Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

January 9, 6014

Smoke.

Fire.

Fetor.

Screams.

Death.

Never in his life had Hu Lian witnessed devastation like this. Nearly fifteen years as Director, over twenty years alongside his father presiding over matters of life and death—yet standing before an entire village being erased from existence, watching nightmare become reality, he felt true terror grip his heart.

Terror at the devastating power of death he'd thought familiar in his palm.

Terror at how fragile and fleeting human life truly was—some had died without even knowing death had come for them, let alone having time to evacuate.

Terror that somewhere in this world existed someone cruel and powerful enough to orchestrate all of this.

"Lian'er!"

His father's voice cut through the chaos, urgent and strained, each syllable betraying the effort to maintain composure. Hu Lian immediately adjusted his glasses and turned toward the sound.

"Father!"

Hu Ju's eyes blazed like twin pyres, the flower-shaped pupils burning with crimson light as he addressed both his son and the assembled Millelith officers.

"No more hesitation! You take the Vision-bearing soldiers into the village. Anyone you pull out, immediately purge them of fetor. Stay away from the village shrine no matter what!"

Without waiting for acknowledgment, the elder man spun on his heel and plunged into the wall of black smoke. Hu Lian's throat constricted with the urge to call after his father, but he swallowed it down. When Hu Ju made a decision, there was no stopping him—and right now, lives mattered more than a few unspoken concerns.

The younger Director raised his torch high, eyes scanning through the roiling smoke. Wind gathered in his palm, Anemo energy coalescing as he swept aside fog and flame to carve a path forward.

"Those without Visions, remain here to aid and protect any survivors we bring out. The rest—with me!"

“Roger!!”

The acrid stench of fetor burned his nostrils as they pushed deeper into the village. Houses that had stood for generations were now skeletal remains, their wooden frames twisted into grotesque shapes by unnatural fire. The ground itself seemed tainted, each step releasing wisps of black miasma that clung to their boots.

The Millelith moved with practiced efficiency, their Visions glowing as elemental energy resisted fetor from eroding them. These weren't green recruits—each soldier had been handpicked to combat disastrous contamination of this scale. Their formation never wavered despite the hellscape surrounding them.

"Eastern sector, three units!" Hu Lian commanded, wind swirling around his form. "Western sector, two units! Establish purification zones every fifty meters!"

"Understood!" The response came in perfect unison, soldiers splitting off without hesitation. Geo Vision holders immediately began raising stone platforms clear of the tainted ground, while Hydro users prepared cleansing stations.

They found the first bodies near what had been the market square. A family of four, huddled together, their faces frozen in expressions of confusion rather than fear. They hadn't even had time to understand what was killing them.

"Purification team, here!" Hu Lian called out, already beginning the rites. His hands glowed with gentle green light as Anemo energy mixed with sacred arts. Two Pyro Vision holders flanked him, their flames burning away the lingering fetor with surgical precision.

"Director Hu!" A voice called from the eastern district. "We've got survivors trapped under a collapsed roof! Requesting immediate assistance!"

"Captain Chen, take your unit," Hu Lian ordered without looking up from his work. "Extract and evacuate. Don't let anyone including yourself breathe this air longer than necessary."

"Affirmative!"

As if in response to his words, a weak cry echoed from a collapsed building nearby. The team rushed toward it, Hu Lian's wind clearing a path through the choking smoke. There—a hand protruding from beneath fallen beams, fingers twitching weakly.

"Help me lift this!"

“Yes Sir!”

Two Geo Vision users stepped forward, stone pillars rising to brace the debris as they carefully extracted the survivor—a young boy, perhaps eight years old, his breath coming in rattled gasps.

Hu Lian immediately began channeling healing wind, but the fetor had already taken root too deeply. Black veins spider-webbed across the child's skin, pulsing with each labored heartbeat.

"M-Mister," the boy's voice was barely a whisper. "The bad man... he came from nowhere... Mom and Dad tried to run but..."

"Shh, save your strength." But even as Hu Lian poured more energy into the young child, he knew it was futile. The fetor was like nothing he'd encountered before—aggressive, almost sentient in its hunger.

The boy's eyes, wide with incomprehension, fixed on something beyond Hu Lian's shoulder. "Mom...?"

And then, nothing.

Hu Lian closed the child's eyes with trembling fingers. Another young life lost. Another family destroyed. This wasn’t fair! How many more would they find like this?!

BOOM!

Suddenly, tremendous explosion rocked the ground, crimson-black energy erupting from the direction of the village shrine. The shockwave knocked several soldiers off their feet, and for a moment, Hu Lian's heart stopped.

"Father..."

“Secret of the flame!

Blessing of Homa…!”

But then, cutting through the chaos like a blade of pure will, came Hu Ju's voice—not calling for help, but roaring an incantation in the iron tongue. The fetor in the air seemed to recoil, pulling back toward its source as if being forcibly contained.

"He's binding it," Hu Lian breathed, relief and worry warring in his chest. "Continue the search! We may not have much time before—"

Another voice, high and terrified, pierced the air from the northern section of the village.

"HELP! SOMEONE PLEASE! HE'S NOT BREATHING! BIG G! PLEASE DON'T—!"

Hu Lian's head snapped toward the sound. A survivor—and from the desperation in that cry, someone watching another die. Without hesitation, he launched himself in that direction, wind carrying him over the rubble-strewn streets.

The smoke grew thicker as he approached what had been the residential district. Here, the destruction was more selective—some houses stood untouched while others were reduced to ash, as if death itself had been choosing victims with deliberate cruelty.

"Hold on!" Hu Lian called out. "We're coming!"

The voice that answered was broken by sobs. "Please... please help him... I can't... I can't feel his heartbeat anymore..."

Hu Lian burst through the smoke with two Millelith soldiers flanking him. The scene that greeted them made his breath catch.

A boy, perhaps ten years old-about his daughter’s age, knelt in the ash-covered street, cradling another child against his chest. The one being held—Big G, the voice had called him—lay unnaturally still. No black veins marked his skin from fetor poisoning. Instead, his flesh had taken on a grayish pallor, limbs hanging boneless like a rag doll.

Hu Lian's eyes swept the immediate area, landing on what had once been a house. Now only rubble remained, wooden beams scattered like broken bones. Understanding hit him like a physical blow. The boy hadn't died from fetor—he'd been crushed when the structure collapsed.

"Big G! Goulang!" The kneeling boy shook his friend desperately. "It's me! Meng! You have to wake up! Don't die!"

"Young boy!" Hu Lian dropped to one knee beside them, keeping his voice gentle despite the urgency. "I'll save your friend. But you need to go with this Millelith soldier to safety—hurry!"

The boy named Meng didn't acknowledge him. Whether he couldn't hear through his grief or simply refused to listen to what he knew were empty reassurances, Hu Lian couldn't tell. But then Meng's expression shifted.

The tears still fell, but his young face hardened into something that made Hu Lian's blood run cold. The boy's jaw clenched tight enough to crack teeth. His small hands, white-knuckled around his friend's torn shirt, slowly loosened their grip.

"I swear... right here and now…" The child's voice came out steady, each word deliberate and sharp as broken glass. "I'll kill it! Whatever did this! I'll avenge you... avenge our parents... avenge every single person in Yuelin Village it murdered!" His eyes never left his friend's still face. "I promise you, Goulang."

The dying boy's chest rose once more—a shallow, rattling breath—then nothing.

Meng wiped his tears with mechanical precision, then stood and walked toward the waiting Millelith soldier without prompting. No more sobs. No childish wailing. Just cold, purposeful movement.

Hu Lian watched the boy go, unease coiling in his gut like a living thing. That reaction... that voice... The child couldn't be much older than ten, he realized with a jolt. Those weren't the words of a traumatized ten-year-old. Children that age might scream about revenge in their grief, might make wild promises they'd forget by morning. But that measured tone, that calculated grief—He'd heard that voice before. In adults who'd lost everything and found purpose in their hatred. In people who'd crossed lines they could never uncross.

Should I go after him? Have someone watch—

"Director Hu!" The second Millelith soldier's urgent call shattered his thoughts. "The fetor concentration to the west—it's spiking dangerously!"

"Right!" Hu Lian shook off his misgivings. Whatever was wrong with that boy would have to wait. The living needed him now. "I'm on it!"

Wind gathered around him as he launched toward the new threat, leaving behind the too-composed child and his dead friend. In the chaos of rescue and purification, in the desperate race against death itself, one small boy's unusual grief would slip through the cracks of memory.

Until when it would return to haunt them all.

Chapter Text

March 2, 6024

Liyue Harbor stretched out beneath the light of dawn, small boats visibly drifting leisurely across the still water. Darion stood at the edge of a cliff overlooking the harbor, the morning light of the city reflecting in his amber eyes but leaving no warmth. Paimon hovered beside him, her hand resting on her cheek, her gaze filled with concern.

"Um... Aether... I mean, Darion?" she called softly, her voice slightly awkward.

"It's alright, Paimon. When no one's around, you can call me by my real name," Darion replied, his voice calm and steady, eyes still fixed on the distant horizon. A slight smirk played across his lips, self-mockery evident in his expression. "Aether. Pleased to meet you."

Paimon's eyes widened for a moment before she giggled as if she'd been given permission to cheat. She flew in a small circle around Darion, arms crossed over her chest, nodding with satisfaction.

"Well then... Hello, Aether! Paimon is Paimon—but, Paimon is already used to calling you Darion. Maybe Paimon should just keep it that way to avoid confusion!"

Darion didn't answer immediately. He simply exhaled softly, his gaze still following the small boats drifting in the bay. Liyue Harbor reflected brilliantly in his golden eyes, yet he seemed more distant from its light than ever before.

Paimon fell silent for a moment, then gathered her courage to speak. Her eyes looked at him with worry, her voice gentle but serious.

"Are you okay? Paimon didn't expect your sister to be with the 'Abyss'..."

Darion remained silent, the sea breeze passing through his hair. His gaze didn't waver, but his right hand tightened slightly into a fist.

"I'm... perhaps a little better now," he said, his voice deep, as if speaking more to himself than to her.

Paimon placed her hands on her cheeks, then floated a bit higher, trying to inject some positive energy.

"Cheer up, Traveler! Paimon believes in you, and in her too. The more difficult things seem, the more we can't stop moving forward, right?"

Darion tilted his head slightly to look at Paimon, his lips barely moving before a faint smile appeared—very slight, but genuine.

"Thank you, Paimon. I don't know what I'd do without you by my side."

Paimon put her hands on her hips, puffing her cheeks as if trying to play the role of an authoritative "motivational advisor."

"And when things get tough, the strong have to try even harder! Right?"

Darion fell silent for a moment, eyes looking down at the ground, then slowly nodded.

"Yes. We can't stop here."

Paimon clapped her hands together, her eyes lighting up as if she'd just thought of something important.

"She said you had to 'go to the end of the journey.' There must be so much more she didn't tell us!"

Darion looked down at the deep black sea, his voice lower, but still clear.

"And we'll never know what that journey is, or where it ends... if we don't keep walking."

He lowered his eyes slightly, momentarily, a thought flashed through his mind—a fear he had never dared to vocalize.

Paimon maintained her cheerful demeanor, but her eyes flashed with understanding. She shook her head slightly, floating in front of Darion.

"That's more like it! So... where do we go next?"

Darion remained silent, his eyes narrowing slightly. He turned around, his golden eyes flashing with determination.

"I still need to find that god."

Paimon blinked a few times, her head tilting slightly to one side, as if she had just connected a thought in her head.

"Oh! You mean the god who separated the two of you in the first place...?"

Darion tightened his fist slightly, his fingers trembled, but he quickly regained control of his emotions. His golden eyes darkened slightly, his voice remaining steady but concealing a barely perceptible tremor.

"She started all of this. Everything that happened afterward... all this chaos... it all originated with her."

For just a moment, Darion's face flashed with anger mixed with torment, but he quickly turned away, his gaze avoiding the horizon.

Paimon floated closer, her eyes no longer playful, replaced by clear contemplation.

"Hmm... Paimon thinks that god is the key to solving all of this. Sooner or later, we'll have to find her."

Darion nodded slightly, but a trace of hesitation remained in his eyes.

"But first... we need to find a way to Inazuma. Zhongli said we can't get there by normal means."

Each word he spoke carried a heavy feeling—not because he didn't know what to do, but because he understood that sooner or later, he would have to face the truth he had always wanted to avoid.

Paimon suddenly snapped her fingers, her eyes lighting up, as if she had just thought of something perfectly logical.

"Ah! Paimon has an idea! Atsuko! She's from Inazuma, she might know something!"

Paimon excitedly flew ahead, toward Liyue Harbor. Darion stood still for a moment, his eyes still following the horizon. A faint uncertainty appeared on his face.

He exhaled softly, following Paimon, but his steps were slower—his mind trapped elsewhere.

The Liyue docks bustled with cargo ships coming into port, the sound of commerce echoing throughout the space. Fishermen, merchants, and sailors were busy with their work, while the pungent smell of sea salt blended with every breeze blowing in from the open water.

Amid the crowded flow of people, a young woman with short, dark brown hair stood by a merchant stall, carefully counting mora coins into the weathered palm of a fruit vendor. Her movements were precise but hesitant, like someone still learning the proper way to haggle in a foreign market.

She noticed Darion and Paimon approaching, her face immediately brightened with genuine warmth. She quickly finished her transaction and hurried toward them, nearly tripping over a coil of rope in her eagerness.

"Traveler-san! Paimon-san!" Atsuko called out, her Inazuman accent still coloring her Liyue dialect. "What perfect timing! I was hoping to run into you again."

She bowed with utmost respect, a habit from her homeland that drew curious glances from passing locals. "I never properly thanked you for helping me find job at the docks. Clerk Zhao even says I'm the most careful cargo inspector he's ever hired." A slight blush colored her cheeks. "Though I think he's just being kind."

Paimon zipped forward, hands on her hips, practically vibrating with excitement. "Atsuko! Actually, we came looking for your help!"

"Oh?" Atsuko's eyebrows rose, her hand instinctively moving to smooth down her work-worn tunic. "How can I help? After everything you've done for me, I'd be happy to return the favor if I can."

Paimon glanced at Darion before blurting out, "You're from Inazuma, right? Do you know how we can get there?"

The warmth in Atsuko's expression flickered like a candle in sudden wind. Her eyes darted around the busy dock, checking for eavesdroppers among the sailors and merchants. She stepped closer, lowering her voice.

"Ah... I should have guessed." She worried her bottom lip between her teeth. "You helped me when I had nothing, so I'll tell you what I know. But listen, you two..." She met Darion's eyes directly. "The path to Inazuma is nothing like the bustling roads between Mondstadt and Liyue. You don’t get in and out of the nation easily."

Paimon faltered, her eyes blinking as if she couldn't believe her ears.

"Huh? Then how did you get out of Inazuma?"

Atsuko bit her lip slightly, her eyes distant as if recalling the past.

"When I left Inazuma... that's when I realized how dangerous my method was."

Her gaze dropped to the weathered planks beneath their feet, studying the grain patterns as she gathered her thoughts. "I had nothing but a raft I'd cobbled together from driftwood and fishing nets. When I pushed off from shore that night..." Her voice caught, and she had to swallow before continuing. "The storm was already visible on the horizon, wall of violet clouds and thunder. Behind me, I could hear the Tenryou Commission soldiers shouting, their footsteps getting closer.”

A strange, bitter smile crossed her face. "You know what? For one insane moment, I actually thanked that storm. The soldiers stopped at the shoreline—I could see them chuckling, pointing at the waves. They probably figured the ocean would do their job for them." She let out a short laugh. "Why risk their lives chasing a fool who was sailing straight into death?"

She shifted her weight, arms wrapping around herself as if warding off a remembered chill. "The waves grew higher than buildings. My raft—it held together somehow, but barely. Days blurred into nights. The freshwater and rice balls I'd brought lasted maybe three days at most, those were the shortest three days I’ve ever lived.”

A bitter laugh escaped her. "I stopped being afraid of drowning. I was too exhausted, too empty. When I finally lost consciousness, I thought—well, at least the fish would eat well."

Darion's hand rested on his hip, golden eyes tracking every expression on her face. "Then someone from Liyue rescue you?"

"A fishing vessel." Atsuko's gaze lifted skyward, watching clouds drift peacefully overhead—such a contrast to her tale. "The fishers told me I was clutching a piece of driftwood, more dead than alive. They wrapped me in blankets and spooned broth between my cracked lips, and that was when I realized I won this deadly gamble."

Her hands unclenched slowly. "That kindness... after everything Inazuma had become..."

Paimon drooped as she listened, her usual energy dampened by the weight of the story. "What a horrible journey! Yet you still risked your life to leave? For what reason?"

The question hung in the salt-tinged air. Atsuko's jaw worked silently for a moment before she found her voice again. "Have you ever felt the walls closing in, even under open sky? In Inazuma now, every breath is regulated. The Sakoku Decree isn't just about keeping foreigners out—it's about keeping us in. The Kanjou Commission documents where you go, who you meet, what you say."

She rubbed her arms as if cold despite the warm harbor breeze. "My neighbors... they started reporting each other out of fear. You understand? When the Commission punishes 'disloyalty,' they don't stop at one person. So you report your neighbor's ‘suspicious’ actions before someone reports you for not reporting it."

Her voice dropped, words coming faster. "We all became prisoners guarding each other. Everyone too terrified to speak freely, too scared to trust. The higher-ups propagated they were enforcing the Shogun's 'eternity'—we couldn't understand it beyond keeping our heads down and surviving another day."

Atsuko's hand moved unconsciously to her hip, where a Vision might have hung. "Then came the decree that changed everything. They started hunting Visions, claiming they were obstacles to the Shogun's ideal. Taking away people's ambitions—"

"The ‘Vision Hunt Decree’?" Darion interjected, his expression sharpening. "I'd heard about it, but..."

"And it’s the painful reality." Atsuko's fingers clenched into fists. "That's when I knew I had to leave. Bad enough to live in fear, but to have your aspirations literally torn away? To watch neighbors dragged from their homes, their Visions ripped from them like severing a limb?" She shook her head violently. "I'd rather face the storm than surrender the last piece of myself that made me human."

She straightened suddenly, as if remembering where she was. The vulnerability in her expression hardened into something more resolute: hope. She hoped that her dreadful tales might be convincing enough for her friend to not step in the hell she escaped from. "I shouldn't speak ill of my homeland. But you need to understand—" Her eyes locked onto Darion's with fierce intensity. "That storm around Inazuma? It's nothing compared to what waits inside. Unless you have no other choice, unless someone's safety depends on it... please, reconsider."

The plea in her final words carried more weight than any of her warnings about waves and lightning.

Atsuko's tale still echoed across the busy Liyue dock, but for Darion, it gradually became muffled, heavy as a stone sinking into the still water of his mind.

He stood motionless, his golden eyes unwavering, but his hand tightened more and more.

Inazuma... Storms, danger, oppression... That's not a nation, that's hell, he thought.

Paimon hovered beside him, still maintaining her optimistic resolve. But that only made Darion's chest feel heavier.

She's counting on me. Always counting on me... But what if I can't do it?

A wave of anxiety suddenly rose within him, but he forced himself to stay calm, avoiding letting Paimon notice.

I wasn't strong enough to protect Lumine. What if I lose Paimon too?

Atsuko continued speaking, her tone steady but clearly still echoing the fear she had experienced. But Darion no longer heard each word clearly.

He narrowed his eyes slightly, nodding mechanically, but inside his mind was a completely different stream of thought.

No... We're not ready for this. Not enough. Staying here is safer. I can wait, plan carefully... There's no need to rush.

But when he thought of that, he felt a strange emptiness.

I need an excuse to step back.

That thought seemed wrong somehow, but he clung to it. Just needing a reasonable reason to delay, just needing something to hold onto, would make everything less frightening.

Darion took a deep breath, his voice still steady, but slightly distant.

"So... what's the safest way to get there?"

Atsuko sighed, shaking her head slightly, her eyes reflecting some weariness.

"Actually, we don't have many choices from the start."

She looked up at Darion, considering for a moment before continuing.

"Currently, the only method with a chance of success is to seek help from the Crux Fleet."

Paimon blinked in surprise, tilting her head.

"The Crux Fleet? Who?"

Atsuko nodded, crossing her arms, her eyes a bit sharper.

"They're a group of sailors with experience dealing with the most dangerous seas. If anyone can get you two to Inazuma, it's their captain—Beidou."

Paimon's eyes lit up, her hands clapping together with excitement.

"Oh! Paimon's heard that name before! Beidou is very famous!"

Darion narrowed his eyes slightly, but inside, his mind was already quickly turning in a different direction.

So this is the reasonable excuse.

An uncertain path. An unguaranteed opportunity. We can 'consider.' We can 'think about it.' We don't need to go right away.

Atsuko pointed toward the distance, out to sea.

"Right now, the Alcor, Beidou's flagship, is anchored near Guyun Stone Forest."

She emphasized, her eyes serious.

"If you two can convince her to help, that will be your best chance to reach Inazuma."

Darion considered each word he was about to say, keeping his tone steady.

"Thank you for the suggestion, Atsuko. We'll consider it."

Atsuko observed Darion for a moment, as if wanting to say something more, but finally just smiled gently.

"I hope you two make the right decision." She paused briefly, then added, "And... be careful."

The breeze from the sea carried the pungent smell of salt, blowing gently across the dock. The moored ships swayed with each wave, creating slight creaking sounds that blended with the distant laughter of sailors.

Darion walked slowly, his eyes still looking ahead, but his mind clearly elsewhere.

Paimon floated close beside him, her face showing no worry—only radiant determination.

"Paimon didn't expect our next step to be so difficult even before we begin!" she said with a bright smile, her voice as optimistic as ever. She pounded her chest confidently, her eyes shining. "But don't worry! Paimon will always be by your side! Beidou is our key—we should head to her ship right away!"

Darion shook his head slightly, his eyes flashing with a vague hesitation before turning decisively to Paimon.

Though his voice remained calm, there was an irresistible firmness in it.

"Paimon, I think... it's better if we don't go."

Paimon froze in midair, her small wings twitching slightly.

She blinked several times, looking at him with genuine surprise.

"Huh? What? What are we waiting for? Didn't you say we needed to get to Inazuma?"

Darion bowed his head slightly, his eyes darkening, as if weighing each word he was about to say.

His lips pressed together, but then he still spoke—his voice steady, but with something wrong hidden beneath the surface.

"We've heard what Atsuko said... She wasn't exaggerating."

He paused for a moment, his hand tightening slightly.

"Inazuma is too dangerous right now. If anything happened to you Paimon—or to me—then what?"

Paimon frowned, her eyes losing their usual playfulness.

"But Darion... if we don't take this chance, we might miss the only opportunity we've ever had to find the truth!" She emphasized, her eyes reflecting genuine concern. "Are you sure waiting will make things better?"

Darion didn't answer immediately. He frowned slightly, his eyes somewhat evasive, as if part of him wasn't certain about the answer either.

But then he exhaled softly, trying to regain his composure.

"If the time is right, we'll know. But no matter what, Paimon should remember that safety comes first."

Paimon remained silent, her small eyes still staring at him intently, trying to read Darion's thoughts.

"For now... let's focus on what's in front of us," he continued, his voice calmer.

He gave a very slight smile, as if trying to soothe her a bit.

"Besides, Liyue still has much to explore. Our journey has no deadline after all."

Paimon stared at him for a long time, as if trying to find something hidden in Darion's words.

Then she sighed, her eyes softening a bit.

"Paimon just doesn't want you to regret it later..." She paused for a beat, then nodded slightly. "But if this is your decision, then Paimon will trust you."

Darion’s eyes followed the distant, shimmering line where sea met sky—yet the horizon seemed further away than ever.

"I'm sure. We'll always be fine as long as we're prepared."

He paused a bit, his voice softer but warmer.

"...Thank you, Paimon. For always being by my side."

Paimon pouted slightly, crossing her arms.

"Okay, let's see..." She turned to Darion, her voice full of energy again. "Let's look at the map and decide where we should go next!"

Darion smiled faintly, taking out the map, his eyes reflecting some tranquility.

"Alright."

Paimon floated forward, her small wings beating more slowly than before. She was no longer excitedly gliding ahead as at first, but the optimism had not completely disappeared.

Darion walked more slowly, his steps becoming heavier. His eyes still directed toward the horizon, but in his heart, a different feeling was pulling him back.

Paimon glanced at Darion for a moment, as if sensing the lingering hesitation within him.

The busy port gradually disappeared behind them, giving way to a quieter path. The sound of waves breaking against the shore became distant, leaving only the gentle sound of water flowing beside them.

The two passed by a quiet riverbank, where the early morning light cast a warm golden glow on the water's surface, creating shimmering ripples like slices of the past.

Darion stopped, looking toward the river.

"Paimon, keep checking the map. I'll be right back."

Paimon was busy flipping through the map, her head tilted slightly to one side, but still waved her hand as if not paying much attention.

"Alright! But don't take too long, there's still a lot to explore!"

Darion didn't answer immediately, just nodded slightly, then walked further away.

He knelt by the water's edge, his hands touching the cold river.

Darion scooped water onto his face, but his movements were slow and lifeless, as if he were trying to pull himself out of some exhausting trance.

He didn't look at Paimon, didn't look around—only his eyes reflected in the water.

Lumine... I should have caught up with you sooner... I should have acted immediately... But instead, what have I done?

The water rippled gently, but the reflection in it was distorted, as if even he could no longer recognize himself.

Darion's fingers dug into the earth, his palm pressing down on the damp sand, feeling a silent ache.

You said we always have time... But all I've done... is waste it. I'm wasting it again, aren't I?

His hand tightened, his shoulders trembling slightly.

No one was around to see him lose control a little.

Darion clenched his fist, his eyes darkening, but his lips still couldn't form words.

I know I've chosen wrong, but I can't... His inner voice trembled slightly from suppression. Then, after a pause, he continued, his voice more choked, Lumine... You're all I have left, but what if this journey leads me to a place where I can't find you?

The water was no longer clear. It rippled strangely, just like his anxiety reflecting back at him.

He clenched his teeth, his chest tightening uncomfortably, as if each breath was becoming a battle.

Why... Why am I like this? His inner voice was filled with self-hatred. His shoulders trembled slightly, his eyes closing a bit. Too weak! Too slow! Too afraid! Damn it!

A tear struck the water's surface, ripples distorting his reflection into something unrecognizable.

"I can't catch up to you, Lumine." The words scraped raw from his throat, meant for no one. "So you don't need me anymore, do you?"

His knuckles whitened as he gripped the earth, desperate for something solid while everything inside him crumbled. The pain built like pressure behind his ribs, threatening to crack his chest open—

Hold on… What was I just thinking?

The thought came sharp and sudden. His breathing hitched.

I can't—I can't keep doing this.

Because if he kept drowning in this guilt, he'd never move again. Never search. Never find her. The weight would pin him here forever, useless and paralyzed by his own inadequacy.

What if that's what she wants?

The thought slithered in sideways, offering a different kind of pain. An easier pain.

His jaw clenched. Right. She told him to explore this world, didn’t she? Take his time. As if his journey to understand her “truth about this world” mattered more than reuniting with the only family he had left. As if—

As if she didn't want me to follow.

His breath came quicker now. The mud beneath his fingers felt less like an anchor and more like shackles. Memories flickered: Stormterror's winds tearing through Mondstadt's streets, merchants' stalls destroyed, children crying in terror. The elderly man buried beneath rubble near the cathedral—they'd pulled him out too late. Osial rising from the depths, huge waves crashing into the shore. The young Millelith soldier who protected civilians from the crossfire with his own body, blood staining the dock red. Who was responsible for all those treacheries?

"Lumine... You chose them. You lead them." The words tasted bitter. "And you did all of this."

The pain in his chest twisted, reshaping itself into something harder. Something that didn't make him feel so pathetically...

Coward.

"She knew what they were doing. She had to." His voice grew steadier, colder. "Every destroyed home, every family torn apart, every drop of innocent blood spilled—she could have stopped it. But she didn't."

The grief was still there, crushing and absolute. But anger... anger gave him something to push against. Anger didn't make him weak this time.

"Princess of the Abyss Order." He spat the title like poison. "That's what you chose to become. Not my sister.”

Then why am I crumbling for a traitor?

His reflection in the water showed eyes gone hard and sharp as amber stone. Good. Much better this than the broken thing he'd been moments before.

"And now you expect me to follow the path you've laid out?" He pushed himself upright, water dripping from his hands. "I'm nobody's puppet—not even yours, Lumine."

Especially not yours.

The name felt wrong in his mouth now. Too familiar. Too gentle. Too kind for what she'd become. His sister was gone, replaced by something that allowed, no, commanded monsters and brought suffering to innocent people. He couldn't afford to see her any other way.

Not if he wanted to overcome this.

"If this journey can't bring you back to me..." His voice dropped to something hollow and final. "Then I don't need to be on it anymore."

The wind picked up, carrying the scent of river grass and distant rain. In his chest, something fundamental shifted and locked into place. A wall between who he'd been and who he needed to become.

Aether would always love his sister no matter what.

But Darion couldn't afford to trust a demon princess.

The stillness by the river was broken by a familiar voice calling from afar.

"Hey, Darion! Are you ready? Paimon thinks she found something interesting on the map!"

Darion startled, as if pulled out of the emotional wave threatening to drown him.

He straightened up, his hand hurriedly wiping across his face, as if wanting to erase any trace of the turmoil within him.

His eyes still showed a hint of confusion, but in an instant, Darion's expression regained its composure.

Paimon can't see me like this.

He looked down at the river one last time, his eyes containing something unnameable.

His jaw tightened slightly, but in just one breath, he inhaled deeply, extinguishing all traces of his previous emotions.

His steps became slow but more determined as he turned to leave.

Paimon was still hovering above the map, completely oblivious to Darion's recent turmoil.

When Darion stepped closer, she looked up at him with a bright smile.

"Look! We haven't explored this area yet! It's called Wuwang Hill!"

Darion looked down at the map, his eyes scanning the marked location.

"Wuwang Hill? Isn't that area usually avoided by people? I heard from the Adventurers' Guild that there was some terrible calamity there years ago."

Paimon nodded firmly, her arms crossed over her chest.

"That's right, but Paimon heard that Wuwang Hill hides many strange things. Who knows what valuable treasures might be up there?"

She emphasized, her voice full of enthusiasm.

"Isn't that exactly where we should be looking?"

Darion paused for a moment, his eyes showing a hint of thought, but then he nodded slightly.

"Alright. It doesn't hurt to take a look."

Paimon launched herself higher, flying ahead with an excited demeanor.

"That's the spirit!"

But while Paimon excitedly flew ahead, Darion stepped more slowly, as if his mind was still troubled.

The sound of footsteps crunching on the gravel path blended with Paimon's soft humming of a small melody.

The river behind gradually faded away, giving way to a small path leading into the dark density of the forest. In Paimon's map, a path was marked to Wuwang Hill. The shadows of the two figures dimmed among the interwoven tree trunks.

The frame darkened, giving way to a mysterious silence.

Darion walked alongside Paimon—outwardly, he stepped into a new journey, but inside, he had yet to escape the binding of himself.

The atmosphere grew more somber as Darion and Paimon ventured deeper into Wuwang Hill, the world around them transforming with each careful step. Here, reality seemed to blur at the edges, memories and present intermingling like watercolors bleeding into one another.

Thick fog swallowed every faint ray from the setting sun, devouring light with an insatiable hunger. Gone was the bustling rhythm of Liyue that had once filled Darion's senses, replaced by a silence so heavy it seemed to press against his skin. This profound stillness was only occasionally fractured by distant, indecipherable rustling sounds that whispered from the shadows like secrets being exchanged.

Paimon floated closer to Darion, her earlier bravado having evaporated like morning dew. Her small form trembled slightly, a fragile star navigating through a sea of endless fog.

"Ugh... why did Paimon think this was a good idea...?" she mumbled, her voice trembling slightly, arms wrapped around herself as if seeking warmth in this place of eternal chill. "This place gives Paimon goosebumps..."

The space around them grew increasingly still, as if all sound had been drawn from the air, creating a vacuum of sensation that made even breathing feel like an intrusion upon sacred ground.

Darion slowed his pace, golden eyes sweeping across the fog-shrouded landscape. As he gazed into the mist, old thoughts surfaced from the depths of his consciousness, like shipwrecks revealed at low tide.

Silence. Depth. Like the stillness of home. Now I'm the only one left.

He raised his head, looking into the fog enveloping him as it wrapped around his form like a funeral shroud. His eyes had emptied of emotion, windows looking not outward but inward, toward a past so distant it had begun to fade like an old tapestry. His lips curled into a faint smile, a gesture that never reached his eyes, which remained like ashes after a fire has long been extinguished.

A perfect mirror. It's welcoming me. Perhaps here... I might feel a little... peace.

The heavy air was suddenly pierced by Paimon's worried voice, a small bell ringing in a forgotten cathedral.

"Maybe... we should go back!" she exclaimed, breaking the silence, her voice rippling through the stillness like a stone cast into a still pond. "Paimon's sure there are still many other places to explore—somewhere a little less creepy!"

Darion glanced at her, one eyebrow arched slightly, his voice slow but tinged with gentle mockery, like honey mixed with salt.

"Go back? That doesn't sound like Paimon at all."

He looked at her, a rare flicker of amusement dancing in his eyes like the first star appearing at dusk.

"Didn't Paimon just say this was the perfect place to find treasure? Or is Paimon afraid now?"

Paimon crossed her arms over her chest, chin raised proudly, though a tremor betrayed her, like a leaf trying to remain still in a breeze.

"Paimon is not afraid!" she protested immediately, her voice climbing higher like a bird seeking safety. "Paimon is just... concerned for your safety!"

Darion's lips curled into a faint smile, the corner of his mouth lifting in a subtle grin. For even if Paimon's first statement was a clumsy lie, perhaps her second was true. His true little sister, not by blood, but by a bond that transcended the very one ripped off him.

"Oh? If it's for my safety, then Paimon should come with me, right?"

He looked into the misty fog, his voice gentling like a stream finding its way to calmer waters.

"Let's continue. Paimon wouldn't want to leave me alone in a place like this, would she?"

Paimon looked around again, the eerie atmosphere making her instinctively swallow, her small throat working visibly.

"But... this is exactly how many horror stories begin!" she muttered anxiously, her imagination clearly painting vivid horrors in the blank canvas of fog.

She glanced around, her voice dropping to a dramatic whisper that seemed to shiver in the air.

"A desolate, scary place, weak light, everything too quiet..."

Her eyes darted quickly, like prey sensing a predator, her voice trembling more intensely with each word.

"And then... when you least expect it... a stranger steps out from the shadows and—"

There were footsteps.

A dim figure appeared in the fog, materializing like a specter from another world. Its trembling voice cut through the mist:

"W-who... who are you?"

Paimon froze on the spot, suspended in air like a painting of fear itself, and then...

“WAAHH!!!”

She screamed in terror, her small body staggering backward in panic, tiny hands flailing as if trying to push away the very air around her.

"Darion! Do something!!!"

Darion raised an eyebrow, staring at her with an incredibly calm expression, unmoved as a mountain facing a summer storm.

"Didn't Paimon just say she was concerned for my safety?"

Paimon quickly hid behind Darion's back, peeking over his shoulder like a child hiding from thunder, pointing toward the mysterious figure in panic.

"Paimon is sure! Anyone we meet in this place won't be normal! He's definitely going to... going to... eat Paimon!!!"

As the figure drew closer, Darion could make out a young man emerging from the mist. He was slender, dressed in the somber attire of what appeared to be an undertaker's uniform that reminded Darion of Zhongli's attire—a long, elegant dark coat with intricate gold embroidery along its edges. His face was pale, as if rarely touched by sunlight, with sharp features framed by a goatee beneath his chin and short dark hair that fell neatly across his forehead. The man's eyes were wide with apprehension, darting nervously between Darion and Paimon as if they were apparitions rather than adventurers.

The stranger's whole body trembled, fingers clutching desperately at his coat sleeves. Even from several paces away, Darion could see the man's knees knocking together beneath his formal attire.

This one's practically shaking himself apart, Darion realized, a familiar sensation stirring in his chest. The corner of his mouth twitched. What a pokable scaredy cat.

He looked down at the stranger, a rare spark of playfulness illuminating his golden eyes like sunlight breaking through storm clouds.

"Ahem. Mortal, born of earthly realm. Consider this a great honor, to be graced by one who descends from beyond the celestial realm," he said slowly but with great authority, deliberately emphasizing each word as if judging a mundane being.

The young man stared at Darion with wide eyes, clearly not knowing how to react, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of his coat's sleeve.

"'Beyond the celestial realm'? This way of speaking... how strange..."

Paimon blinked a bit, but quickly caught on to Darion's intention, her quick mind always ready to join in mischief despite her fear.

She flew forward, matching Darion's dramatic tone, crossing her arms across her chest with an air of authority, her earlier terror transformed into theatrical grandeur.

"That's right! And Paimon is the supreme overseer watching over him! If you don't behave, the consequences will be terrible!"

The stranger stepped back, his eyes filled with tension, clearly believing this ruse, his shoulders hunching as if attempting to make himself smaller.

"A-Ah!! Don't frighten me like that! I'm just here to perform a ritual, I mean no offense! No matter who you are, there's no need for ill will!"

Paimon tilted her head, glancing at the trembling man suspiciously, then turned back to Darion, a conspirator sharing a secret.

She shrugged slightly, her eyes twinkling with newfound mischief, fear apparently forgotten in the face of someone more afraid than herself.

"Phew, it seems like he's even more terrified than Paimon."

Darion assessed the young man from top to bottom, noting his formal attire and nervous demeanor, the corner of his mouth curling up like a page turning in a book of subtle emotions.

"I think our performance was quite good. Don't you think so, Paimon?"

Paimon flew up a bit higher, crossing her arms with a radiant smile that brightened the gloomy atmosphere.

"Yep, yep! But now, Paimon will handle the introductions."

Paimon gently floated closer to the stranger, her voice softening like a breeze gentling after a storm, without the teasing tone from before.

"Don't be afraid. We were just joking. We come with good intentions."

The young man opened his mouth to say something, his expression shifting from fear to cautious relief, but then...

He jumped back, terror returning to his features in an instant, hands raised as if warding off evil spirits.

"Aaaah! May Rex Lapis protect me!"

Darion sighed, clearly tired of the excessive reaction, patience wearing thin as fog in morning sunlight.

"No, no, no! Stop panicking! Stand still! Calm down!"

The frightened man took a deep breath, nodding continuously, but still appearing extremely tense, his entire body quivering like a leaf in autumn wind.

"'Calm'?! Y-Yes! Whatever you say! Please spare my life!"

He raised his hands, carefully stepping further back, eyes never leaving Darion's face as if watching for any sudden movement.

"I didn't mean to bother you! Don't touch me! Director! HELP ME!!"

Paimon exhaled sharply, crossing her arms, clearly impatient, her small foot tapping in mid-air.

"Hey! Paimon said nothing's going to happen!"

But the young man showed no sign of calming down—he turned and ran, his footsteps echoing into the foggy mist ahead, each desperate step fading like the last notes of a chaotic song.

“Heh…”

Darion watched the retreating figure disappear into the fog, and a sound escaped him—soft, barely there, but unmistakably a chuckle. His shoulders shook once, twice, before he caught himself.

“Haha…”

Paimon whipped around to stare at him, eyes wide as dinner plates. "Wait... Darion, did you just laugh?!" Her expression shifted from shock to something softer. "Paimon hasn't heard you laugh since... since we left that place."

Darion glanced at her, his face settling back into its usual calm, though the corner of his mouth betrayed him with the slightest upward curl. "Perhaps it's because Paimon synchronized so well with me." He paused, golden eyes already tracking the path the stranger had taken. "Or maybe it's thanks to that scaredy cat."

"Should we follow him?" Paimon asked, already floating in that direction. "He looked pretty scared—what if he trips and hurts himself in this fog?"

"My thoughts exactly." Darion's tone remained light, but his gaze sharpened as he studied the mist where the man had vanished. Something nagged at him—not about the stranger's behavior, which seemed genuine enough, but his intuition was telling him: go. A lone undertaker, here in Wuwang Hill, just as they arrived? His paranoia might be getting the better of him, but after everything with Lumine...

Better to be overly cautious than caught off-guard.

"Besides," he added, stepping forward with purpose, "he mentioned performing a ritual. In a place like this, I can’t help but feel curious."

Paimon nodded enthusiastically, missing the calculating edge in Darion's voice. "Right! And he called someone 'Director'—maybe there are more people up ahead!"

Darion hummed in agreement, but his hand drifted closer to where his sword would materialize if needed. The fog seemed to swallow sound, but he could just make out panicked shouting in the distance. Whatever awaited them ahead, he'd be ready for it.

In the mysterious fog of Wuwang Hill, the frightened young man ran frantically, his trembling legs nearly tripping over tree roots protruding from the ground. His panicked screams echoed in the deathly atmosphere like a lost soul seeking salvation.

"DIRECTOR! DIRECTOR! THERE'S A GHOST CHASING ME!!"

In a peaceful corner of Wuwang Hill, untouched by the panic unfolding nearby, a girl sat perched with carefree elegance atop a floating companion resembling a chubby ghost. She dressed in an elaborate black and red outfit that seemed to blend funeral attire with playful flourishes. A distinctive hat adorned with a Liyuean emblem sat atop her auburn hair, which was streaked with deep crimson at the ends. Her legs swung freely, white socks disappearing into polished black shoes, as she focused intently on her work.

The mysterious girl held a brush in her right hand with practiced grace, while her left clutched one of the many missing person posters that had been plastered throughout Liyue Harbor—the ones seeking information about a blonde female traveler. But her attention wasn't on the poster itself. Instead, she was adding her own creation to a separate piece of paper: an awkwardly distorted drawing of what she imagined the missing girl's twin might look like. The result was hilariously awful—a golden-haired stick figure with lopsided anatomies, wielding what appeared to be a toy sword.

"Golden hair, not too tall, really handsome..." she muttered to herself, comparing her crude sketch to the professional portrait on the poster. "If his twin looks like this, then he must be..."

After examining her masterpiece, she nodded with satisfaction. "Perfect! A masterpiece!"

The panicked young man staggered into the scene, frantically pointing behind him while gasping for breath. The girl in black continued adding final touches to her drawing—perhaps making the sword even more ridiculously oversized.

"D-DIRECTOR! THERE'S A GH—GHOST CHASING ME! IT SAID IT CAME FROM THE HEAVENS!!"

Slowly, she raised her head. Darion found himself meeting a pair of bright scarlet eyes – vibrant as ruby gems, burning as flame – that regarded the frightened man with practiced indifference. Her face was youthful yet carried an uncanny wisdom, framed by auburn waves of silky hair.

"Meng, if you keep this up, sooner or later I'll have to promote you to customer status." She didn’t even give him a glance, her voice carried the practiced weariness of someone who had this conversation before. "Please toughen up your nerves a bit, would you?"

She hopped off her floating companion, black shoes touching the ground without a sound. Stretching out her arm, she displayed her artistic disaster alongside the official poster, tapping her brush against her terrible drawing.

"Let me guess... The 'ghost' you saw... was a young man with golden hair, not too tall, and very much alive? Does he look anything like this?"

She held up both papers—the professional missing person poster of Lumine and her childish attempt at imagining Darion—angling them toward Meng with an expectant look.

The man called Meng looked at the crude drawing, then behind him at the real Darion approaching through the fog, then back at his employer with extreme confusion, his entire body trembling.

"Y-Y-YES! THAT'S EXACTLY IT!!"

The girl laughed—a sound like wind chimes in a gentle breeze. With a casual flick of her finger, elemental fire sparked to life, consuming only her hand-drawn creation. The ashes of her "masterpiece" spiraled upward before dissolving into the thick fog, while she carefully tucked the actual missing person poster into her coat.

"Well then..." she watched the last embers die, "...my aim was perfect."

Through the fog, two figures gradually appeared. Darion and Paimon stepped forward, his sharp gaze sweeping across the scene, cataloging every detail.

The mysterious girl's attention snapped to Darion like a compass finding north, as if she saw something in Darion invisible to the rest of Teyvat. Interest flickered openly in her fiery eyes as she compared the real person to both the poster of his sister and her terrible artistic interpretation.

Darion's shoulders tensed reflexively under her scrutiny, though his expression remained neutral—a cautious warrior recognizing potential threat.

She tilted her head, regarding him with undisguised curiosity. When she spoke, her voice carried a teasing lilt that danced between playful and predatory.

"Oh? Is this the 'ghost' you're so afraid of?" Her gaze never left Darion's face as her lips curved into a knowing smile. "What a looker we got here! Much better than my illustration of him, I must say."