast nebulae, spots of lights scattered countlessly in a stretch of purple and blue. The stars looked like they were chasing after the round, unreachable moon.
’No wonder, no wonder!’
Childe immediately realised that this explained a multitude of events he had mulled over in the past.
The endless, almost alarming amount of knowledge the man withheld, the calm bearing, the strange naivete unsuited to a mortal in the secular world, the careful scheming that had fooled even him… and lastly, those eyes.
Those tranquil golden eyes that reflected nothing but what seemed to be thousands of years of vicissitudes.
But he had ignored all of it. He had firmly believed in the facade presented to him, despite having the brains and ability to see through it all. The mask wasn’t perfect, after all.
Why?
.
.
‘Because,’ Childe realised. ‘I liked the facade.'
'I liked who he was regardless of how it blended truth and lies.’
A cloud drifted through the night sky, overtaking the stars and abruptly covered the brilliant moon. Smeared in shadows, Childe’s dull blue eyes were accentuated by the sudden emergence of a mad glint in his hungry gaze.
In that moment, he wasn’t Childe, the battle maniac who lusted for conquest, nor Tartaglia, the Fatui’s Eleventh Harbinger. He was thoroughly reduced to Ajax, the truest, most primaeval and instinctive part of his personality–
A vague vision flashed in his mind’s eye. Those ebony locks in a disarray against the light sheets, that pale skin splashed violently with colour, and those eyes gazing at him with blatant, debauched desire as he gets violated.
“Ajax..!” That low voice would moan breathily–
Ajax wanted to hold Zhongli in his hands. He wanted to seal him away from the prying gazes of others. He wanted to utterly possess that man.
“God?” Ajax laughed out loud, the insane light still prevalent in his eyes. “If he is god, then so be it.”
The clouds that floated above tightly covered up the brilliant moon, leaving Ajax alone in the intense darkness wearing a smile and an insane spark in his eyes.
“I will just have to commit blasphemy.”