The battlefield smelled like charred void goo, cracked rocks, and my own sweat—which, for the record, is 80% stubbornness and 20% chicken skewers.
The Abyss Herald lay on the ground in a broken heap, twitching slightly like a corrupted anime USB drive. I stood over him, sword in one hand, victory in the other, and chaos in my heart.
With zero hesitation, I grabbed his weird squid-head and yanked it up, forcing him to look at my face. And I gave him The Look—you know, the I've-just-watched-200-hours-of-lore-theorycrafting-and-I'm-unhinged look.
"Now now," I said, voice low and threatening. "Time for you to tell me everything you know."
He growled through his probably broken teeth -If he has some- I generously rearranged earlier. "You can never make me speak, mortal! Never!"
Oh?
"Listen here, seaweed breath," I said, crouching to his level. "I will torture you to death. Like dead-dead. Totally dead. Not breathing kind of dead."
He grunted and laughed. That smug little abyssal laugh that made me wanna shove a Vision up his nose.
"You may break my body," he sneered, "but I will never betray the Abyss."
And so I did break his body.
Every. Single. Part.
I went full medieval.
Kicked him in the nuts so hard a choir of Hilichurls started weeping in the distance. I force-fed him my cooking—burnt radish stew seasoned with crushed dreams. I even summoned a Geo-chair just to throw it at him. Twice.
But he still wouldn't talk.
I stared at him, hands on my hips, panting.
"Damn this fucker," I thought. "He's really not talking at all. I already broke his body but he still refuses to give in! I have to make him talk! But I have nothing to blackmail him with… unless…"
And then I grinned.
That evil kind of grin that turns wholesome grandma NPCs into scared background characters.
I laughed. Loud. Manic. Deranged. Even the crickets shut up.
I leaned in real close—cheek to abyssal cheek—and whispered...
"If you don't start talking... I will break your Prince's mind."
He froze.
I kept going.
"I will marry his sister off to some emo Anemo dude with chronic depression, a tragic backstory, and a tendency to vanish during Lantern Rite. Bro's gonna have to attend the wedding just to stop him from monologuing about karmic debt at the altar. He'll be forced to show up, and your whole plan? Absolutely obliterated, my guy."
The Abyss Herald trembled.
He trembled.
"This idiot is truly evil..." he whispered. "...maybe more evil than me..."
He coughed. "Y-you... You're an evil being... You shall not—"
"Yeah yeah," I cut him off, waving my hand, "if you don't want that to happen, you better start talking, my guy."
And so he did.
He really did.
"Fine," the Abyss Herald finally growled, blood leaking from his cracked mask. "You want to know?"
He glared up at me.
"The Abyss Order plans to bring about the Destruction of Teyvat. Not just conquest—obliteration. We call it the Loom of Fate... the weaving of a new destiny forged by our own hands. We are gathering divine elements—Archon-level power—to fuse them into one true force, a primordial catalyst that can rival the gods."
He coughed.
"The war against Celestia is inevitable. We're corrupting the Ley Lines, manipulating them, reprogramming them to serve the Abyss. Twisting the world roots beneath each nation. If we succeed, we won't just rule this world… we'll rewrite fate itself."
He panted heavily, glaring at me like I was the villain for making him confess all that. I probably was. Still worth it.
I blinked.
Then blinked again.
Then let out the most disappointed sigh known to mankind.
"Dude. Come on. Tell me something I don't know. Like, I already learned that way back in version 4.7. Seriously? That's your big lore bomb?"
The Abyss Herald looked... confused.
As he should.
"What the hell is a version 4.7—?"
"Man, you're so useless," I groaned, standing up. "I'll just finish you off."
I raised my sword.
His eyes widened.
WHOOSH.
A dark swirling portal suddenly appeared behind him, and a blinding gust of golden energy shot out, slamming into my sword mid-swing.
I slid back from the impact.
"Damn," I muttered, shaking my arm. "You sure took your time, Aether."
I backed off a few steps, cracking my neck, rolling my shoulders.
"You're in perfect timing," I said, grinning. "I'm in desperate need of new lore dumps, and you, Mr. Plot Device Extraordinaire, are the only guy who can cough 'em up."
He didn't speak.
Just stared at me.
Wary.
Almost like I was the threat here.
"So here's the deal," I declared. "Either you talk, and we keep things peaceful, or I beat it out of you like I did your abyssal Uber driver here."
He narrowed his eyes. "You're... an anomaly in this world."
Oh?
"You're not supposed to be here," he added, quietly.
Interesting.
"Yeah, well," I said, raising my sword again, "my birth certificate says otherwise. Let's dance, Sparkle Boy."
I charged.
I attacked.
And got absolutely WRECKED.
Aether moved like a damn ballet dancer possessed by a war god. Every strike I launched was countered with the precision of a seasoned tyrant—one that had fought gods and got bored. My Anemo-enhanced flurry? He parried it with the effortless swag of a Beidou main who perfectly times every counter and deletes a weekly boss at 1 HP. I'm talking frame-perfect, parry-to-crit, world-record-speedrun levels of disrespect. Geo traps? He dodged them like they were low-level puzzles from Mondstadt. But what truly messed with my brain was the Abyss power—pure, raw, and unnatural. He didn't just use it. He wielded it. With every punch laced in dark flame, with every flicker of that cursed energy, he made it clear: this was no longer the Aether I knew. This was the Abyss Prince. And he was fighting like I'd personally pissed off his ancestors. He zipped through elements—Anemo blink, Geo slam,—and then came the Abyss combo: a dark-chain whip that coiled around my arm, yanked me mid-air, followed by a spinning kick that cracked the ground when I hit it. It felt less like a duel and more like being on the wrong side of a lore update.
He slapped me with a combo so clean even my bones filed a complaint.
Then he just stood over me.
Looking...
Disappointed.
"I will come for you soon as well," he said, voice cold. "Anomaly."
And just like that, he vanished into the portal.
Gone.
I lay there, face-up, bleeding ego and cracked ribs.
"...Man," I groaned, "he fucked me up."
I rolled over slowly, groaning louder, wondering if Paimon delivers emergency food and therapy.
***
I limped out of the ruins like a war veteran in the final season of a long-running anime. My sword was dragging behind me, my cape (which I didn't even own this morning) was torn and mysteriously bloodstained, and my ribs sounded like a xylophone every time I breathed.
"You good, bro?" a random butterfly seemed to ask as it floated by.
"No, Gerald, I'm not good," I muttered. "I got combo'd by the Abyss version of a five-star main character."
And there they were—Lumine, Paimon, and Dainsleif—just standing outside the ruins like they were waiting for their Uber. The sun was annoyingly bright. Birds were chirping like nothing traumatic just happened. Nature had the audacity to be peaceful.
I raised one trembling arm and pointed a finger like I was accusing the sky of tax fraud.
"Took your sweet damn time," I croaked. "Other Blond Dude already beat me into an abstract painting."
Lumine blinked. Paimon floated closer. Dainsleif tilted his head like a morally ambiguous owl.
"Wait, OTHER Blond Dude?" Lumine asked.
I plopped down on the grass like a sack of broken dreams and spicy noodles. "Yeah. Aether. Abyss Prince edition. Just dropped in, beat the living shit outta me, and left like it was a scheduled ass-kicking appointment."
Paimon looked genuinely shocked. And trust me, it's rare to see the floating rice ball make any face that isn't hungry or annoyed.
"You mean... like my brother Aether? That Aether?" Lumine's voice was quiet.
I nodded and then winced because my neck said "we're not doing that today."
"He came in all dramatic like some final boss cutscene. Said I was an anomaly. Then he hit me so hard, I think I saw my gacha history."
"...That's actually terrifying," Paimon mumbled.
Dainsleif finally spoke, voice calm and filled with that depressing elegance that makes you feel like he's been through fifty wars and a failed cooking career.
"You encountered the Abyss Herald?"
I gave him a grin that was 80% pain and 20% spite.
"Did I? DID I?! My dude, I body slammed that squid-faced bastard into next week. I went full anime on him. There were chairs thrown. I kicked him in the void nuts. It was a moment."
They all stared at me like I needed a therapist.
"...Anyway," I said, waving the trauma away like it was a gnat, "I beat him up, got a few good lines in, threatened to emotionally damage Aether, and then—boom—her twin arrives. Chaos. Big sad. I get folded. He saves the Herald and poofs out like a drama queen with eyeliner."
Lumine frowned. Deeply. And for a moment, the air shifted. Like her whole soul paused to process the Aether-shaped pain.
"Did he say anything else to you?"
I hesitated.
"Just that I wasn't supposed to be here. Which is ironic, 'cause I've been saying that since Day One."
She didn't laugh.
...Tough crowd.
Dainsleif crossed his arms. "You left out the part about what the Herald was doing before Aether arrived."
I gave him my best 'trust me, bro' look. "That's between you and me later, tall-dark-and-serious. Don't worry, the juicy lore dump's coming soon. I just don't want to say it in front of people who might scream about timelines."
Paimon huffed. "HEY!"
Lumine sat beside me, and to my surprise, she looked... genuinely worried.
"You're never that messed up," she said softly.
"Aw, thanks. Usually I get beaten stylishly. This one was... less hot."
"...What?"
Dainsleif ignored my entire existence like usual. "While you were in the ruins, we encountered several Abyss Mages ourselves."
My eyebrow went up. The one not bandaged, anyway.
"They weren't attacking," Lumine said. "They were... searching. Like, digging through the remains of old ruin guards. Pulling them apart like they were looking for something."
"Specifically," Dainsleif added, "an object. Possibly a key. Or a relic."
I sat up straight, which immediately turned into sitting up hunched because my spine was currently trying to file for retirement.
"...Shit."
They looked at me.
"HAHAHAHA oh no," I said, grinning through my pain. "We better find that Loom of Fate faster, 'cause I have a feeling they're not just browsing for plot devices."
And that's when it hit me. The Abyss Order wasn't just trolling ruins for funsies. They were building something. Something big.
My smile faded.
"...Guys," I muttered, finally serious. "If they're looking for parts of the Loom... we might already be too late."
Dainsleif's expression darkened.
Paimon floated lower.
Lumine clenched her fists.
And me?
I just lay back down.
"Cool cool cool," I groaned. "Guess I'm gonna have to heal up, uncover ancient cosmic secrets, stop a world-ending doomsday machine, and maybe—just maybe—eat a decent meal after."
Silence.
Then:
"Do you need food now?" Lumine asked gently.
I blinked.
Then grabbed her hand with all the drama of a Shakespearean hero.
"Yes. But also... emotional support. And maybe ice. And probably a neck brace."
Paimon hovered over me. "You're such a baby."
"Paimon, I got yeeted into a wall so hard I unlocked trauma from a past life."
She patted my head like I was a pet dog with a tragic backstory.
And so we rested there a while.
In the ruins of secrets.
Under the weight of the storm to come.
But hey.
At least I wasn't bored.
And we just continue on our journey like it was a regular Tuesday.
So picture this:
I'm bruised, battered, probably walking with the swagger of a grandpa who just got off a spinning teacup ride, and still reeling from the trauma of being combo'd into the floor like a Genshin tutorial boss. And yet here I am, once again, with my chaotic little trio: me, Lumine, and Paimon. Oh, and the walking lore encyclopedia known as Dainsleif.
We're on a mission.
A dangerous, important, absolutely crucial mission.
One that might decide the fate of the world.
And also, one that requires hiking.
I hate hiking.
My ribs still feel like discounted Snezhnayan pottery.
"So," I muttered, dragging my body over a rock like a tragic NPC with one dialogue box left, "are we sure this is the only way? We couldn't have, I dunno, commissioned a teleport waypoint Uber or something?"
Dainsleif ignored me. Obviously.
"These ruins once belonged to a minor Khaenri'ahn outpost," he said calmly, completely immune to my suffering. "If the Abyss Order is here, then they're looking for something related to the Field Tillers."
Field Tillers. Right.
"Hey, Dain," I said, panting like a dehydrated wolfhook. "Quick question. You remember how I explained what Khaenri'ah is? You know, 'land of cursed robots and tragic backstory'?"
"Yes," he replied, without looking at me. "It was wildly inaccurate."
"Rude," I said.
Lumine snorted beside me. "Honestly, I'm still trying to forget your explanation."
"I was setting the mood!"
"You said it was a country powered by 'sadness, gears, and daddy issues.'"
"And was I wrong?"
She stared at me.
Dainsleif, traitor that he is, kept walking and started dropping actual lore like breadcrumbs for Paimon to gobble up.
"Khaenri'ah was an underground civilization," he began, tone so serious I felt like I was in a National Geographic documentary. "One untouched by the gods. A nation of pure humanity, driven by advancement, ingenuity, and a dream to break free from Celestia's control."
"Mmm," I nodded, pretending to understand while mentally replacing every word with 'lore', 'lore', 'sad', 'lore'.
"I... remember some of it," Lumine said quietly.
We all stopped.
She was frowning, her brows furrowed like she was searching a dusty file cabinet in her brain.
"Not everything. Just... glimpses. Buildings. Names. A symbol. It feels... faded. Like a dream I woke up from a long time ago."
I stared at her.
It's not every day Lumine shows vulnerability. And honestly? It kinda hit.
Paimon floated closer. "You really remember something?"
Lumine nodded. "I think I lived there. Before the fall. Maybe not for long, but I was there."
Dainsleif regarded her quietly. "It would make sense. Your journey through the stars began before the Cataclysm."
Cue existential dread.
"Wait, wait, wait," I said, throwing my hands up. "Are we just casually talking about ancient space travel and pre-apocalypse star kids like it's a regular Tuesday?"
"It is Tuesday," Paimon whispered.
I hate everyone here.
We kept walking, and Dain did what Dain does best: throw chunks of lore at us like breadcrumb bombs.
"The Ruin Guards you see today were never meant to be weapons of destruction," he said.
"Excuse me?" I blinked. "The thirty-foot death frisbees with missiles weren't for peace?"
"To Khaenri'ahns," he continued, ignoring me again (rude), "they were considered caretakers. They tilled the land. Helped cities. Protected their creators."
Lumine tilted her head. "Then why do they attack everyone now?"
"Because after the Cataclysm, they lost purpose. Their directives were corrupted."
"So... basically," I summarized, "they got hit with the world's worst software update."
"That is one way to put it."
I high-fived myself mentally.
Then Paimon screamed.
"ABYSS MAGES!"
Oh boy.
Three of them. Pyro, Cryo, Electro. The full damn starter pack. Floating in front of a weird glowing pedestal covered in Abyss script and the aesthetic of a cursed scrapbook.
Lumine whipped out her sword. I followed, trying not to wheeze too loudly.
The fight was fast, flashy, and full of screaming.
Mostly mine.
One mage tried to trap me in a bubble, but jokes on him—I have emotionally burst so many bubbles I'm basically immune.
We defeated them.
And then we saw it.
A talisman. Still pulsing with some leftover Abyssal energy, etched with words we could only barely read.
Loom of Fate.
I pointed at it like it personally owed me Mora.
"See? SEE?! I told you they're into that ominous scarf project thing again!"
Paimon blinked. "Scarf project?"
"You know! Loom. Weaving. Fate. Ugh, never mind, my brain is melting."
Lumine leaned in to examine it. "It looks like a location marker. They're narrowing down something."
"Goddamn," I muttered. "They're totally into it now. We better hurry!"
I stood up like a dramatic anime protagonist, wind blowing through my hair (which was probably just a breeze from Lumine swinging her sword earlier).
"We need to find the Eye of the First Field Tiller!"
Everyone paused.
Dainsleif blinked. "How do you know about that?"
"I do my research!"
"You mean you eavesdrop on hidden voice lines and stare at loading screen trivia you kept on mentioning?!" Paimon hissed at me.
"Don't question my methods!"
The talisman pulsed again.
And we knew this wasn't just a scavenger hunt anymore.
The Abyss wasn't searching randomly. They had coordinates. Purpose. A clear goal.
And we were officially on a race against them.
"Alright," I said, cracking my knuckles, ignoring how every joint made a sound like an old haunted piano. "No more breaks. No more detours. We find that Eye, we stop the Abyss, we save Teyvat, and I get a vacation."
Paimon blinked. "A vacation? Now?"
"I've earned it!"
Lumine smiled. "If we survive this... sure."
And then she walked ahead.
Leaving me.
Once again.
With Dainsleif, who absolutely looked like he wanted to say something deep and cryptic again.
"Please don't," I whispered.
He said nothing.
Small victories.
And just like that, our journey continued.
Toward the Eye.
Toward the Loom.
Toward chaos.
...And hopefully, away from anything that wants to beat me up for the third time in a row.
_______________________
End of Chapter 35
Quests Completed:
*Lore Interrogation via Threatening Lumine's Future Love Life.
*Got absolutely wrecked by Aether.
*Shared partial info with the party (while withholding the big juicy lore bits)
*Learned about the Abyss Mages' suspicious artifact search
*Realized that the Loom of Fate is more real than my chances at surviving another fight with Aether
Rewards:
* 3 Broken Ribs (and 1 broken ego)
*Lore Buff: +5 Knowledge thanks to Dain's Monologue Dump
*Existential Crisis x1
*Passive Skill Unlocked: "Lore Dump Absorption (Unstable)"
*New Lead: Eye of the First Field Tiller