While the twins from two different timelines stood there arguing in hushed, desperate tones, a full half-hour slipped by in a blur of frantic plans and aching sibling love.
They finally reached their decision: they would rescue the Aether of Lumine's timeline first. The blonde traveler's own Lumine — already half-consumed by the Abyss's corruption — could wait.
She wasn't in immediate danger of vanishing, after all. It wasn't that either twin loved one sibling less; the pain of separation burned like molten gold in both their hearts.
But in Lumine's ruined timeline, Aether's fall was accelerating. Every wasted heartbeat brought him closer to the point of no return. To them, it was a desperate sprint against an invisible clock.
From my seat behind the counter, I watched them with the quiet amusement only an immortal shopkeeper could afford.
'Cute,' I thought. 'Endearing, even.'
From my perspective, a god-like one. they seemed almost comically naïve.
Still, my personal opinions on whether they succeeded or failed were irrelevant.
This shop contained artifacts that could unwrite fate itself, rewind corrupted souls, or turn certain doom into yesterday's lunch special.
Rushing them wouldn't change the tapestry. Better to let them leave of their own accord.
Forced sales breed resentment; voluntary ones breed loyalty. And loyalty, in my line of work, is pure profit.
As they turned toward the exit, I rose smoothly and pressed a warm bronze card into Aether's calloused palm.
The metal hummed faintly, etched with runes that shimmered like captured starlight.
"If you ever need anything from my shop again," I said, voice calm and carrying that effortless confidence I'd perfected over the years, "Use this as your anchor. And Aether — you'll definitely need it to return here. Without it, crossing back into your own timeline will be… impossible."
Aether froze mid-step. For a heartbeat, exhaustion and genuine gratitude warred across face. "…Thanks."
I shook my head, offering the small, knowing smile that always made new customers slightly uneasy. "No need. You'll come back eventually — and when you do, you'll buy something. That much is certain."
"You're that confident?" he asked, one golden eyebrow arching despite the weariness weighing on him.
My grin widened, utterly unshakable. "You'll see."
'Only I truly understand how valuable this place is,'I thought, watching them step through the doorway. 'Countless kings, archons, and ordinary souls across the multiverse would have burned empires to the ground for even a single visit.'
Here, imagination itself was the only real currency, and limits simply did not exist. Aether didn't grasp it yet. He would. They always did.
As the door clicked shut behind them, a belated realization struck me. "Oh — right. I forgot to mention they'll probably run straight into the Unknown God again the moment they cross over."
I winced, already picturing the inevitable one-sided beatdown. "I really hope they don't die. That would be inconvenient for future sales."
—
Outside the Shop
"AHHHH! THAT CRAZY BITCH!" Lumine's voice cracked across the void like golden thunder as she stormed forward, twin braids whipping behind her. "I SWEAR, THE NEXT TIME I GET ENOUGH POWER I'M GOING TO SHOVE MY SWORD SO FAR DOWN HER—"
"Lumine, l-let's… not talk about it right now," Aether cut in gently, voice hoarse. His hand found her shoulder, though his own legs looked ready to fold beneath him.
Compared to his sister, Aether truly looked like a beggar who had lost a fight with a hurricane.
His once-pristine cloak hung in ragged strips, stained with dust and faint streaks of blood that weren't entirely his.
Bruises bloomed across his arms and face like dark flowers. If their clash with the Unknown God could even be called a "fight," it had been closer to a casual, godlike lesson delivered with bored indifference.
The instant they had re-entered the space between worlds, the silver-haired guardian had been waiting — eyes glowing with that same cold, absolute authority.
This time the twins hadn't charged in like idiots. They knew better.
Aether's powers remained sealed, leaving him fragile and earthbound, while Lumine became their frantic lifeline — darting through the air like a comet, scooping up both her brother and the tiny Paimon whenever the Unknown God's attacks threatened to erase them.
She flew as if death itself were snapping at her heels, because in their eyes, the Unknown God might as well have been.
She took the worst of the blows — shields shattering, wings flickering — but her superior mobility and raw resilience kept her standing.
Aether had no such luxury. Each glancing strike sent him tumbling, ribs screaming, vision blurring. Still, through sheer stubborn will and Lumine's desperate aerial rescues, they slipped past the guardian and tumbled into Teyvat proper.
The world that greeted them was no longer the Teyvat Aether remembered waking up to.
Gone was the soft dawn light filtering through emerald leaves. Instead, an endless crimson shroud choked the sky, thick as congealed blood, turning every horizon into an open wound.
The air tasted metallic and heavy, carrying distant screams of a dying land.
From the moment their boots touched soil, abyss-tainted creatures swarmed — writhing shadows with too many joints, eyes like burning coals, mouths dripping liquid void.
They came in endless waves, drawn to the twins' presence like moths to a dying flame.
The siblings fought without pause. Blades flashed. Elemental bursts lit the blood-red gloom. Every fallen monster dissolved into black ichor that hissed against the ground.
They spared nothing; these were not people, merely extensions of the corruption that had already devoured this timeline.
Days blurred into a haze of steel and exhaustion. They snatched sleep in shifts — never more than two hours — while the other kept watch.
Hunger should have broken them, but the generous provisions I had quietly slipped into their packs kept their strength up: bread that never staled, fruits that tasted of sunlight, jerky that restored vitality with every bite. Without it, Paimon would have been the first to collapse.
The little floating guide was fascinating. Lumine couldn't stop staring as the white-haired sprite devoured portions twice her own size, cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk, eyes sparkling with pure bliss.
"How does something so tiny have an endless stomach?" Lumine muttered one night, half in awe. "Is it an inventory? A black hole?"
Aether, sprawled against a shattered pillar and chewing mechanically, only shrugged. To him, Paimon's appetite had always been normal.
But he was suffering. Every swing of his sword felt heavier. His sealed body moved slower than Lumine's.
He missed his old power — the effortless grace, the roaring winds at his command.
Right now he was the weaker sibling, and the knowledge gnawed at him worse than any bruise.
Then, on the evening of the fourth day, something changed.
Through a break in the twisted trees they spotted light — not the hellish red glow, but the warm flicker of lanterns.
Not one, but many. A cluster of survivors had barricaded themselves inside the ruined shell of what had once been a grand church, stained-glass windows shattered, stone walls cracked but still standing like a stubborn prayer.
The moment the twins stepped into the clearing, every adult capable of holding a weapon surged forward.
Worn swords and splintered spears leveled at their throats. Gaunt, scarred faces — eyes hollow from too many nights of terror — stared with raw hostility.
These were not frightened villagers. These were veterans who had looked into the abyss and crawled back.
Behind the defensive line, children huddled together in the shadows, small hands clutching ragged clothes, wide eyes glistening with unshed tears.
They watched the strangers with the pure, animal fear of those who had already lost everything once and knew they could lose it again in an instant.
The air thickened with tension. Steel glinted. Breaths held.
And in that fragile, razor-edged silence, the twins realized this broken world had taught its survivors one brutal lesson above all others:
Trust no one.