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Nod-Krai watched, breath caught in a collective throat, as fragments of the starry firmament drifted down. They fell not with a cataclysm’s roar, but with the silent, gentle weight of feathers settling on water, each one casting a soft, luminous ripple across the sea.
It was nothing anyone had imagined. They had braced for devastation, for an ending. Not this… quietly enchanting dissolution.
Despite the Traveler and her companions' joint efforts on Paha Isle, the Harbinger Marionette had succeeded.
Her goal? No one truly knew.
Except for her.
Outside the Silvermoon Hall, Columbina—weaker than she had been in months—stood with her eyes wide open for the first time, watching the false sky peel away. It revealed to her, and to all the world, the secret behind the curtain.
"The true moon." The whisper was soft, fragile, trembling from her lips as her gaze locked onto the pale orb hanging against the crimson tapestry behind the false sky.
Though its ethereal glow had long since faded, Columbina could feel it—the echo of its essence, the memories it cradled—the prologue of her story. Slowly, almost against her will, her hand rose, reaching out as if pulled by a celestial tide.
Finally, she could go home. She could—
"Ahem. Aren't you forgetting something?"
The familiar voice sliced through her reverie, catching her utterly unguarded. Columbina knew that voice in an instant. How could she not? And how had she failed to sense her approach? It was always Columbina who did the surprising, slipping into Sandrone’s laboratory in the dead of night or appearing mid-experiment just to see her jump.
Now, the tables had turned, and the feeling was unnervingly unfamiliar.
"You…" Columbina’s voice was soft as she turned to face Sandrone, who stood surprisingly alone, without Pulonia.
The usual haughty glint in the Marionette’s eyes was gone, replaced by something raw and unguarded—a look Columbina had seen only in the eyes of her own people, and sometimes, in her own reflection. It was a look she never expected from the ever-proud Harbinger.
A strange, aching weight dropped in Columbina’s chest as Sandrone stepped closer, the faint crimson light from the true sky washing over her usually severe features, softening them into something unbearably solemn.
"You did this," Columbina whispered, her hands trembling slightly at her sides, her voice carrying a hint of disbelief. "For me?"
Sandrone’s gaze immediately skittered away, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. What was she supposed to say?
She had always known. The Tsaritsa’s invitation, the promise of a home restored—it had all been a gilded chain for the lost moon goddess of the Frost Moon. And when Columbina’s power had waned past the point of usefulness, she had simply… left, retreating to Nod-Krai to rest and wait and hope for her strength to return.
Only Sandrone knew. Only Sandrone had sworn not to betray her.
And though she would choke on the words before speaking them aloud, Columbina had been her only true companion. The only one who sought her out not for her creations, but for her.
So, Sandrone had taken the wish the Tsaritsa had dangled and made it her own mission to grant it. Even if it meant making an enemy of Nod-Krai. Even if it meant harnessing the sacred power of the Kuuvahki. Even if it meant a betrayal her Cryo Archon might never forgive.
"Hmph!" Sandrone spun her head away, arms crossing in a familiar, defensive gesture. "Don't sound so surprised. I merely wished to demonstrate my prowess—to show the world what I, Lady Marionette, am capable of achieving on my own!"
In the distance, the massive Kuuvahki Experimental Design Bureau smoldered against the horizon, its purpose served.
"This is, of course, all ultimately a part of Her Majesty, the Tsaritsa's grand design," Sandrone added, her voice straining to reclaim its customary arrogance. "S-Such an event will undoubtedly stir the Heavenly Principles from their slumber. Let all of Teyvat tremble at the might of the Harbingers!"
The laugh that escaped Sandrone's lips was a dry, brittle sound, so palpably forced it hung in the air between them. Yet, she couldn’t help the soft, sorrowful smile that followed.
"D-Don't you dare laugh at me, Columbina!" Sandrone whirled to face her, stomping her foot against the pale sands in a gesture that felt more like a plea than a protest.
"I wasn't laughing," Columbina defended, her smile only widening, a bittersweet curve of her lips. "I was just…" She trailed off, the right words lost to the ache in her chest.
Slowly, she stepped forward, half-expecting Sandrone to retreat. When she held her ground, Columbina closed the final distance between them.
"Thank you," she breathed, the words barely a whisper. Her hands moved of their own volition, finding Sandrone's and holding them tight.
A small, flustered sound escaped the blonde, but she didn’t pull away. She allowed their fingers to weave together, and as they locked, a deep, warm blush bloomed across her cheeks.
"I can finally go home," Columbina murmured, her gaze drifting past Sandrone to the distant, pale orb. "I can finally return to my moon."
The words landed like a stone in Sandrone's stomach. This was it. This was the prelude to the goodbye she had orchestrated, the moment she had worked toward with such single-minded purpose.
"This has always been the goal," she mused to herself, her eyes flicking from Columbina’s serene face to the moon hanging in the true sky. "I suppose… I forgot about this part. I never thought it would feel like this. I never thought it would hurt."
Her thoughts shattered when Columbina suddenly leaned in. The press of her lips against Sandrone’s flushed cheek was featherlight, a fleeting touch that burned.
"Eh?! W-W-What was that for?!" Sandrone stuttered, her composure fracturing. She tried to pull her hands free, a reflexive jerk of panic, but Columbina—despite her weakened state—held on with a quiet, desperate strength. This might be the last time. The last time their hands would ever fit together like this.
"It's to thank you," Columbina answered, a hint of playfulness in her tone before it softened back into something heavy and final. "And also… to say goodbye, Sandrone."
With a soft, resigned sigh, she finally let go. The loss of contact felt immediate and cold. Turning her face to the heavens, Columbina’s expression grew distant.
"I can feel it… the Frost Moon is calling out to me. My true home."
Again, she raised her hand. A single, shimmering thread of golden light descended from the moon, slithering through the vastness like a lifeline, meant for her and her alone.
With one last, lingering glance at the Harbinger who had torn down the sky for her, Columbina offered a tearful smile.
"Farewell…"
Before the words, buried and burning within her, could find their voice, Columbina was gone—pulled into the heavens as the golden thread vanished, leaving only empty air behind.
And as she reunited with her moon, its long-lost light surged, brilliant and pure, washing away the faint crimson bathing the land below.
Sandrone’s hand rose, a futile gesture against the vastness, fingers straining to feel a trace of her in the new moonlight.
But the distance was an infinite gulf. In the coldness of the night, all she felt was the searing path of a single tear down her cheek.