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Wanderer is no stranger to falling. He’s done it plenty of times, both before and after getting his Vision. He fell plenty of times on Fatui missions, fell out of the Shouki no Kami after his defeat, falls out of the air every once in a while from stray projectiles… falling is familiar, and nothing to be afraid of given his inorganic constitution. If a limb comes off, he can just pop it back on.
So when he’s shot out of the sky by an arrow, he feels no fear. In fact, he laughs — do those moronic Treasure Hoarders really think this will slow him down? He’ll just land on his feet and shoot his own Anemo projectiles right back… and those will hurt a lot more than an arrow that couldn’t even pierce his chest!
But he doesn’t land on his feet.
He realizes seconds too late that he was hovering over the edge of a cliff, and his attempt to grab onto it misses by mere inches. He tries to channel Anemo, but finds that he can’t — a quick peek down reveals that the arrow from before had dislodged his Vision from its place over where a beating heart should be.
Those bastards! So they weren’t aiming to kill after all…? Wanderer’s mind races as he tries to think of a way out of this. He’s still falling, and he knows that even if this doesn’t kill him, it’ll hurt like hell when he hits the ground — and he’ll no doubt be in pieces at minimum. His eyes flick in every direction, but there’s nothing he can use to slow his fall… and he doesn’t dare look down.
Free-falling has been something he dreads ever since being defeated all those months ago. The only difference between then and now is the fact that he’ll be landing on his back rather than his head — and he’s not sure which would be worse. But this certainly brings back bad memories.
And this time around… well, he’s in the middle of nowhere. No one will be there to see him fall, let alone catch him. Damnit, he only took on those Treasure Hoarders as a favor to Aether! Needless to say, he won’t be doing any more charity for the outlander anytime soon — assuming he even survives this. As the seconds tick by, the odds seem ever slimmer.
Wanderer closes his eyes, trying not to think about gnoses and thick violet cables. Tries not to imagine the head cavity of a mobile prison and the despair he felt at losing. Tries not to think about the way the wind whistles in his ears, and how the ground beneath him is inevitably going to break him apart.
Fuck. I’m going to die.
He keeps falling. Keeps distracting himself from the past and how it still haunts him. Keeps trying to reassure himself that at least it’ll be over quickly — just an explosion of agony and then he’s gone.
Just before he accepts his impending demise, a warm body slams directly into his own. He shouts, startled, as arms wrap around him and pull him ever closer. He registers a thin frame and lean muscle right as his apparent rescuer alights on the ground, easily landing on their feet. They put him down, offering an arm as he stumbles but saying nothing.
Wanderer looks up to see who caught him and is surprised to see that it’s a man not much bigger than he is. Dark hair with teal highlights, golden eyes that seem to pierce right through him, and a perpetual lour that seems stuck on his face. A total stranger that looks like he hasn’t slept nor eaten in days.
How did this twig of a human manage to save him?
“You good?” the man asks, voice raspy, as if he’s not used to talking.
“Yeah,” Wanderer replies cautiously. “…Who are you, exactly?”
“Adeptus Xiao. Conqueror of Demons.” Xiao’s words are as abrupt as his arrival, and he turns to leave with equal speed. “If you’re fine, then there’s no need for me to be here —“
“Hold on a minute,” Wanderer retorts, feeling rather offended. “You can’t just show up out of nowhere, save a man’s life, and then leave just like that! I have questions!”
“…Ask someone else.” And just like that, Xiao disappears in a puff of darkness laced with teal.
Wanderer huffs. Rude. Didn’t even say goodbye. He ignores the niggling voice in the background of his head telling him that he’s not exactly the pinnacle of politeness either and looks back up to where he fell. Those Treasure Hoarders either have his Vision or abandoned it after sending him over the cliff. He’s got to get it back, and soon, because night is fast approaching —
Xiao suddenly reappears, causing Wanderer to flinch and yelp out a curse. “Is this yours?” the adeptus asks in lieu of a greeting, holding out his Vision.
“Yeah, it is,” Wanderer replies, taking it and clipping it back into its rightful place over the left side of his chest. “Thanks.”
“Don’t bother.” Xiao disappears once more, leaving Wanderer alone with more questions than answers.
“Who the hell does he think he is?” Wanderer mutters, swiftly deciding not to muse on it until he’s in a safer location. After a brief mental pep talk, he forces himself to take flight once more and flies back up the cliff. Secretly, he hopes the Treasure Hoarders are still there just so he has an excuse to let his anger out on someone, but by the time he reaches the plateau, they’re all… unconscious?
Wanderer lands and decides to approach one. He gives the man a gentle kick — well, his brand of gentle, which is not very gentle at all — and gets no response.
“Huh,” he says aloud. Xiao must have gotten to them. “You all deserved that.”
While he’s not exactly happy that his vengeance was essentially stolen (gods, he misses being able to commit murder with no consequences save for a verbal slap on the wrist), his thirst for retribution has been sated, and now Wanderer can finally go the fuck home and pretend this never happened.
Still, he allows himself one final look behind him, and he thinks he can see a figure standing atop a boulder, spear in hand and golden eyes gleaming in the evening light. What a creep, he thinks to himself, and finally sets off for Sumeru City.