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“Why are you doing this?” Cyno growled, all of his willpower and training keeping the pain and rising anxiety out of his voice.
Azar remained unfazed and smug, likely due to the unfortunate fact that Cyno really couldn’t fold him in half like he wanted to. “That is not your concern, Mahamatra. After all, it isn’t as if you are going to leave this place alive.”
Cyno glared, unwilling to let Azar leave his sight, even though he wouldn’t be able to move or react if Azar decided to do anything. The manacled chains did an annoyingly good job at keeping him in place, two sets on each arm linking him to opposite walls of what had to be an underground desert temple chamber, judging by what Cyno could see of it in the dim torch light, and his feet to the floor of some kind of altar. It was none that he recognized, but that didn’t mean much.
The Fatui operatives had caught him by surprise. Cyno had seen them, yes, traveling on the desert road as Cyno was traveling back to the rainforest, and he had watched them the entire time, but it wasn’t as if they could not be on a neutral road. There were less Fatui in Sumeru since the regime of the previous Sages ended, but there was still trade and travel between them and Snezhnaya, so despite his instinctual wariness of the way they were armed, Cyno did not think much of the group when they moved publicly. Their openness had only hidden the gunner tucked away in the rocks, however, and the first shot that grazed past his dominant hand only set the tone for the brutal fight that followed.
Cyno was used to fights not in his favor, and he knew he took people down with him, but ultimately, he succumbed to being outnumbered, and he woke up here, with Azar of all people gloating in his face and a pyromancer watching him carefully from the doorway.
He knew that Azar didn’t take kindly to exile, as soft as a punishment it was. Cyno didn’t begrudge Nahida’s wisdom, in that it would be worse for overall morale if their previous leader was swiftly imprisoned, but clearly it didn’t stop him from continuing his schemes. He shouldn’t have anything of value to offer the Fatui for more nefarious deals, nothing that Dottore didn’t regrettably already have, but their partnership was undeniable.
Fruitlessly, Cyno pulled at the chains, stubbornly trying to make them budge or see if they have loosened. All it did was pull at his injuries, making his vision threaten to white out as droplets of blood spilled to the floor from the wound that couldn’t properly start to close up with a manacle in the way.
“Those were forged with the might of gods in mind,” Azar bragged, so Cyno had at least succeeded into getting him to talk more. Not that that was hard. “It can hold you and Hermanubis both without difficulty.”
Unfortunately, Cyno could see the truth to the statement. His Vision and Hermanubis’ power combined had not done more than rattle them and leave him feeling drained and exhausted, after his first attempt. Azar clearly enjoyed it far too much.
Cyno had always disliked him, but his opinion of the man got exponentially worse over time, and here he thought it had peaked when he discovered what the former Grand Sage had done to Nahida and planned to do alongside Dottore.
“You planned this,” Cyno stated. This trap and these chains were meant for him specifically, and Cyno didn’t like the implications at all. Not with Azar and the Fatui working alongside each other. Azar had too much pride for petty revenge without something tangible he would receive from it, which meant there was something in this for him—and the Fatui, for that matter. Cyno had more enemies than he could count, and many of them didn’t care about the fallout. He was a public figure, and his absence would be missed, and even if it was…too late, people would seek out who felled him. For such a large, political entity to go forward with this anyway meant that it was worth it to them.
This was bigger than just him. He just needed Azar to spill.
Fortunately, Azar loved to hear the sound of his own voice. “Of course it was, Cyno. I would never participate in anything halfway.”
“I didn’t think you would become a lackey, either,” Cyno pressed, aiming to upset him.
“Watch your tongue!” he hissed angrily, Cyno’s jab working a bit too well when Azar felt confident enough to slap him, of all things. His strike was weak, compared to the hits Cyno could take, but it landed on a place that Cyno was sure was already bruising, so it stung a little bit. Not that Cyno would give Azar the satisfaction of reacting.
“This is a massive undertaking, and it would be foolish to believe any part could be done alone,” Azar remarked once he resumed appearing collected. “You may think me a megalomaniac, but I am a visionary, and I understand the necessity of teamwork. I am but a single man in all of Teyvat, after all.”
All of Teyvat… Azar didn’t care about Teyvat. He cared about Sumeru and his seat of power there, under the guise of wisdom. Cyno didn’t like this one bit.
“And, what? Sacrificing me is part of your vision?” Cyno goaded dryly, trying not to feel too nervous about the sentiment. They wanted him alive and detained, in a location like this, and coupled with Azar’s comments about him not making out of this alive… Sadly this was not a scenario only found in light novels. Cyno was only human, but he was also the avatar of Hermanubis, and that could provide such a ritual with the power they desired. The death of a god brought terraforming destruction, and though Hermanubis himself was also dead, it could still be impactful.
“Perhaps so, but as I said, that is not your concern. Worry not, though, Cyno. You will not die so soon.”
Did Azar mean that as a threat? “Are you not prepared or something?”
Provoking him into doing something sooner was… not wise, but at the same time, something wasn’t adding up. Did they just mean to make him suffer first? It would work, although Cyno would never let it show. Already his entire body ached with strain, and his injuries would only worsen if not treated. Breathing was also difficult, in this position… However, waiting meant more time to get out, or to be discovered, and more of a chance for whatever ritual they wanted to not happen. Plus, he wouldn’t die. Cyno understood the risks of his profession, but despite Tighnari’s frequent worry-fueled jabs, he did not, in fact, want to die.
Azar scoffed. “If you think us too impatient, then don’t. You have arrived at the time required of you. After all, in order to adequately prepare the next pieces of this plan, your absence will provide a suitable distraction.”
Ah. There was the source of the bad feeling. Cold settled into his gut with the realization. “I’m bait.”
The matra would be concerned with his disappearance, when he was due back in the city early tomorrow, and they would divert attention to look into it. Other prominent people might focus on him as well, or at least let their concern be distracting. Nahida might be able to locate him immediately using the mental link he established with her, but as deep into the desert as he suspected they were, that could be hit or miss; either option could be bad, if this was the outcome they desired.
Azar smiled mockingly as he turned to walk away. “The era of the divine shall be over soon, Cyno. It is unfortunate for you that you sided with that excuse for a god.”