"Waaah! It's so lively here!"
"But why are there so many things I've never seen in other nations?"
Hovering beside the road like a white, flying emergency ration, the Traveler's mascot—Paimon, the so-called "mouth of a god"—gawked openly. She knew the broad strokes of Teyvat—its Seven Nations, their archons, the big festivals. Mondstadt, for instance, was the City of Wind and Song.
So what were these vast belts of smooth, gray roads? Those gigantic windmills spinning over Windrise? And the massive waterwheels churning on Cider Lake?
Was this still the Mondstadt she knew? Still the same Teyvat?
The golden-haired girl in white and gold at Paimon's side—Lumine—was equally intrigued. The sights along the road had upended her expectations. She had assumed Teyvat was a western-fantasy world of sword and sorcery. Yet what she saw looked suspiciously like a modern city wearing fantasy's skin.
Those colossal windmills and waterwheels… if her guess was right, they were for generating power. Had Mondstadt begun using electricity?
This didn't feel like a backward world of steel and spells at all.
Lumine pointed toward a distant array of white turbines. "Those are for power, aren't they?"
"Bingo! Didn't think you'd recognize them," Amber said, puffing up a little with pride. "They generate electricity. Mondstadt is fully powered now—no more fear of the dark at night."
In the past month, Albedo hadn't been idle. Engines were only the start; by analogy he'd reverse-engineered wind turbines and hydro generators as well. Storage stations and a tangle of power-related devices followed one after another. Rowan had just handed him the next research track—signal base stations. If they succeeded, then phones, radios, even television would follow. Someday soon, Mondstadt would be watching Teyvat's weather forecast—and idol audition shows.
"Whoaa! Amazing!" Paimon spun in the air, eyes sparkling. "I can't wait to get inside! Amber, can we go in now?"
"Almost. First, registration. This way."
Amber resisted the urge to keep lecturing on the transformation of Mondstadt. Guests shouldn't be kept standing outside the gate.
Lumine and Paimon followed her toward the checkpoint.
Far away, on a rooftop with a long view of the queue, a man dressed nearly identical to Lumine watched in silence.
"Hey, your sister's here. Not going to say hi?" Rowan clapped the man's shoulder, half-teasing. "What's the fun in skulking?"
"We will meet again," Aether murmured. "But not now. If I show myself, everything grows complicated."
"Before the Abyss drowns the throne, there's still a war between me and the Sustainer of Heavenly Principles. She's not ready to know more."
His face, normally as cold as the stars, softened as he watched Lumine in line—gentleness reserved for his sister alone.
"Tch. You're just playing the aloof riddler," Rowan said. "Why not explain everything? Let her misunderstand you, become your enemy—what if she runs you through before you can talk?"
Aether's gaze engraved Lumine's silhouette into memory. Then he turned, eyes cooling as they settled on Rowan. "If not for you, my plan to arm Dvalin would not have failed. I'll have to skip Mondstadt entirely now."
"I know you don't care about me—and you aren't afraid of me. But don't get in my way again. Or even if I can't beat you, I'll still stake everything for a fight."
A pitch-black fissure yawned open behind him and swallowed him whole. Aether vanished.
"Tsk, protagonist gone contrarian," Rowan drawled. "Knows he can't win and still talks tough. Keep posturing."
He looked back toward the gate. "Didn't expect Lumine to arrive this soon."
"So… that little one—could she be Asmoday?" he asked idly.
A golden figure stepped into view where the rift had been. Istaroth stood there, eyes complicated as she studied the small shape flitting beside Lumine.
"No," she said at last. "Not him. But she very well might be…"
Istaroth felt no trace of the Sustainer's essence from Paimon. She did feel it from Aether. Which begged the question—had the Abyss Order tangled itself up with Asmoday somehow?
What was going on?
"Oh? So we're thinking the same thing." Rowan smiled faintly. "That little one is likely her."
People had long theorized about Paimon's true nature. Some guessed Istaroth—because Paimon could "pause" time in the world of play. Others insisted on the Sustainer of Heavenly Principles, though the argument was weak—most believed the one who stopped the twins at the start had been the Sustainer.
But after the appearance of the Four Shades, the trail of hints had shifted. Paimon bore too many traits reminiscent of the Shades—reflections of Phanes. And if the Shades were Phanes's shadows…
Then a fusion of those traits pointed back to Phanes itself.
Which meant the little mascot might well be a new incarnation of Phanes—guiding the Traveler, preparing her to ultimately take the mantle of creator and save Teyvat.
Of course, it was only Rowan's conjecture. The truth was anyone's guess.
"Similar," Istaroth admitted. "But I can't feel her presence."
She shook her head. "Forget it. Let's go back."
(End of Chapter)
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