The cafe's wails over The Lord of the Rings' cliffhanger still echoed—two more parts promised yet shrouded in mystery, a delay that twisted the crowd's joy into a chorus of anguished groans.
"No timeline? That's torture!" one howled, while another slumped, muttering, "I'll perish without the rest!" their despair a symphony Liam sipped alongside his soda, unmoved and grinning.
Today's emotional haul would be a geyser—frustration over Middle-earth's halt blending with the day's gaming fervor, a potent brew he savored as the melon-eaters slowly steadied themselves.
Some looped back to rewatch Fellowship, craving its epic balm, while others pivoted to games, their focus splitting as Keqing and Tartaglia's Dig to Ascend duel hit its fevered peak.
Liam's clearance video had armed them—terrain etched in their minds, every fulcrum a known ally—and now it boiled down to speed and steel, a razor-thin race for the first-pass crown.
Both scaled the snow slope's slick incline, the lighthouse looming near—first to conquer it held the edge, its tower and floating stones a memorized gauntlet promising victory to the swiftest.
The crowd buzzed, bets flying—"Keqing, Liyue's Yuheng, takes it!" a local boasted, countered by, "Tartaglia's a Harbinger—Zhidong's got grit!"—their wagers a clash of pride as tense as the climb.
"It's neck and neck—too close to call," one hedged, while a Mondstadter wailed, "Who do I back? I'm torn!" the stakes rising as the snowy crest neared, bets locking in fast.
Keqing trailed Tartaglia by a hair as they breached the slope, his hammer a heartbeat ahead, but that sliver of lead teetered—precision now their battlefield, not just pace.
Her pulse spiked, yet she reined it in—losing to a Fatui executive on Liyue soil was unthinkable, her Yuheng honor a flame she'd stoke with every calculated swing.
They struck the spire in unison, hammers slamming stone, and climbed—tops reached, angles tweaked—ready to leap for the overhead rock, Tartaglia poised to launch first by a breath.
Keqing refused defeat—while Tartaglia landed and adjusted, she gambled, hooking the spire's peak mid-swing, a daring vault that risked a miss but promised a shortcut if fate smiled.
Luck held—the bald man she steered grazed the rock dead-on, momentum hurling him to the next, then up again, soaring past the starry sky as the cafe's horn blared its verdict.
"Congratulations to Ms. Keqing, Unit 12, first to clear Dig to Ascend—claim your reward at the counter," the mechanical voice sang, and Keqing ripped off her headset, beaming with triumph.
Tartaglia froze, two seconds shy—his screen stilled as her star flared, the gap a dagger to his pride, his loss sealed in a blink despite his relentless climb.
"Two seconds—two blasted seconds!" he rasped, accepting the sting—Zhongli had crushed him in Silent Hill, now Keqing in Digging, Liyue's titans humbling him twice over.
"Liyue's brimming with skill—I bow to it," he chuckled, a wry grin masking the ache; defeat spurred him, a Harbinger's fire to reclaim glory in the speed-race ahead.
Keqing strode to the counter, her prize a gold trophy—the bald man mid-hammer swing—her name blazing atop the Honor List, a Liyue star's victory etched in digital gold.
Across the cafe, Hu Tao neared Super Mario's endgame—eight worlds, thirty-two stages total—and her plumber danced through the final stretch, a sprint few could've foreseen.
Liam peeked at her progress—lucky skips had eased her path, early hurdles tamed by instinct, the rest a breeze for a first-timer, her pace defying the game's usual grind.
Her elemental flair was capped here, but Hu Tao's reflexes—honed beyond mortal norms—carried her, Mario's week-long curve no match for her preternatural snap and speed.
"She's a master—my Hu Tao's a marvel," Liam mused with a nod, pride swelling, though a mental scoff followed—my Hu Tao?—his cheek a jest even he couldn't fully sell.
The cafe thrummed—Keqing's win, Hu Tao's brink, the Lord of the Rings ache—a tapestry of triumphs and teases, Liam's web tightening around Teyvat's boldest, their passions his gain.
***
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