Chapter Text
“Do you see down there?” The God said, not pointing to any specific spot below. Beside him, young Alatus with his spear still held tightly in his hand nodded immediately, agreeing with the God without truly understanding what he was supposed to see. One of his habits of wandering in the wilderness—especially in high mountains—was something they both shared, so they often crossed paths by accident.
“It is all Liyue,” The God said again, almost in awe, acting as if he had suddenly won a prize in the form of a vast territory rather than fought for it through thousands of years of bloody war. “Not just the small town at the edge of the harbor, but all the land you see here will be Liyue.”
It’s... vast. Over time, the Guili Assembly might have expanded in territory, but it was never this large—considering his Lord was not a fan of seizing territories from the gods he had killed. And now, he wasn’t just leading one territory but all the land they could see below, bordered by the Mondstadt plains, the Fontaine waterfalls, and the Sumeru rainforests.
“It’s... a lot of responsibilities, don’t you think?”
His Lord tilted his head, half glancing in his direction, and once again, he nodded quickly. “Yes, My Lord.”
“They gave me the remnants of the Geo Sovereign, bound me with the chains of Archon leadership, granted vast lands and great responsibilities... and acted as if it was a gift.” His Master took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly, though his face remained expressionless. “All the prices I had to pay just to be in this position...”
Xiao lowered his gaze, his hands slightly clenched, recalling the last war they had to win before Morax became the sole remaining god in this region. The brutal war drove his brother and sister insane, causing them to kill each other.
“All I did was in the name of the people I vowed to protect.”
As he looked at the harbor town being built below, the newly established governance system, humans and adepti building structures together, making roads, planting crops, conducting transactions—Xiao had just witnessed with his own eyes and mind how an era of peace, with humans as the main actors, was starting.
Looking in the same direction as him, his Master smiled, with an expression in his eyes that Xiao couldn't quite understand.
“To cleanse the land, and defend our safe harbor. That is my first contract in Liyue.”
Xiao looked at his Lord, shining like gold in the golden-brown robes he always wore as a tribute to his late designer who fell in battle. No matter how often, how close, or how long he stared at his Master, his admiration would never change. Morax was the one who saved him and gave him a second chance at life. And for that, he would dedicate his entire life to staying by his side.
“And that shall be my contract too, My Lord.”
And here Xiao stood, two thousand years in the past, in the same place, before all of that happened—something he now realized might never come to be.
Below, the harbor city had not yet been built. No ships dared to come and go, given that the southern sea was ruled by Osial. Xiao wondered if the sea trade here would start to take shape now that the god had been defeated. In the distance, the great walls of the Guili Assembly were visible, clearly displayed for anyone seeking refuge or looking for trouble.
In the future, he often stood in the same place. During the day, when Wangshu Inn was too boring, he would come here, watching the bustling trade of the ever-awake harbor city. From this height, he often observed many things—how the Qixing operated, Ganyu adapting to humans, or occasionally something amusing, like seeing senior Adepti like Cloud Retainer, Moon Carver, and Mountain Shaper take on human forms and wander through the harbor.
Or his Lord.
Ah, to be honest, sometimes that was the main reason Xiao visited Liyue Harbor. He wanted to see his master, to be beside him again, to fight alongside him—which was impossible now that the battle was over and they had won. A general had no purpose after the war ended, so he focused on helping Rex Lapis in the only way he knew—by killing.
Zhongli, that was the man's name, was sometimes seen amidst the crowds. Walking the streets of Liyue as a mortal, buying food, drinking tea while listening to stories, and running errands for that childish Director of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. Xiao missed him, missed his Morax, even though now his Lord lived a calm and peaceful life as Zhongli, deep in his heart, he could not accept that Rex Lapis had passed away and handed over leadership to those arrogant Qixing.
He wouldn’t be, anymore.
Now that Liyue would not happen, and Guizhong, Marchosius, all his yaksha brothers, Pervases, and the other Adepti would be saved by Morax, perhaps his master would no longer be lonely. He was no longer alone, bearing the burden of leadership all by himself. Perhaps, two thousand years from now, Morax wouldn’t end up killing himself. Perhaps, Zhongli wouldn’t exist.
“Forgive me, My Lord,” he said, whispering into the wind that would carry his words to the future. “I have failed to fulfill my contract.”
Would his Lord be angry and give him the wrath of the rock?
Would he punish him?
Would he believe him if Xiao said that it was because of his past self that he had failed to protect the people of Liyue?
More than two thousand years, billions of people from all over Liyue, hundreds of generations—and all of them would vanish just because this foolish, insignificant, and selfish being failed in his duty. The only mercy his Lord showed was that as a punishment and consequence of his actions: that even he himself would not exist in the future.
“Farewell,” he said. To Liyue, to the city that would never be built, to all the people who would never be born, to the Xiao who would not exist in the future.
He could only hope that Alatus, wherever he was now, would receive the mercy of dying sooner at the hands of his former master. Or that Morax, after hearing his words that day, would be kind enough to grant him freedom—or death. That, too, was fine for him. Better that he die at Morax's hands than at those of another cruel god.
The wind blew, tousling his hair that had begun to grow longer, along with the white-teal hanfu given to him by Menogias. His Vision glowed, now brighter than usual. His adeptal energy had started to return, though still in small amounts. Even so, he knew the other adepti in the Assembly would be able to sense it and realize he was an Adeptus—something that made him prefer staying on the outskirts, despite Morax asking him to return.
That, and Xiao felt he wouldn't be able to say goodbye if he saw their faces once again.
This time, however, it was he who would be leaving, and they who would live.
"Know that my element is Geo, thus I cannot hear the words when you whisper them to the wind."
Xiao was startled, quickly turning to find his Lord standing a few steps behind him, completely masking his aura so that Xiao didn't sense his presence.
"Lord Morax," he bowed his head, and kept it lowered as the god now walked closer and stood beside him, both gazing at the vast expanse below.
The same position, the same person, yet a different time, a different soul.
"So this is it," the God said, looking down from the high peak of Mount Tianheng. "Liyue Harbor?"
Beside him, Xiao nodded slightly. "Yes, My Lord."
He hummed, looking calm and neutral as always—though there was something there, something Xiao couldn't quite interpret, as the god carefully examined the coastal region below.
"The others are looking for you," Morax shifted his attention from the view below to Xiao at his side. "It's remarkable how, even with you here for only a brief time, they can sense that you are a part of them."
Xiao remained silent, slightly surprised because despite the lack of expression on his face, the amber eyes conveyed something else.
Pity.
The god beside him was pitying him.
"You do not want to say goodbye?"
Ah, yes. Goodbye.
His time here was over. His task had failed, and he was not meant to interfere in the fate of a world with a history so diverged from its original course. His time here had reached its end, and he knew he had to leave while he still could.
Xiao bit his lower lip a little, hard enough to draw blood that brought him back to his right mind, holding himself back from agreeing with everything this god beside him said.
He is not his Lord, his mind told him. He is not his Morax.
"Goodbye is something that is not needed at all," Xiao muttered softly, yet loud enough for the god beside him to hear. "I do not belong here. And I do not want to leave any more traces—more than I have already left."
The longer they went without meeting, the better. The less they knew each other, the better. It was enough that Morax knew who he truly was. Xiao did not want the others to know and complicate things more than they already were.
"Rather than goodbye..." he continued, now mustering the courage to move his body, facing the god beside him. "Perhaps, if you would allow it, I would beg for forgiveness."
The god hummed. "You have done nothing wrong to them."
"It's not theirs. It's yours, My Lord."
There was a slight expression of surprise on his master's face when he heard that. Xiao didn't understand why, but if he could guess, perhaps, perhaps his master felt a little guilty about everything that had happened, even though none of it was his fault. Rather, it was Xiao’s fault.
"For warning me? For talking back to me?" his master looked at him as if he were the greatest mystery he had ever encountered. "For lying to me and concealing the truth?"
"For not fulfilling your contract."
The god before him closed his eyes for a moment, a slight furrow appearing on his brow. Then, accompanied by a deep breath, the corner of his lips moved slightly into a smile—not a happy one, but not a sad one either.
"A contract is a promise bound by law," he said, with a voice and words eerily reminiscent of what Xiao's master had once spoken in the future. "And as long as that law has not been enacted, your contract, his contract, means nothing here."
"Perhaps not for now," Xiao clenched his hands tightly at his sides. "But it is real to me, and it has been real since two thousand years ago, when you and I stood in the same place. It was your first contract for Liyue, thus shall be mine, and shall be my last before I..."
Xiao didn’t finish his words, his voice cutting off. His heart refused to speak, though his mind knew what he was going to say, what was going to happen. It was remarkable how, after all this time, after everything he had been through, his heart still functioned and still had a say in controlling his body. He thought that the organ had gone numb and had given up on everything.
This wasn’t what he was supposed to feel. Facing death had perhaps been his greatest desire ever since he was enslaved. And since his fellow yakshas had left him, one by one, and his body had absorbed too much karma to the point where he thought he would finally go mad and die from it—each time, he had always been saved. And because of that, he always felt helpless, a burden to others, and useless. Now that the war was over, perhaps it was Xiao's time to leave the world. That’s what had always been in his mind.
But now that his life was at the finish line... one he could see before him… Xiao couldn’t help but think—
He does not want to die.
He did not want to die yet. Not when he had left behind a contract, one he had failed to fulfill. He was the last yaksha. If he died and left a crystal heart behind because of an unfulfilled wish, there would be no one to carry on his ambition. No one to continue his master’s contract.
But he doesn’t have to.
His Yaksha brothers and sisters would not leave before him. Indarias wouldn’t be consumed by karma, go mad, and take her own life. Bonanus and Menogias wouldn’t lose control and kill each other. Bosacius wouldn’t need to go and seal himself in the Chasm, sacrificing his life to save Liyue. Guizhong wouldn’t die alone, surrounded by enemies, and Marchosius wouldn’t sacrifice all his adeptal energy to save them from a devastating flood.
Xiao looked at the god before him, shining like gold, strong, unbreakable, and immovable like the earth itself.
Unshakable, even by time.
If there was one person he trusted, far more than himself, it was Morax. If he had to entrust his soul, and his body to someone he trusted, it would be Morax. And if he had to burden someone with the duty of shaping a better, happier future than the one he had known, it would be Morax himself.
"Thank you," he said, the words slipping from his mouth unconsciously.
When his will to fight, to maintain his selfish desire to save the flow of history had crumbled, and his mind had begun to acknowledge that amidst failure and despair, there was something deep within his heart that he was truly grateful for.
"Thank you for saving them. Thank you for promising to prevent anything from happening to them, for promising to correct the mistakes made by your other self."
Now that he knew he didn't have much time left, Xiao gathered the courage to say what he had always turned over in his mind every time the god before him crossed his thoughts or appeared before his eyes.
"Thank you, My Lord. For everything. I know I wish I could say this to your other self, the words I never spoke to in all those thousands of years beside him. But know that I am grateful, and forever indebted to him who gave me a second chance at life."
And for the first time, after thousands of years of shielding himself from emotions, considering them a weakness, he allowed himself to be immersed in them, feeling the water flow from the corners of his eyes, trickling down his cheeks.
"I wish you could tell him that."
His lips trembled, his hands, his shoulders. His whole body shook. For the last time, he thought.
For the last time, he looked at the god before him, recalling the first time they met, when he was overwhelmed by the god's aura, when the god had first granted him freedom.
For the last time, Xiao allowed himself to make a mess of himself, tears streaming down—so unbefitting of his title, his duties, his responsibilities as an Adeptus and guardian yaksha.
Before him, Morax watched in silence. His gaze was intense, though he revealed no trace of emotion. He made no attempt to console him or chastise him for behaving this way in front of a god. If the Morax before him still resented Xiao for seeing him as the same person as his master, he didn't show it. Instead, the god before him stepped forward, opening both of his hands in front of Xiao.
Xiao's gaze was drawn to the black hands, the veins glowing gold, extended before him, waiting for his unworthy hands to reach out. For a moment, Xiao hesitated. He felt fear, worry, and a deep sense of unworthiness. Until the most selfish part of himself commanded his mind, forcing his hand to move, to touch that hand just as Morax had first offered it, helping him rise after the god had killed his former master.
As their hands touched, golden light shone from the contact point, and Xiao felt as if he was reborn, for the third time. Adeptal energy flowed into his body, filling even the smallest, most exhausted cells of his weary form. A god had once taken over his body, filling it with a cursed energy that rendered him powerless—but it wasn't like this. Not at all like this. Morax's strength made him feel whole again, returned to a state of prime vigor he could not recall feeling in recent memory.
As the golden light between them began to fade, Morax's hand gently squeezed his, trying to bring him back to awareness, to refocus his attention on the god. Then, compensating for their difference in height, the god leaned down slightly and grasped his shoulder.
"I think he would rather hear it from you directly," Morax said, squeezing his shoulder gently. "Don’t you agree?"
Xiao looked at him, eyes wide, still stunned by everything that had happened—and still overwhelmed by Morax's presence, now so close.
"I... I do not... My Lord...?"
Seeing his response, Morax gave a small smile, eerily similar to what Zhongli often did while mingling among humans, trying to blend in and be courteous. Then, ignoring Xiao’s confused expression, the god glanced down to his side, where his adeptal and elemental energy had been restored. The teal Anemo vision now glowed brightly, resonating with the winds of the past—and the future.
Xiao was astonished. After months stranded in the past, drained of all his elemental and adeptal energy, feeling alienated by the unfamiliar winds, now he felt at home, a familiarity as if the winds of the past and the future had both opened for him, ready to take him back.
Morax straightened, his hands slowly leaving Xiao's shoulders as the gusts between them grew stronger. They looked at each other, and this time Xiao knew it was truly the last time—seeing the smile on the face of the one who meant the most to him, for the very last time—
"Farewell, Xiao," the god said. "Until we meet again, two thousand years in the future."
—before a vortex of wind seemed to form around him, as if pulling him away. The time within the wind called him back, and he knew he had no power to resist it.
Replaying Morax's final words in his mind, Xiao looked at the god one more time, smiling and nodding confidently.
Farewell,
Then he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and found his courage.
He teleported back into the void.
Into his nonexistence.
When his mind regained control of his body, the first thing Xiao felt was pain.
How excruciating it was, to realize just how much dying hurt.
Then, as his muscles began to function again—making his fingers twitch, his eyelids struggle to open, and his head throb—Xiao couldn't help but groan.
His eyelids parted, revealing the night sky above him. Xiao lay in an open area, where he could hear something faint in the distance. A buzzing, a yell, or perhaps a scream—or maybe nothing at all, considering his ears were ringing with a high-pitched frequency that only worsened his dizziness. He took deep breaths, trying to stay conscious as his mind pieced together the facts.
He wasn’t dead.
He was alive.
Breathing and feeling pain were good signs that, despite everything, he was still living. Very much alive. Even though every muscle in his body felt like it had been pierced by a thousand blades and his breath came in ragged gasps, he felt that maybe his life wouldn’t last much longer.
He was alive.
But how could that be?
Xiao groaned again. His head pounded. Something inside him pulled at him, gnawing at his soul from within. Just before he plunged into darkness once more, he heard a shout—a voice that shouldn’t be possible, saying words that were even more impossible.
"Alatus!"
"Alatus?"
When his mind took control of his body again, this time he found himself lying on something softer and dry. His head still hurt, a dull, throbbing pain that made unconsciousness seem like a kinder option. But at least the feeling that something inside him wanted to tear his body apart was no longer there.
"Little bird, you hear me?"
His vision blurred, but he could make out movement within his line of sight. Someone—no, several people, in fact.
The pounding in his head began to ease, and he groaned, trying to sit up while slowly reaching for his throbbing head. Seeing his attempts, the people surrounding him gave him space to reorient himself.
Xiao lowered his gaze, rubbing his face to regain his focus. He blinked and finally managed to bring his eyes into focus—and he was convinced he had to be dead.
In front of him stood Indarias, her brows furrowed, her eyes full of concern. "You alright?"
Xiao opened his mouth, then closed it again, wanting to reply but unsure if the figure before him was even real.
From beside him, he heard a sigh, and a hand gently rested on his shoulder, squeezing it lightly. "Give her time, Yìngdá." Xiao turned towards the voice on his right and immediately froze. "I'm sure he's alright."
Guizhong.
The goddess looked at him with a soft, calm smile—just as she always had.
What on Teyvat is happening...?
A large figure entered from the doorway, blocking the lamplight, causing a broad shadow to stretch across the wooden floor of the room, which felt oddly familiar to Xiao. Oh. Actually, no. Xiao was indeed familiar with this room—the same room the humans of the Qixing had set aside for him in recent decades, disguised as an inn.
"Is he awake?"
That voice...
Xiao looked up at the large figure approaching, seeing four muscular arms. Bosacius. And behind him trailed another familiar figure, wearing a long golden robe, his brown hair hanging loose past his shoulders. Menogias.
His gaze met his second eldest brother's, and immediately the Geo Yaksha smirked at him, clearly noting his disheveled state. "You look like a mess," he said, confirming Xiao's suspicions as he looked him up and down. "Fighting a group of Abyss monsters alone while your karma levels were sky-high—don’t you think that was a bad idea?"
Beside him, Bosacius sighed, crossing all four of his arms over his chest. "Well, he is reckless as always."
"Yeah, but I wish he wouldn’t keep ruining my creations every time he goes out and ends up like this," Menogias grunted. "Do I really have to create something that’s not only element-resistant but also bloodproof and tear-resistant?"
What... was happening?
Xiao couldn't make sense of everything unfolding around him. The last he remembered, he had died. And Liyue had ceased to exist.
"Alatus?" This time, it came from beside Indarias, and Xiao recognized the massive horns that adorned her head anywhere. Bonanus stood there, looking at him with worry, though her clawed hands hovered near him, hesitant to touch for fear of hurting him more.
Is this what they called the afterlife?
These people... they should be dead. This building shouldn’t be standing. And Xiao shouldn’t exist in this world any longer.
Alatus... why were they calling him Alatus?
As Xiao convinced himself he was in the afterlife, surrounded by those who had gone before him, someone entered the room, making everything feel more real, and at the same time, more impossible.
Zhongli.
—No, Morax. Because Zhongli wouldn’t wander around in the opulent robes of an emperor designed by Menogias, and he certainly wouldn’t appear with a pair of dragon horns atop his head, accompanied by piercing golden eyes that gleamed with geo-infused power.
“Dìjūn,” all four of his yaksha siblings stood up immediately as their lord entered the room.
Morax raised his hand, gesturing for them to return to their positions while his gaze remained fixed on Xiao. His expression was neutral, as always, but his presence here alone spoke of concern.
"He was unconscious a few kilometers from here, near the riverbank, where residents reported Abyss monster activity," Guizhong explained, her hand still gently resting on Xiao’s shoulder, grounding him in the reality that this wasn't just his imagination. "His karmic energy was too high, and as always, he put duty above everything..."
Morax stepped closer, and despite everything happening around him, Xiao's mind began replaying his last memories of his true lord—his visit that night before he had departed for the Chasm—and his other lord, who had said farewell only moments ago, or perhaps two thousand years ago; Xiao wasn't sure which was true. He also didn't know which version of his lord stood before him now.
The Geo Archon extended his hand, reaching towards Xiao’s face, only to pause mid-air, seemingly frozen in place. Morax hesitated, his hand hovering there, as Xiao felt energy begin to flow into his body, accompanied by a golden light emanating from the deity’s palm. The energy felt the same... the same as what he had received just before he had teleported to—wherever he was now.
After a moment’s hesitation, Morax finally touched his face, his hand caressing Xiao’s cheek softly—and in that instant, Xiao knew exactly who stood before him.
He was alive. His yaksha siblings were alive, and Guizhong was too.
He was alive, and he was here, with them.
Xiao couldn't stop the tears that began to flow down his cheeks. His lips trembled, and his eyes met those of the god before him, who still held his face with such gentle care, a faint smile curling on his lips.
Until we meet again, two thousand years in the future.
And now Xiao realized that at that moment, before sending him away, his lord had not just been offering empty words to comfort him.
He had been making a contract.
And here he was, Alatus, two thousand years in the future, after just moments ago being Xiao, two thousand years in the past—and his lord's contract with him had now come to fulfillment.
"Welcome back, Xiao."
And his lord’s voice back then rang in his mind.
I think he would rather hear it from you directly,
With tear-stained cheeks and a trembling, hoarse voice, he smiled and replied to his lord,
"Thank you, My Lord."