Citlali's frown deepened, the soft glow of the lanterns catching on the faint shimmer of the tattoo across her cheek.
"You wanted to know if I made any progress? Not with that attitude." Her voice cut through the warm evening air like a whip.
Frieda stepped forward, the corner of her lips curving into a fragile, almost desperate smile.
"Please… Grandma Citlali…" she said softly, the words trembling with both hope and exhaustion.
Citlali let out a long, theatrical sigh—the kind that told you she was already giving in despite her protests.
"Ugh… fine. Just because your situation is so unique." She flicked her fingers toward the door and turned sharply, her ribbon swaying behind her like the tail of a scorned cat.
Inside, the air was heavy with the scent of dried herbs and faint embers still glowing in the fireplace. Stacks of papers, charts, and strange crystal shards littered the table, each one glowing faintly in hues that danced between violet and pink.
Frieda and Felix followed her in, the sound of Felix's talons clicking softly against the floorboards.
"Close the door," Citlali muttered, already moving toward the far wall where a strange map was pinned—its surface not of parchment, but of shifting, living light.
Citlali pointed at the table.
A lavender flower with four trembling petals sat there—no stem, no scent. Only the faintest, defiant glow, like candlelight refusing to die.
"I found this growing near the garden. It wasn't there before, and the second I looked away… it just appeared." Citlali's tone carried a strange mix of pride and unease.
"What's this flower?" Frieda leaned forward, hand hovering to touch the petals—
"DON'T TOUCH IT!"
Before Frieda could react, Citlali yanked her back and promptly whacked her on the head with a pillow.
"I was just about to explain! These flowers are connected to the Abyss. Touch them, and you'll be whisked away there instantly!" Citlali pouted, looming over Frieda like a scolding specter.
Frieda rubbed her head. "Ow…"
Felix tilted his head. "So this is how he vanished… but then how did you pluck them?"
Citlali puffed her chest with pride. "Who do you take me for? I'm the greatest Shaman of the Masters of the Night Wind Tribe!"
"Well… at least we've found the cause of his disappearance," Felix said, his voice heavier than usual.
Citlali's smirk faded, her tone dropping to a grim note. "That's not all… These flowers are both a defense mechanism and a trap. They'll take any human to the Abyss in an instant if touched… but when they glow, they also repel Abyssal beings."
"Felix…"
The voice was no louder than a sigh, a phantom ripple in the still air.
No one spoke. No one moved.
No one—except Felix.
His head snapped toward the open window, pupils narrowing to pinpricks. The blood drained from his face, replaced by a rush of heat in his chest.
That voice… impossible.
The chair clattered to the floor as he tore through the doorway, wings snapping open in one fluid, desperate motion.
"Wait—WHERE ARE YOU GOING?!" Frieda's voice cracked as she ran after him, her boots striking the stone. "THAT IDIOT!" she hissed, clutching her arms tight as if to hold herself together.
Felix didn't answer. He couldn't.
The world blurred into streaks of moonlight and shadow as his wings beat with violent force. With a thunderous BOOM, the sound barrier shattered behind him, the shockwave rattling the shutters of Citlali's home.
And still, beneath the roar of the wind, the whisper followed.
"Orion… it's you… finally…"
Felix's jaw clenched. His heartbeat was no longer his own—it belonged to the voice.
In Mondstadt
Orion stepped out of the tavern, the door creaking shut behind him as the warmth and laughter bled into the night. The lamplight spilled through rain-streaked windows, dancing in puddles of spilled wine along the cobblestones. The air was heavy with the mingled scents of damp earth and the rich tang of aged barrels, their fragrance lingering like a ghost of past nights.
He adjusted the strap of his backpack, eyes fixed on the sky, breath steady but heart quickening. He was waiting—hoping.
Then it came.
A deep, rolling thunder shook the air. The clouds above tore apart, ripped open by a blinding streak that screamed across the heavens. The sonic boom shattered the night's quiet, rattling the tavern shutters and sending a ripple through the puddles below.
Felix descended from the breach in the clouds, wings flaring wide, each beat kicking up a blast of wind that tugged at Orion's coat. Moonlight clung to the edges of his feathers, making him look like a phantom pulled from a dream.
"It's been a while… my friend." Orion's voice trembled, though a faint smile tugged at his lips.
"You have no idea how worried I was." Felix's tone was low, edged with relief and frustration as he landed. His claws hit the stones with a resonant thud before pinning Orion down, his weight firm and unyielding.
Despite the sudden force, Orion laughed softly. "At this rate… we really should start calling you a cat."
Inside the Abyss
"Come home… come home… my dear child.
The pain of your absence is no gentle tide… it gnaws, it hollows, it rots us inside.
When you leave this house… the world will know pain…
Your presence outside brings no Heaven any gain…
Come home… come home… my dear child…
The time for your sacrifice is nigh…
Come home…
Come home… my dear child…"
The voice bled into the endless dark like a lullaby sung through rotting teeth.
The Abyss itself seemed to hum along — the slick creak of shifting sludge, the slow drip of unseen fluids, the hollow groans of something vast moving in the shadows.
Ash sat on the fringe of the lavender field — the only color in this starving void.
The flowers trembled faintly, their glow fragile but defiant, pushing back the dark by inches.
His eyes were locked on the abyss beyond, where light dared not step.
Then… something emerged.
The flowers brightened in fear.
"Why are you singing now…" Ash's voice was barely above a whisper, as though speaking louder might invite the darkness closer.
"Because… we want to…"
From the blackness, an image of Orion surfaced — pale, framed by the soft lavender glow, almost human… almost.
"You can't trick me into leaving this field," Ash said sharply, his voice quivering at the edges. "I'm thirteen now… I know you don't mean any good."
"You are smart then…" The figure's smile curdled. The features began to sag, melt. Skin sloughed away in strips, eyes clouding like milk before one dissolved entirely.
The mouth stretched far too wide, teeth jutting at wrong angles — jagged, broken shards rammed into bone.
The air grew colder. The lavender light shuddered.
"Do you truly think," the voice rasped, now layered with dozens of whispers, "that we want to consume you?"
Ash's face hardened, though his hands trembled. "Something as horrifying as you… can only be a monster. That's what Ashlyn said."
The thing leaned closer, and the dark swelled with the scent of rot.
It smiled.
Not a human smile — but a slow, cracking stretch of flesh over bone, as if the face itself was struggling to mimic the gesture.
"We don't want to consume you…"
The words crawled into Ash's ears and slithered down his spine, leaving a cold trail.
"We are blind… blind beings of the Abyss…" The voice was a layered murmur, as though dozens spoke at once, each one from a different corner of the darkness. "We consume… Abyssal energy. But the Abyss… it is alive. It is not a creature you can slay… not a god you can plead with. This place… it lives… it knows…"
The thing's head tilted into the lavender glow — and immediately recoiled. The light sizzled against its flesh, smoke curling from its skinless jaw as it staggered back a step.
Ash didn't move at first, his breath tight in his throat. Then, instinctively, he retreated deeper into the flowers, the faint glow pooling around him like a fragile shield.
"I know I can't trust you," Ash said, voice low but firm. "If you eat Abyssal energy… then why did you kill Ashlyn's friends?"
The creature froze. The darkness seemed to listen.
"To protect Teyvat…To protect our source of food....." it said finally — almost tenderly. But the softness in its tone felt wrong, like a dagger wrapped in silk.