Work Text:
“And with this, I end my turn.” Cyno crossed his arms. “Your move.”
“Hah. Right.” Aether peeked at his hand. “My… turn.”
“…Paimon doesn’t get it. Do you?”
“Sure do.” He didn’t. He’d won his past matches with pure luck. Swordplay? “Easy.” Genius Invokation TCG? Impossible.
Cyno nodded to the hourglass. “Time is ticking.”
“Prepare yourself.” He raised his card. “I summon—”
A gust of wind swept it into the oven.
Gasping, Cyno dashed to the fire. Forlorn, he reported, “Nothing but ashes.”
“Wow. Right when I was winning.” Aether wiped the traces of anemo from his sleeve. “How unfortunate.”