Starsnatch Cliff was one of the highest places in all of Mondstadt.
A stone blade rising straight into the sky, standing in the embrace of the wind.
Evening light spilled over the clifftop like gold. Clouds at the horizon burned orange-red, slowly drifting past, and in the very distance — over seas no one had fully mapped — faint outlines of unknown islands lay like promises of future adventures.
All around them, white Cecilia flowers swayed gently.
Petals like starlight, scent like cold wind.
Paimon spun in the air, little legs kicking. "Woooow! This place is so pretty! You can see the whole of Mondstadt from here!"
Jean let the wind brush over her gloves and nodded. "Starsnatch Cliff… the bards say this is where many bonds were made — and broken."
She glanced sideways at Venti.
Diluc stood on the edge, cape fluttering, watching far out over the wine country. Sunset lit his profile, making him look even more severe.
"It fits the theme of 'reuniting with fate,' doesn't it?" Venti chuckled. "All right — let's begin."
Jean's shoulders relaxed a little. "No matter what happens… at least we have a chance now. Mondstadt has been under too much pressure lately."
Stormterror attacking the city center. The Fatui probing and provoking. As Acting Grand Master, she'd been carrying it all.
"Funny," Diluc said quietly, "in the end it's the Traveler, an… unusual adventurer, and a singing drunk who get things done. The Knights get to say they tried."
"Eeeeh, no more grumpy talk," Venti said, smile bright again. He hopped up to the very edge of the cliff, the highest place, arms spread, coat and ribbons snapping in the high-altitude wind.
"Stand back a bit—"
His green eyes gleamed mischievously. "Teyvat's greatest bard is about to play."
He touched the Skyward Lyre.
Wind gathered from every direction.
Strings hummed, first softly, then deeper, the notes carried by Anemo itself. For a heartbeat, even the air seemed to hold its breath to listen.
The melody spilled out — part nightingale, part wind's own murmur — gentle, far-reaching, echoing over the entire clifftop.
Then the wind moved.
Whoooo—
Air currents rolled, grass bent, Cecilia flowers bowed. Below the cliff, Anemo surged and twisted into a roaring tornado that shot straight up toward the clouds.
"ROAAAR!"
A colossal shadow burst out of the spiral.
Stormterror — Dvalin — tore into the sky, wings spanning half the horizon. A single flap sent a wall of wind across the clifftop, forcing everyone to raise their arms.
From high above, the dragon looked down on them, eyes cold, killing intent undiluted.
"It's you…"
The voice was low and stormy, every word wrapped in anger. "At this point… there's nothing left to talk about!"
But Venti didn't flinch.
He just looked up at Dvalin with that maddeningly soft gaze.
"Is that so~? Then why…" He lifted the lyre again, fingers light. "Why do your eyes look like they remember this song?"
The sound carried, and Dvalin's wings slowed for a moment.
Somewhere in the dragon's mind, under layers of corruption and whispers, a warm, old image flickered — someone it trusted, someone it flew with, someone who sang to it.
Jean's eyes flashed.
So it was true.
This bard was Barbatos.
And then—
ZING!
A sharp, ice-blue beam cut right through the sunset.
"—!"
The blast slammed straight into the Skyward Lyre.
Frost crawled over the strings in an instant. The lyre's glow died. It slipped from Venti's hand, clattered across the stone, and lay there like a fallen relic.
The music cut off.
And so did the wind.
"What—?!"
"The lyre!"
Paimon clapped both hands over her mouth.
Jean's expression went cold.
Diluc's brows dropped dangerously.
Venti sighed, eyes lifting toward the air just behind Dvalin.
"Hehehe…"
A chilly laugh drifted on the wind.
A warped surge of elemental power rippled, and a figure stepped out of it — floating in midair behind the dragon's wings.
A Cryo Abyss Mage.
Blue-white robes fluttered around it. A dark mask hid its face; two blue flames burned where eyes should be. In its hand, the Cryo staff still glimmered with the after-image of the ice beam it had just fired.
"Don't be fooled again… poor dragon…" the Abyss Mage said, voice like ice cracking. "He abandoned you long ago. And now he wants to trick you again."
Its tone dragged, full of malice. That ghost-light gaze bored into Dvalin's heart, stabbing at the dragon's oldest hurt.
Dvalin's pupils tightened.
The conflict the song had stirred — gone in an instant, drowned by rage.
"Barbatos!"
The dragon roared, wings slamming. A barrage of wind blades tore toward the cliff like a field of knives.
"Brace!"
Jean reacted first, Anemo gathering at her arms and forming a shield.
Lumine drew her sword.
Diluc's claymore ignited, flames roaring to life.
The Abyss Mage laughed. "Hate. Be angry. You have no way back now."
Dvalin looked down at them — at Venti, at Jean, at Diluc, at the Traveler — and his eyes burned.
"These people… they came with you… to hunt me?!"
"Dvalin, no—" Venti shook his head into the storm. "That's not—"
But the Abyss Mage had already moved.
It vaulted onto Dvalin's back, hand pressing to the dragon's scales, chanting in a language the wind itself didn't like.
"This dragon will serve its true master… You lot can stay here—"
It paused.
The hooded face turned, as if only now noticing someone on the cliff.
"—but you, boy."
Its blue gaze locked onto Kairo.
"The one who makes explosions twist with strange Destruction energy… The Abyss needs you."
Kairo: "…Seriously?"
He'd been quiet the whole time, watching the lyre get frozen, watching the dragon get stirred up — and suddenly he was the one getting recruited?
Great. The Abyss has me marked.
The Mage raised its staff. Frost howled, converging around Kairo's position. A circular ice-field bloomed over the cliff, like it was trying to drop a Cryo cage right on top of him.
Kairo didn't roll.
He didn't shout.
He just… vanished.
Like someone took an eraser to reality.
"—What?!"
The Cryo field crashed down on empty stone.
Jean blinked.
Diluc blinked.
They'd seen Kairo's invisibility before — but dodging a full Abyss spell like that, without even a ripple of Anemo or Geo? That was on a different level.
The Abyss Mage stared at the spot, then gave an annoyed laugh.
"Fine. Next time, then."
It pushed more power into Dvalin, cold seeping through the dragon's back.
"Go. Serve. And let them all stay here to curse their weakness."
Dvalin roared, wings spreading to their full span. Wind blasted over the cliff, carving lines into the stone, flattening flowers.
Jean threw more Anemo in front of everyone, teeth gritted.
Venti lunged to grab the fallen lyre, clutching it to his chest, face tight — that ice beam had hurt him, too.
They could only watch as the dragon surged upward, almost out of range—
And then.
BANG!
A single, razor-bright shot tore through the sky.
On the edge of the cliff, where there had been nothing — Kairo reappeared.
He stood sideways to the wind, coat flapping, one knee slightly bent for recoil, holding a long, silver-and-black rifle that absolutely did not belong to this world.
Bronya's gauss-bayonet lever rifle. A Path-of-Preservation weapon. Self-repairing. Able to load any power as a round.
Smoke still curled from the barrel.
Kairo's eyes were narrowed, locked on the countermark only he could see — the brand his new talent had slapped on the Abyss Mage the moment it attacked him.
That was the good thing about Clara's power:
Hit me once. I find you, no matter where you fly.
He'd folded himself into invisibility with Seele's "Phantom" skill, stacked the brand, and in that instant poured the Preservation-path force into Bronya's gun.
The bullet tracked the mark.
It didn't care that the target was on a fleeing dragon.
It didn't care about height, angle, or wind.
It just found.
The shot detonated on the Abyss Mage's chest.
"Wha—?!"
The mage's Cryo shield flared — and then froze in place, bound by a power deeper than elemental tricks.
This wasn't Anemo or Pyro.
This was Preservation — the power that restrains, protects, and, when needed, crushes.
The mage tried to draw on the Abyss again.
Nothing answered.
"What is this power?! This is impossible—!"
Too late.
"BOOM!"
White light blew out from Dvalin's back like a bomb going off in the air.
The Cryo Abyss Mage was ripped apart midair — mask, robe, ice, and black fragments all shredded and scattered by the wind. The high-altitude gale caught every last piece and flung it away into the clouds until there was nothing left.
Dvalin screamed, suddenly free of that cold pressure, wings beating wildly. Still furious, still in pain, but no longer puppeted, the dragon shot higher, straight into the sky, disappearing into the cloud layer.
The storm quieted.
Cecilia flowers slowly lifted their heads again.
Paimon floated there, mouth huge. "D-Did… did Kairo just… one-shot an Abyss Mage?!"
Jean looked at Kairo, serious and a little shaken. Diluc, too — eyes narrowed, clearly memorizing that rifle.
Venti let out a slow breath, clutching his lyre. "...You really are full of surprises, aren't you?"
Kairo eased the lever on the rifle back into place, smoke fading from the barrel. "He wanted me to 'stay' for the Abyss," he said lightly. "I said no."
And because the Abyss Mage had attacked him first…
…the mark had signed its own death.
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