"He can truly restrain the abyss? Then perhaps this is a blessing."
The voice belonged to Morax, calm and steady, yet carrying a faint echo of relief as he studied the renewed radiance of the Maintainer of Heavenly Principles. Her once-corroded aura was pure now, a sign the new Heavenly Law possessed what even Phanes had lacked—the power to cleanse the abyss.
Focalors had never met the Maintainer in person. But even she, the newest among them, knew of Sky Island's structure: the Law of Heaven above, and four Shades below, eternal guardians of the balance. It was only logical the golden-eyed sentinel before her was one of them.
…
When the four Archons passed through the grand doors of the palace, awe took root in their chests. This was the Pantheon.
A ring of thrones circled the vast hall, every seat humming faintly with elemental resonance. At the apex of the circle, set upon the highest dais, gleamed the grandest throne of all. Upon it reclined a young man, chin resting lazily against his hand, gaze level and unshaken.
Mathew.
The smile that curved his lips was light, almost playful, as though the gravity of the moment weighed less than air upon him.
"First meeting," he said, his voice carrying easily across the expanse. "Morax, Barbatos, Raiden Shogun, Focalors. The old Heavenly Law, Phanes, has perished. I am the successor—your new Tianli."
Behind him bloomed a radiant halo—the Original Dharma Ring, shards of prismatic light intertwining in majestic order. It was not mere ornament. This was the authority that bound every law of Teyvat. Even the Demon Gods themselves were born from fragments of its brilliance.
For a heartbeat, silence suffocated the hall. Then, four divine hearts thundered as one.
"Phanes… is dead."
Their disbelief gave way to shock, then comprehension.
"Yes," Mathew affirmed. "Phanes fell protecting Teyvat during the Khaenri'ah Cataclysm five centuries past. And I—newborn to this world—was chosen as the fifth successor. I inherited the throne and its full power upon my arrival."
He spoke evenly, but there was steel beneath.
Morax, eldest among them, steadied his thoughts fastest. He inclined his head, ancient eyes narrowing. "So that is why you summoned us. A new Law of Heaven. It explains much."
Yes, it explained the restored strength of the Maintainer, the absence of abyssal taint, the very fact that this council was even possible. The logic settled into him like stone aligning in a wall.
Beside him, Barbatos exhaled in visible relief. If Heaven had truly been inherited anew, perhaps the matter of his… "misplaced" Heart of God would not be dragged into light. A new Law might forgive what an old one would punish.
"Come, sit," Mathew said, snapping his fingers.
A round table shimmered into being, five ornate thrones rising around it, each marked with the sigil of its element. Beside his own seat, Asmodeus, the Maintainer, took her place in silence.
The Archons hesitated only a breath before taking their thrones.
Barbatos, ever the actor, clapped his chest. "If Heaven calls this matter Teyvat's top priority, then my wind is yours until death!" He grinned broadly, though his eyes flicked sideways, gauging. Flattery was cheap, and the new Law did not seem as cold as Phanes had been. Better to ingratiate early.
"By the way," he added with practiced innocence, "what of the other three? Why were they not summoned?"
Mathew's eyes gleamed with quiet amusement. "Their nations are unfit to sit in this circle. Until they resolve their rot, they are excluded."
He let the words hang, pointed. Barbatos swallowed. That playful tone was the most dangerous of all—light words hiding hard truth.
"Then let us hear the purpose of this council," Morax interjected smoothly, redirecting. His voice was calm, but keen.
The Raiden Shogun said nothing, her silence as sharp as the blade she carried. She was here, but her thoughts, as always, returned to her sister. Could this new Law restore what she had lost? She dared not hope—but she dared not dismiss it, either.
Focalors shifted, fingers twisting in her lap. She had never been so out of her depth. Her strength was pale beside these ancients. Yet Fontaine's fate might balance on what was decided here. Fear gnawed at her, but she forced herself to meet Heaven's gaze.
"Asmodeus." Mathew's voice was soft, but it rippled through the hall like thunder. "Pass the truth to them."
She lifted her hand. A surge of power streamed from the Human Realm Power System, bridging the Thrones like a woven net. Visions poured into the Archons' minds—annexation blueprints, multiversal coordinates, systems of law and fate woven together like constellations.
For a moment, the hall was nothing but gasps and widened eyes.
Shock.
Excitement.
And then, fanaticism.
Barbatos was the first to break the silence, his voice breathless. "Annex… other worlds. Complete Teyvat through them. This is beyond anything Phanes ever conceived." He laughed, half-crazed by wonder. "Even the creator who bent time pales beside you, New Law!"
Morax's amber gaze deepened, awe replacing caution. He had bowed to Heaven before out of duty. But now? He felt reverence rising genuine in his heart. This was not merely inheritance. This was expansion, ambition, destiny unchained.
"Yes," he said slowly, his voice resonant. "This is the will our people have always longed for. Not to cower in a crumbling world—but to build an eternal one."
The Raiden Shogun's violet eyes trembled. Hands once steady as steel shook now with possibility. Another world… perhaps one where her sister's soul could be reclaimed. For the first time in centuries, a fire beyond eternity flickered within her.
"I, too, will lend my power," she said at last, her tone uncharacteristically fervent.
Focalors pressed her hands together, bowing slightly. "And mine. For the sake of Fontaine. For the sake of our people." A desperate thought swelled unbidden—perhaps, with other worlds annexed, there might be a cure for Fontaine's curse. Perhaps she would not have to die.
Mathew smiled, tapping his fingers lightly on the table. Every god here had their own reason, their own secret hope. And every one of them aligned neatly beneath his vision.
"Good," he said. "Then hear this: I will adjust Teyvat's very laws to aid you. No Archon should fear to act while we undertake this great design."
The table's surface lit, threads of law spiraling out into the void. "First…"
The council leaned forward. The future of Teyvat tilted on the edge of Mathew's words.
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