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Chapter Text

“You can really help me?”

A young woman sits before them in the funeral parlor, hands nervously shuffling a ring on and off her middle finger.

A typical client, Zhongli notes. Stiff posture radiating fearful energy. Eyes jumping with unease to the strange décor around the dark room. Voice trembling just so.

Hu Tao’s smile is predatory. It is surely off-putting to the client as the director leans forward and says a bit too enthusiastically, “But of course! Exorcisms are our specialty! And if you happen to die in the process, rest assured that coffins are half-price for exorcism clients!”

“C-coffins?” the client repeats.

Hu Tao nods. “We take care of our clients both here and in the afterlife. That’s the Wangsheng guarantee!”

The woman swallows and her eyes flick to Zhongli. It’s a common response when Hu Tao comes on too strong. 

Currently in the form of a thirty-year-old human in a sleek brown suit, he must appear much more responsible than the young director with her all-black suit, unnecessary amount of silver rings, and maniacal smile.

Zhongli clears his throat. “What Director Hu means to say is that our funeral parlor specializes in both ensuring that spirits move on peacefully and…dealing with the consequences when they don’t.”

The woman visibly relaxes. “Thank the gods. My applications to the other exorcism businesses have been rejected. I was thinking I’d have to live with this forever.”

Both Zhongli and Hu Tao tense at her words—for different reasons. He knows Hu Tao is probably offended that Wangsheng was the client’s last choice, and any mention of the exorcism industry grates at Zhongli’s neatly composed demeanor.

“Well, you wouldn’t want to deal with big business anyway,” Hu Tao says. “The base rate they charge is outrageous, not to mention the hidden fees. They make you sign the sketchiest contracts. And I know it’s basically heresy to suggest that the Qixing-backed industry would exploit its clients, but considering the state of things—especially environmentally—you’d be much better off—”

“The point,” Zhongli interrupts, “is that we can help you. And for a lot less money.”

“Do we have a deal?” Hu Tao offers a hand and her most sparkly smile.

The woman takes it as if scared of cutting herself on Hu Tao’s numerous rings.

“Excellent!” Hu Tao opens the thick, leather-bound book on the table in front of her to a new client request form. “Now, tell us about your problem.”

The client begins detailing the events of the past few weeks. It’s pretty mundane as far as the rampages of a disturbed spirit goes: a few broken windows and burst pipes. Not even an injury or a death. Hu Tao will be able to sort this out in an afternoon.

Zhongli’s mind wanders as the woman blabbers and Hu Tao takes notes. He always hates these client meetings. The exorcist work they do is all well and good, but he’d rather not think about for whom they’re doing it. Yet another desperate, pathetic human who needs to be saved.

In past centuries, he hasn’t minded helping humans. Well, that’s an understatement; as Morax, Rex Lapis, god and emperor of Liyue, he once dedicated his life to nurturing his human citizens.

But humans nowadays are greedy and corrupt and have lost all the honor their kind once had. They’ve claimed the earth like a parasite, and the world is unrecognizable from what it was when Morax went into hibernation three-hundred years ago.

Helping humans feels like an ironic farce after everything their kind did to his.

He doesn’t want to dwell on it, the absolute devastation of waking up seven years ago after 300 years of hibernation to find the world changed. His home had been destroyed, the ley lines of his mountains depleted. His people, the adepti of Liyue, had been driven extinct by the activity of humans.

He searched for his family upon waking, but he couldn’t find a single member of his species still alive. Hu Tao’s grandfather told him the last of his people disappeared over a hundred years ago. As far as he’s aware, Morax only survived because he hid himself in hibernation.

And now in disguise as the human Zhongli, Morax is forced to sit here and listen to a human complain about a problem that resulted from her own kind’s greed.

“Okay, looks good!” Hu Tao interrupts his thoughts. “If you’ll just sign here….”

The client looks nervous as she puts her stamp on the form. Zhongli should probably reassure her that Hu Tao is trustworthy, but he can’t bring himself to put forth the effort. Licai, he sees her name stamped.

“Next, I’ll need you to send me a copy of the floor plan so I can sort out the right equipment for your house,” Hu Tao says. “What direction do your windows face?”

“North, I think.” Licai frowns. “Why?”

“Oh dear, that’s very bad.” Hu Tao’s cheerful demeanor doesn’t miss a beat as she says, “You’ll want to keep the windows closed and cover them up if possible.”

“W-why?” The client looks understandably panicked.

“Ah, we wouldn’t want to encourage the spirit with too much yin energy, now would we?”

Licai’s eyes widen further. “Y-you two are experts, right?” She swallows. “Why is this happening to my grandmother’s spirit? Why does this happen at all?”

“Ah, well.” Hu Tao glances at Zhongli, knowing just how he feels about this topic. “Do you know about the ley lines?”

The client nods.

“Spirits rely on the energy of the ley lines. When there’s not enough energy, the imbalance stops them from passing on peacefully.  They get lost in this realm, erode and give in to violent madness.”

Zhongli clenches his jaw to stop from himself from lecturing the client on exactly why there isn’t enough energy. Hu Tao always tactfully avoids the topic when they have to explain why their job exists in the first place.

It is human activity that has disturbed the spirits of those passed. Demons have always dwelt in this world, and Zhongli once dedicated much of his energy to vanquishing them when he was ruler of Liyue. The spirits of humans, adepti, and animals, however, never became malevolent in such numbers in past centuries.

As human civilization industrialized, they began tearing up the ley lines to exploit the qi that resonates within the earth. Spirits of the passed rely on the energy of the ley lines. So as the humans mined for qi, they disturbed the balance of nature, and the souls of the deceased became unable to pass on peacefully.

Spirit beings—adepti, youkai, djinn, faeries, a different name for each country but the same species—also feed on the qi of the ley lines. And so as the humans’ greed grew, they destroyed the natural habitat of Morax’s kin for their own gain.

It has happened in every nation of Teyvat. Humans industrialized and became stronger while the spirit beings’ power fell. The world is now ruled by corporations. Its guardians—gods once known as the Seven Archons—are a mere memory of a lost age.

Thus it is ironic that Zhongli’s current profession as an exorcist is solving a problem created by the same humans who drove his kind to extinction.

“Erode?” The client looks rightfully horrified. “My grandmother’s soul has eroded? That’s why she’s haunting me?”

“Ah, well.” Hu Tao frowns, always bad at comforting people. “It’s not permanent in that sense. Once we exorcise her, she will pass on and her soul will be healed in the afterlife.”

Licai looks no less terrified. “So she’ll be okay?”

“Probably.” Hu Tao’s cheerful grin returns with classic bad timing.

“P-probably?” The client gulps, face paling.

“Don’t worry, Ms. Licai.” Zhongli’s voice comes out smooth despite the sour taste in his mouth from bad memories. “We are professionals. The Wangsheng clan has handled cases much worse than yours for thousands of years.”

His phrasing isn’t much better, but the client relaxes. “That’s good to hear,” she says.

It’s true. Wangsheng Funeral Parlor is an ancient and honorable exorcism service, dating back thousands of years, before disturbed spirits became so commonplace. Zhongli was good friends with Hu Tao’s ancestors, which is why he stumbled to Wangsheng upon waking from hibernation.

In Zhongli’s opinion, Hu Tao and her grandfather before he died a few years ago are the only honorable humans left. They perform the proper rites to help people pass on, and they aid those who have been rejected by the big exorcism business. Wangsheng is small, but Hu Tao works her hardest every day to maintain the traditions that once kept this world safe.

That is why Zhongli will sit here even as his skin itches and listen to this client complain. Hu Tao gave Zhongli shelter when he was homeless and helpless, and as long as her job is to help humans, he will stand by her side.

Plus, Wangsheng needs clients. They’ve been teetering on the edge of bankruptcy for years. It’s to the point that Hu Tao has taken to going around offering flyers for coffins.

Most people see them as an eccentric, creepy funeral parlor. So anyone who’s willing to walk through their doors is desperate.

“Any more questions?” Hu Tao asks.

“Um,” the client begins, but the director is already standing.

“Excellent! We’ll see you in about a week then. Don’t forget to send the floor plan.”

The others follow Hu Tao out of parlor’s sitting room. Zhongli gives Licai a bow. She bows awkwardly back as Hu Tao pushes her out the door.

“See you soon! Try not to die, but if you do, remember the half-price coffins!”

After the door shuts, Hu Tao rubs her hands together with a satisfied smile. “Another successful meeting, eh Li-Li?”

“You scared her,” Zhongli says matter-of-factly. “She might not come back.”

Hu Tao pouts. “My best employee has no faith in me.”

“I am your only employee.”

“Then I order you to believe in me.”

He sighs with a small smile. “Yes, boss.”

Zhongli puts up with quite a lot from the young director, including her insistence on not only ignoring honorifics but calling him Li-Li. They met when she was ten, so she’s never been formal with him despite knowing that he is a six-thousand-year-old former god. He thought when she became director, she might grow up and treat him with some respect like her grandfather always did. But alas, she remains infuriating. Thankfully, he finds her personality fondly exasperating.

“Good.” Hu Tao flashes a smirk. “Now why don’t you get in our mascot costume and go hand out flyers?”

“Unfortunately,” he says, “that is where I draw the line.”

“Zhongli, dignity is a very expensive thing to maintain.” She floats over to the couch and picks up the file, the lilt of a joke in her voice. “We’ll go bankrupt if you try to hold on to it.”

“We have survived this far.” He allows lightness into his voice. “And now that I’ve been ordered to believe in you, I have faith that we’ll continue to endure no matter the obstacle.”

Hu Tao sighs loudly as she sorts through the papers. “You’re impossible, Li-Li. Remind me why I keep you on?”

“You wouldn’t get anything done without me?” He smiles. “I’m your only friend?”

She grins back in something pure and affectionate—a glimpse of the ten-year-old girl who found Zhongli collapsed on the street seven years ago and took him in.

“Fiiiine,” she sighs. “I’ll hand out flyers. You’re terrible at customer service anyway.”

He makes a sarcastically deep bow. “Should I finish sorting the incense?”

“Yeah, we’ll need that for tomorrow.” She sets the file on the table. “You’re making dinner tonight, by the way.”

“Of course, boss.”

Hu Tao stretches and stands. “Right, let’s get on. These coffins won’t sell themselves!”

His smile lingers as she dashes out of the room with enthusiasm and he moves to the incense cabinet.

It’s a tolerable life, Zhongli thinks to himself. Not one he ever wanted. Not one he ever imagined he’d have. But he found a home after everything he knew was destroyed. Hu Tao is good to him, and they carry on together, trying to make a difference in their small way.

Maybe someday his former strength will return. Maybe the fighting spirit of his days of endless war will flow through him once more. Maybe when that day comes, he will rise up and exact revenge for each adeptus the humans have slain.

For now, however…Morax is dead and Zhongli is a mere funeral parlor employee. Revenge and hope are distant, bitter dreams.

If only he could know that things have already been set in motion to shatter his world once again.

Chapter Text

“Hey, dumbass.”

Crack.

“Hey, dumbass!”

Crack.

“Childe, I’m talking to you!”

Ajax doesn’t look up from the scope as he adjusts to the next target. A measly distance of 300 meters. Every bullet hits the occipital lobe of the silhouette.

His finger moves one centimeter. Crack.

One eye on the scope, the other closed, he only has the faint whistle of a limb moving through air to anticipate the blow. He rolls immediately, abandoning the rifle propped on the ground.

Scaramouche huffs angrily when his kick doesn’t land. He glares down at Ajax like he’s the scum of the earth. “I said, get up and come with me, dumbass.”

“I’m busy.” Ajax gazes back in the calm, indifferent way that he knows will rile Scaramouche further.

His irascible colleague pinches the bridge of his nose. “Pierro wants you.”

Ajax rolls back to the rifle. “He can call me himself.”

He loves testing his ex-mentor’s patience with his newfound power as a recently promoted Harbinger. He never wanted this promotion, but it has its perks—like being able to tell Scaramouche no for once. A perk he will fully capitalize on.

Death glows in Scaramouche’s eyes. “My word is his word, idiot. Get up.”

“How long before my word becomes his word?” Ajax gets to his feet anyway. Being insolent is only entertaining for so long.

Most would ignore his insubordination, but Scaramouche is easy to annoy. And therefore the most fun.

“Hopefully never,” the shorter man hisses as he turns on his heel. “Don’t forget none of us voted to promote you.” His eyes glint as he looks back to make sure Ajax is following. “And most of us are waiting for you to fail. I would love the honor of dealing with your failure myself.”

Ajax just snorts as he falls in line next to the older Harbinger. Scaramouche has been threatening to kill him since he was forced to take him on as an apprentice ten years ago, and he’s survived this long.

Although, there’s been extra venom in his threats ever since the CEO decided Ajax would join the ranks of her closest servants.

“You know, if the Tsaritsa in her abundant wisdom decided to promote me, I must be doing things right.” Ajax decides to be helpful and not drop the conversation. “Are you disagreeing with the great and powerful CEO of Fatui Corp?”

Fatui Corp’s CEO. The boss. The mysterious, reclusive woman who runs the company with such an iron fist that she’s been nicknamed the Tsaritsa.

Scaramouche scoffs. “You always were an annoying little shit and you always will be, no matter how high she promotes you.”

“But you can’t do anything about it, can you? You’re not my mentor anymore. Doesn’t it bother you that you’re only sixth in line to the CEO?”

The state of the bulging vein in Scaramouche’s forehead is almost comical. “Could you shut your stupid fucking mouth for two seconds? We have work to do.”

Ajax decides he’s won. Irritating Scaramouche is one of the few pleasures left to him in life, and by the looks of it, he’s succeeded enough to call it a win.

They take the stairs out of Fatui Corp’s underground shooting range and into a long hallway connecting it to the main office. Despite being situated downtown in the capital, Fatui HQ is large enough to contain rooms much more impressive than even a 300 meter sniper range.

“Where are we going?” Ajax dares to ask a still irate Scaramouche.

“You’ll see” is the curt reply. And after a moment: “There’s a new mission for you.”

Ajax is disgruntled to hear the anger in Scaramouche’s voice replaced by quiet glee at the last sentence.

“A new mission?” It will be his first as a Harbinger. The thought inspires no passion. The only good thing about a mission is that he can get away from headquarters for a while.

What can only be described as a leer crosses Scaramouche’s face. He chuckles menacingly and says again, “You’ll see.”

So it’s dangerous. Perfect. Maybe he’ll get killed and never have to see Scaramouche again. What a lovely thought.

They soon arrive at the elevators that go to the top floor offices. Fatui Corp’s headquarters is offensively lavish, proof to the world of their wealth. In Snezhnaya, strength is everything, and rich is the new strong.

Every floor is marble. Every wall paneling mahogany. Every chandelier gold. Every curtain velvet. No expense is spared in anything they do. Money is but an object, and as the ruling corporation of the second-richest country on the continent, even the cost of this building was a drop in the ocean of their resources.

There’s ironically no need for this garish show of wealth; the name Fatui itself is enough to conjure up images of marble floors and gold elevator doors.

Ajax imagines just how far the money spent on this building could’ve gone in the neighborhood where he grew up. It would be enough to keep every one of the thousands of people there living in luxury for the rest of their lives. A slum transformed into a middle-class utopia instantly. But no, the Fatui need their marble floors.

They soon arrive on the top floor, reserved for the Harbingers’ offices. Ajax moved up here last month when he was given the smallest office. “Smallest,” of course, meaning basically a penthouse. He has no idea what to do with the massive space. He doesn’t need an office, but they insisted he fill it anyway. The wealth he has now makes him sick.

At least Ajax’s salary has lifted his family out of poverty. They are the reason he signed away his life to the Fatui, and now the explicit threat to their lives should he fail keeps him bound to his employers.

That, and the magical contract he signed when he was 14, binding him to the Tsaritsa’s service.

On paper, his position in the company is as some kind of accountant. But he’s never touched numbers or a financial operation in his life. Everyone who matters in Fatui Corp knows that the “accountant Ajax” is a cover for their assassin codenamed “Childe,” now the Harbinger Tartaglia.

Like the other Harbingers, his real work is very much off the books. A debtor here, an inconvenient politician there, even the occasional spirit being—Ajax’s job is to “take care of” any threats to the Fatui. The only numbers he deals with are body counts.

Scaramouche guides him to the largest office at the end of the hall. Pierro’s office is furnished like an old Snezhnayan aristocrat’s house from a century ago. It’s a stark contrast to the bright, lavish hallway. Dark and overbearing, just like him.

The windows would provide a stunning view of the city below, but Pierro has ruined his corner office by putting heavy drapes over the windows. Past the drapes, Ajax can see only glimpses of the surrounding skyscrapers, harsh grey tumble of city, and snowy mountains on the horizon.

“You’re late.” Pierro makes a dramatic display of swiveling around in his tall leather chair. The large, pale-haired man surveys them with wintry eyes.

“Where’s the boss?” Scaramouche glances around the cluttered office.

“The CEO will not be joining us. She has entrusted this meeting to me.” Pierro leans forward to pick up a file. “Sit.”

“Then what the fuck am I doing here?” Scaramouche’s angry vein is back. “I’m not your errand boy. You want Childe, you get him yourself. I’m not his handler anymore.”

Ironically, just what Ajax himself said. But if there’s a fight to be had, Scaramouche will take it, even switching sides depending on the opponent.

Pierro sighs without looking up. “The mission pertains to Subjects 412 and 413, your test subjects. So sit.”

He’s not ever one to say please, is he? Ajax sits, more amused at how irritated Scaramouche is than resentful at being given orders himself. The other man follows a second later.

“Tartaglia.” Pierro’s icy gaze moves to him.

“Don’t call me that.” The words slip out before he can stop them.

“Why not?” His laugh is a deep grate. “It’s your name, isn’t it?”

Ajax fixes his eyes on the mahogany desk and bites back a retort. “I prefer Childe.”

“You’re one of us now, dear Tartaglia. One of the inner circle who has received the honor of a name to match your station. Would you throw away the Tsaritsa’s gift so lightly?” Unlike Scaramouche’s vulgarity, he speaks with a grating posh drawl.

Ajax clenches his jaw. Yes, he would toss it right out the window if given the chance. Without a second thought. With enthusiasm, no less. The illusion of choice in Pierro’s words sends fire through his veins.

“You don’t seem very grateful,” Pierro says at his silence.

“It is an honor to serve our CEO,” Ajax says, voice bordering on sarcastic. “I am very grateful for this promotion.”

He has no reason to pretend. No reason to hide from these people. They know what keeps him trapped here against his will. They delight in keeping him chained.

“Hmph,” Pierro says with the arrogance of someone who has never lost a battle, martial or verbal. “You should know that what is given can be taken away. I would conduct myself with a better attitude if I were you.”

He is going to regret talking back, but the words tumble out anyway. “I don’t see how my attitude is any of your business. We’re equals now, aren’t we?”

“In rank, perhaps.” Ajax looks up to see a tense smile cross his lips. “But not in seniority.”

“Still, you can’t decide what to take away from me,” he says quietly.

Pierro isn’t as easy to rile as Scaramouche. He laughs, a horrible, cold sound. “Oh, Tartaglia. You think you have power now? You’re nothing more than a dog on a leash to us.”

Scaramouche snickers. But there’s something deeper in the glint of Pierro’s eyes, something that indicates that while Scaramouche may have no idea why he was promoted, he does.

So there is an answer to that mystery. Ajax was just as shocked as the rest of them when the Tsaritsa insisted he join the Harbingers.

Ajax may be one of the rare humans that can harness spirit energy, but he’s by no means special. Suitable assassins for Fatui Corp are plentiful and cheap. He’s watched countless colleagues cave to the high salary only to be killed within a year. His job was meant to be cannon fodder, and yet he’s made it ten years unscathed.

The other Harbingers each have something unique that justifies their station. Ajax—while undeniably a good assassin—is just a gun for hire. So what did the Tsaritsa see in his untrained 14-year-old self all those years ago? Why has she protected him and promoted him to this level?

Something in Pierro’s eyes speaks of a terrible fate awaiting him.

“What’s the mission?” he mutters after the two have had their laugh.

That makes Scaramouche give another deep chuckle, eyes shining. Ajax wants to hit him.

“You’ve built quite the resume, Tartaglia.” Pierro rifts through the file open on his desk and pulls out Ajax’s mission list. “You even brought in 412 and 413, the most powerful adepti we’ve ever captured. And now that you have joined the ranks of the richest people on the continent, the boss feels that it’s time for you to take on a mission befitting your skill and station.”

His empty words make Ajax’s jaw clench. Next to him, Scaramouche is clearly holding back a grin.

“I assume you’ve heard of Morax?” Pierro’s icy eyes glint.

“Morax?” Ajax repeats. “The ancient god? Rex Lapis of Liyue?” Of course he’s heard of him. Every child has in history class.

“Yes,” Pierro says. “Although he was only ever a powerful adeptus, like most so-called gods. Why humans ever once worshipped the spirit beings is beyond me. They’re just like us, fallible and exploitable. Gods do not exist in this world.”

Yes, Ajax thinks, because if gods existed, they would surely strike down the Fatui for polluting their beautiful world.

A dark and seductive emotion dances through Pierro’s eyes. Ajax knows its name, has seen it reflected in every person he’s served since signing away his life to the Fatui.

Greed.

The world exists only for Pierro to exploit. Every person in it is merely a stepping stone to riches and power. He has no respect for life and no love for anything but himself. A typical businessman. If you could even give a Harbinger such a dignified title. Murderer would be more fitting.

Who else but Pierro would be qualified to be Fatui Corp’s CFO? It takes a kind of merciless greed and lack of morality to single-handedly grow the wealth of a corporation that will hold an entire country at gunpoint for profit.

“I assume I’m not here for a history lesson,” Ajax sighs. “What about Morax?”

Pierro’s smile darkens. “He has resurfaced.”

“He’s alive?” Ajax blinks. “I thought he died hundreds of years ago.”

“There was no evidence of his demise. He merely disappeared. But as we have discovered firsthand, there may be more adepti hiding in hibernation than previously imagined.”

“Like 412 and 413?”

“Exactly. As you’re well aware, our scouts sensed the energy signatures of those two as soon as they woke, and we sent you to bring them in. It appears, however, that Morax is alive and has been awake for some time.”

“So you’ve found him?” Ajax feels dread creeping in. He can see where this is going. 412 and 413 were one thing, but Rex Lapis, the Emperor of Liyue, Prime of the Adepti, is another matter altogether. A fairy tale of unimaginable power come to life.

Pierro opens a different file and passes a photograph over the massive, ornate chessboard on his desk. The blurry photograph depicts a crowded street. One person’s face is circled in red.

“A few weeks ago, there was a large spirit disturbance in Qingce, Liyue. Our agents were there to witness, of course, in case any interesting intel came from the incident.” 

Ajax’s fist clenches. As usual, the Fatui were ordered to stand by and watch disaster unfold to gather intel, when they were perfectly capable of intervening and saving lives.

“Instead of going with big business, it appears the victim hired two unknown exorcists. Our scouts have yet to learn their origin, but one was this man.”

Ajax looks at the blurry photo. It’s hard to see, but he looks like a normal human. Long dark hair, a dark suit. In the black and white photo, his face is hard to make out.

“During the exorcism, our scouts sensed a massive release of adeptal energy. Geo energy. Beyond what any human is capable of harnessing.” Pierro smirks. “Aside from our own agents, of course.”

“That’s all you have to go on?” Ajax asks dryly. “You think this guy is Morax because he used adeptal energy? I thought Morax was a dragon?”

Pierro snorts. “Perhaps you do need a history lesson. The man’s appearance matches perfectly with a description of one of his human forms written in an old book called Rex Incognito. Our researchers have spent this last week combing ancient texts about him.”

“One of his forms,” Ajax repeats. “It seems like a bit of a stretch.”

He shrugs. “Perhaps. But regardless of this man’s identity, he is a subject of interest.”

“So you want me to track him down and bring him in?”

“Isn’t it fitting?” Pierro smiles. “Your first mission as a Harbinger, to hunt the ancient king of Liyue?”

Scaramouche gives another low cackle.

Ah, so that explains his mirth. Ajax is being given a suicide mission.

“Sir.” His voice is strained. “If this really is Morax, I don’t stand a chance.”

“Hm? Where’s your usual confidence, Tartaglia?” Pierro’s smile is more of a leer. “You’re our top adeptus hunter.”

“Morax is a god.”

“A former god.”

“I am a human.”

“A powerful human.”

“Sir.” Ajax grits his teeth. Next to him, Scaramouche is clearly holding back furious laughter. “Am I meant to take him alone?”

“These are orders direct from the boss.” Pierro’s eyes are the hardest ice of deepest winter. “She is confident you can handle it.”

Again, does Pierro know something Ajax doesn’t? Despite reports on his progress, how could the CEO know he’s ready for something like this?

She’s so reclusive that he’s only actually spoken with her about twice in ten years. Even though Scaramouche apparently expected her to be at this meeting, Ajax has never seen her personally assign a mission. She didn’t even attend his ceremony or congratulations banquet when she made him a Harbinger. How could she know how powerful he’s become?

“What does this have to do with 412 and 413?” Scaramouche asks before Ajax can continue protesting.

“They were his close associates, according to the texts. His dearest servants. The boss and I think a good place to begin is to get whatever intel you can out of his friends.”

So it’s even more of a suicide mission. The god they want him to fight will certainly try to kill him for imprisoning his friends. Perfect.

But orders are orders. He can’t refuse. Not when, with one telegram, Pierro could have his entire family killed.

He feels the mark on the back of his neck throbbing. The mark burned into his flesh ten years ago when he looked up into the Tsaritsa’s cold eyes and signed his name on the contract that made him her property…. 

He feels it ache as if it can sense his traitorous mind straying. The contract he made is inescapable, and he is a slave to the Tsaritsa’s whims. He knows this.

Still...why would the CEO give him a suicide mission right after promoting him? It makes no sense. As much as Scaramouche laughs with glee at the prospect of him dying, surely their boss knows what she’s doing. This is all a part of her plan.

She wouldn’t let him die unless the timing was right for her. Unless she knew he could beat Morax. Unless…she knew something they all didn’t.

“Any other intel?” Ajax asks, voice defeated.

“This file is for you.” Pierro closes the thin folder and passes it over his desk. “There is next to none recent intel. The information we do have reads like a history textbook. You’ll have to start in Qingce and figure out who this exorcist is. One of Arlecchino’s children will help you when you get there.”

Ajax sighs internally. So he has nothing to work with. The suspicious exorcist was spotted in Qingce, but he could have moved anywhere in the world. Assuming he’s staying in the country, Liyue is massive. Even Arlecchino doesn’t have children planted in every village, every neighborhood of every city.

“And as usual, your priority is to not step on the Qixing’s toes.” Pierro adjusts a knight on his chessboard so that it points precisely forward. “It would cause quite the diplomatic incident if they discovered we were kidnapping their god. They understand that our research benefits both our conglomerates, but they would be stubborn and lay claim to him anyway.”

Ajax nods. While none are as ruthless as the Fatui, the seven corporations of the Qixing run their country in much the same manner. They, too, seek to harness adeptal energy for their own business interests. “Healthy competition” Pierro would call it.

“I don’t think I have to stress the importance of this mission,” the leader of the Harbinger continues. “This will not only be the highlight of your career but will have massive implications for the future of the corporation moving forward.”

“Yeah, you don’t have to tell me,” Ajax mutters. He knows just what they could do if they got their hands on the Prime of the Adepti.

“I would advise patience and thorough planning.” Pierro smirks. “You are already strong but you must also be wise.”

Ajax feels that he is the wrong person for this job. Young, impulsive, and entirely out of his depth.

“We are all counting on you. The CEO herself has chosen you. A great honor.”

“Yeah, I get it,” Ajax bites. He’s heard a few too many of Pulcinella’s lectures over the years to sit through the same from Pierro. His words are empty. They all know this is a suicide mission.

Pierro casts a glare at Scaramouche as he continues to chuckle. “This idiot here will help you get some intel out of the test subjects. I’ve told you the extent of what we know.”

Scaramouche and Pierro have a brief, pointless argument about how he can’t give him orders, and then Scaramouche is standing up with a huff and barking at Ajax to follow him.

“Sir….” Ajax begins as he also stands. “Could I visit my family before I leave for Liyue?”

Pierro affixes him with a cold stare. “You have already had your monthly visit.”

Ajax pauses, tries to steady his voice. “Sir, it’s just….” I may not come back.

The CFO seems to understand. He sighs. “Very well. It is important to remember what you’re fighting for.” Disguised as kind words, Ajax shivers at the threat underneath. “We wouldn’t want you to forget what’s at stake.”

Ajax swallows. The man’s ice-knife eyes carry a clear message: One wrong step and they’re dead.

“Thank you, sir.”

“Good luck, Tartaglia.” Something sinister takes his gaze as he dismisses them with a wave of his hand. “Our future is depending on you.”

Chapter Text

Later that week, Zhongli and Hu Tao show up to the new client’s house with armfuls of equipment. She opens the door and blinks at them in surprise.

“Afternoon!” Hu Tao chirps cheerfully and brushes right past Licai into the house.

“Excuse me.” Zhongli bows politely before following suit.

It’s a small, old house in a poorer neighborhood of Liyue Harbor. Zhongli can sense it immediately—the disturbed energy humming underfoot. Something bad is happening here.

They leave their shoes and the cases of equipment by the door as Hu Tao begins snooping around.

“How have you been?” Zhongli greets Licai. In his day and age, one did not simply storm into someone’s house without greetings. But Hu Tao would be eccentric in any time period.

“It’s been a bit scary.” The client’s eyes are on the young director, nervousness flicking within their gaze. “She—I mean, it—broke all the plates in the kitchen yesterday.”

“She is still a she,” Zhongli says. “Spirits deserve as much respect as the living. It is not her fault that she has become like she is.”

“Right….” The client nods, but her hands twist in the front of her dress. “Can I make you some tea?”

It would be rude to dismiss hospitality, so Zhongli says, “That would be very kind, but perhaps after we have finished? We should make sure you are safe first.”

“This is the room where your grandmother passed?” Hu Tao interrupts as she pauses by the only closed door in the hallway.

“Yes. Her alter is there.” Licai shivers. “I can…feel her when I’m in there. Like she’s in my–my stomach, dragging me down. I feel such despair that I want to vomit.”

Zhongli frowns. “Have you been ill?” If so, this will have to be a very different kind of exorcism.

“No.” The client shakes her head. “I have this amulet, anyway.” She holds up an amulet she has tied around her neck.

Before Hu Tao can tell her it’s a fake, Zhongli smiles reassuringly. “That’s good. Now, could you show us the room?”

Licai walks to the closed door with the trepidation of someone going to their own execution. Her hand trembles as she opens it, but nothing happens. “It’s–it’s in here, where everything started. My grandmother’s ashes are on the alter.”

Hu Tao peers into the room with barely-concealed excitement. “Let me grab the equipment.” She retrieves a briefcase from the entryway.

“It’s okay, Ms. Licai,” Zhongli says while Hu Tao is gone. “You should wait somewhere else while we examine the scene.”

She nods, fear prominent in her eyes, and retreats to the kitchen, soon out of sight.

“Li-Li, look.” Hu Tao has returned and is pointing at something with a devilish smile. “You’re already guarding this place.”

Zhongli glances up and sees a portrait of the Lord of Geo in his full draconic glory placed above the door frame. The brown and golden dragon curls majestically atop a cloud as shimmering characters around his figure read an incantation of warding in the old dialect.

“Very funny,” he mutters dryly.

“I still think we should sue.” Hu Tao grins. “Imagine the money we could get from reclaiming your image as our intellectual property. That would put a several-billion-mora dent in the exorcism industry for sure.”

Zhongli sighs. It used to fill him with rage, the disgust of seeing that companies have been printing his image on amulets and talismans and the like, claiming that the ancient power of Rex Lapis would protect their customers’ households. His religion, his sacred contract with his people, used for profit. His very memory violated and exploited by the people who committed the genocide of his people.

Now he’s too jaded to feel much more than the ghost of heartbreak.

“I’m not sure if the billions of mora would make up for being hunted down and murdered,” he mutters. As would happen, of course, if he revealed to the world that he was alive.

“We could hunt them down if we were that rich.” Hu Tao’s eyes glitter with the joke. “Use their own tactics against them. Instead of taking back your empire by force, we could just buy them out. That’s the Qixing’s way.”

Taking back his empire. A dead dream. In seven years, his power hasn’t grown from its level when he awoke. He’s hardly stronger than a talented human now. This country is lost to him, and he has long since accepted his fate.

For thousands of years, the adepti and humans lived in a symbiotic relationship. Under threat by demons and malevolent forces, the humans came to the adepti and their king, Morax, to forge a contract—tribute in exchange for protection.

It was the ultimate, sacred contract. Morax guarded and nurtured the humans, and they worshipped him as a god. Together they established the nation of Liyue, and for thousands of years, there was peace.

Until the humans Morax had protected turned on him and stole his energy for their own. 

He was blind to their betrayal. By the time he became aware of the devastation of the ley lines, he had no choice but to go into hibernation to reserve energy.

The Qixing, which he had established to help the humans prosper financially, now rules this country with a regime of debt and profit. Their policies have led to deforestation, poisoning of the land, and an economy that makes the rich richer while the poor fall to desolation.

And the great Lord of Geo, once the most powerful and ancient of the gods, has been reduced to a fraction of his strength. He is but a hollow shell of what he used to be.

Hu Tao sees that her joke didn’t land as intended and she clears her throat. “Well, anyway, let’s get started, shall we?”

“Yes, boss.” Zhongli gives her a reassuring smile. Nothing that’s happened to him is her fault.

He’ll put up with her dark humor because all those years ago, she saved his life. Upon waking, weak and lost, he may have died if a little girl hadn’t taken pity on the stranger collapsed in the street.

It was raining the day Hu Tao found him.

Morax had been wandering for days, stumbling through the streets of a massive city that didn’t exist when he put himself to sleep. It took all his remaining power to hide his true form, to appear human as he staggered through the crowded streets. He was cut off from the ley lines that fueled him, ley lines that had been bled dry by corporate greed.

He was soaked, dressed in some clothes he’d stolen off a clothesline, shaking and weak.

A name echoed in the back of his mind: Wangsheng . They were good, honorable humans. The adepti were gone, all the spirit beings, his friends and family lost. He had no one else to turn to.

He finally found himself in the old part of the city, streets he recognized. So much was new, renovated, beautiful old buildings reduced to rubble to make room for ugly, cheap, efficient skyscrapers. Where is Wangsheng? Is everything I knew gone?

At last, his body gave out. He collapsed in the middle of an empty street, hard pavement below, harsh rain above, Wangsheng nowhere in sight.

Morax found himself too tired to care. Maybe it was better if he died here. Maybe it was easier than facing the new world.

He closed his eyes and let the rain and defeat wash over him. A god reduced to dying in the street like a common human.

He felt himself slipping towards unconsciousness when the feeling of the rain stopped. He pulled an eyelid open to see an umbrella over him.

A young girl crouched next to him and held the umbrella over both of them. Her eyes were crimson and wide with curiosity.

For a moment, they stared at each other. Then she cocked her head and said, “I’ve never seen someone with horns before. Are you a demon?”

He reached a shaking hand up to his head and found his horns there. Too weak to hide. “If I were a demon, you should not get close.”

“I’m not scared of demons,” the girl said. “I see them all the time.”

Morax would’ve laughed if he had any strength. “Do you now, young one?”

“I fight demons. And spirits. And anything else scary.” Her eyes glinted. “Grandfather is training me.”

“Then you should know not to get close.” He didn’t know why he was entertaining a random girl on the street. Why couldn’t she leave him to die in peace?

“I don’t think you’re a demon.”

He let out a weak sigh. “You are right, I’m not.”

“Then what are you?”

Did telling her matter? He was at the end of his wits anyway. “I’m an adpetus.”

“Adeptus?” She blinked. “Grandfather told me about them, but they’re all supposed to be dead.”

Ah, so it was true. She confirmed what he had sensed in his few days of waking. His people were gone. He didn’t answer her and closed his eyes to the despair rising in his stomach.

“Why are you taking a nap in the street?” the girl asked.

“I’m dying actually,” he muttered.

“That’s not good.” She spoke very practically for a ten-year-old. “This isn’t a nice place to die.”

No, it was not. This cruel world couldn’t even afford him a dignified death after it stripped him of everything else. He pressed his face to the pavement and prayed for it to at least hurry up.

“Here, you can come die in my house.” The girl hooked an arm around him and tried to pull him up. She was surprisingly strong but fell over with an oof at his weight.

He ignored her.

“Come on, Mr. Adeptus, you’ll become an evil spirit if you die in the street like this.”

Good , he thought. Then he could haunt this world out of spite.

“I really don’t want to have to exorcise you,” the girl continued. “I think you’d be tough to fight, I’ve never fought an adeptus before.”

Please go away, he thought, mouth finally too exhausted to move. He was paralyzed out of grief.

The girl sighed loudly. “I’ll go get Grandfather, then. Stay right there, Mr. Adeptus.”

It wasn’t like he could do much else. She left the umbrella propped up over him and scrambled away.

He laid in the rain and waited for death. Did he want to die? He wasn’t sure. But he didn’t want to be rescued either. He just wanted to stop feeling everything that was tearing him apart inside. He was so tired….

A male voice echoed through the rain: “Tao’er, I told you the adepti all died. There’s no way—”

A gasp prompted his eyes open a crack. A man was kneeling next to him, the little girl behind.

“I can’t believe this.” There was a hand on his shoulder, turning him on his back. “Is he alive? Tao’er, go get the gold vial in the third drawer of my desk. Hurry!”

The world swam with black, and when he regained consciousness, he was propped up on a couch, a vial of golden liquid held to his lips.

“Please, drink this. It is purified ley line energy.” The man spoke in the old, formal dialect Morax was familiar with. That, more than anything, prompted his sluggish mind to obey.

The energy flooded his body in an overwhelming burst. He had been fasting for centuries, unaware that the ley lines he was hibernating by had been disrupted. It was like an adrenaline shot straight to his brain. He bolted upright, eyes flashing gold. His head whipped around, invigorated to take in his surroundings. And they were very familiar….

“Wangsheng?” His voice was a whisper.

“You recognize us?”

He finally took in the man sitting next to him, old, muscled, a large head of grey hair. A serious composure in contrast to the little girl grinning devilishly beside him.

“I was good friends with the 70th Director.” His voice grew a bit stronger.

“The 70th…?” The man still spoke in the old dialect. Morax wondered where he learned it. “I am the 75th Director, Hu Ju.”

“And I’m Hu Tao!” The girl gave a wave. “Are you not dying anymore?”

Hu Ju shot her a glare, but her grin only grew. “I apologize for my granddaughter.”

Morax still wasn’t sure if he wanted to be rescued, but courtesy required politeness. “No, she saved me. I was searching for Wangsheng, but my strength gave out. I have been slumbering for…did you say you are the 75th Director?”

“Yes.” Hu Ju nodded gravely. “My ancestor the 70th Director was in charge 300 years ago. Have you been asleep since then?”

Three-hundred years. He had only guessed, and now the number devastated him. He hadn’t meant to sleep for so long.

“Yes, it appears I have.”

“Please forgive me if this is an impertinence, but….” The old man’s eyes were filled with wonder. “Your appearance resembles that of the Lord of Geo himself. Rex Lapis disappeared 300 years ago. Are you…?”

Perhaps Morax shouldn’t have let his guard down with these humans, but they had saved his life, and he was too tired to think through the consequences. “Yes, I am Rex Lapis.”

Hu Ju’s eyes widened and he attempted to fall to his knees, but Morax stopped the old man. “Please, there is no need. I don’t know what reality I have awoken to, but it is clear that I am no longer anyone’s god.”

Hu Ju kept his head bowed reverently anyway. “My lord, that isn’t true. There are still those of us who worship you, who believed you would return one day. My mother and my mother’s father and his father, we of Wangsheng have always believed that you were alive somewhere.”

“Alive….” Morax muttered. “Am I alive? I can summon but a thousandth of my power. I have been weakened beyond what I imagined possible.”

“The fact that you survived means that there is hope for this country.” Hu Ju’s elderly eyes shined. “That perhaps the adepti can return and take back rule from the corrupt Qixing.”

“Tell me….” Morax’s voice almost broke. “Tell me what has happened to this country. What has happened to my people.”

The Wangsheng Funeral Parlor Director told him then, the events of the centuries he missed, the struggle that Wangsheng went through as the ley lines were disturbed and corporations took control. How the seven guilds of the Qixing ruled Liyue as a corporate republic. How they harmed the people and the land. How they hunted the adepti to extinction.

That was the day he shed the name Morax. The day he took on the life of the human Zhongli. The day he accepted that the Liyue he knew was shattered.

The world was changed, and he had to find a new place for himself within it.

Hu Ju and Hu Tao invited him to join their lives.

His family was dead, but he found a new one in Hu Tao. The young girl took to him immediately and gave him his human name. Zhongli. It was an ironic joke, as he would learn she was fond of. His rule had passed, his duties were finished, with a name to match his status.

Some money changed hands with the underground trade, and they obtained a fake birth certificate, citizenship, and all papers necessary to make it look like Zhongli had been born a human and adopted by the Hu family years ago. He was now legally Hu Tao’s brother.

He lived and worked at Wangsheng as a simple human exorcist. In the meantime, he searched for his family, but every hiding place was empty. Eventually, the pain faded to a dull ache in the bitter wasteland of his heart.

Hu Tao’s grandfather died of cancer three years later, leaving her to be Wangsheng’s 77th director at the young age of 13. She was still a child, of course, so Zhongli became her legal guardian.

They have lived this way ever since. Hu Tao goes to grade school and Zhongli handles the family business in her stead. In a few months, she’ll turn 18 and graduate. What a thought.

Morax was never a brother, nor even technically a father. Though there were many he called his children, he never raised anyone. He never watched them grow firsthand, helped them get ready for school, cooked for them every day. In the past seven years, he has experienced true kinship. Through all the struggle of his new life, Hu Tao has been his steady support at every turn.

So he puts up with her dark humor because—though his cold, old heart would never admit it—she is the light that keeps him going and he loves her dearly.

If he told her, she’d call him a sentimental old lizard and laugh. But he knows she loves him, too. They are all each other has. Her parents and grandfather dead, his species gone extinct. All they have is their little family of two.

“Zhongli?” Hu Tao waves a hand in front of his face. “Hello?”

He blinks back to reality to realize he’s been lost gazing up at the portrait of Rex Lapis.

“I know you love staring at yourself, but help me light these candles.” Hu Tao opens her briefcase and starts handing them to him.

He coughs to ward off the wave of fondness and nostalgia rising in his chest. “Right. Yes.”

They set the candles around the alter where the spirit’s ashes are carefully arranged alongside talismans and offerings.

“They honored all the rites,” Zhongli mutters. “It was a proper funeral and yet….”

Yet there is a rampaging spirit. Such a thing would never have happened when he ruled this country.

After lighting the candles, Hu Tao pulls out her family’s most prized possession—an amulet that allows humans to see spirit energy. Those born into the Hu family are some of the rare humans that can channel spirit energy. It’s exceedingly dangerous, so they have attuned themselves to certain artifacts instead of touching the energy directly.

Zhongli was there when a good friend of his, one of the old gods, awarded this amulet to the Hu clan after they played a major part in halting a pandemic. They have guarded it carefully for the thousand years since and used it to protect this world from the afterlife.

“Something’s wrong,” Hu Tao whispers.

“I know,” Zhongli murmurs.

“She’s still here, I can sense it.” She waves the amulet through the air. “There are traces everywhere. She’s made her mark on this place. But….”

Zhongli, afforded elemental sight unlike the young director, can see the elemental traces coating everything. Trails of energy coat the walls like slime, the floor, the furniture. But the spirit itself….

“Where is she?” Hu Tao says.

Zhongli follows the energy trail where it stretches from the alter. It twists through the air like smoke, wisps that lead….

“Licai.” Zhongli realizes with a jolt. “She said she was feeling ill.”

“You don’t think—” Hu Tao looks at him with wide eyes. “The grandmother has infected her?”

“If so, we need to act immediately.” Disease caused by malevolent spirits is subtle and deadly. The victim could be fine one minute and dead the next.

“We can’t tell her, she’ll panic and the spirit may react,” Hu Tao says. “Can you go distract her while I prepare the elixir?”

Zhongli finds Licai in the kitchen, preparing tea.

“Ah, how is it going?” The client turns.

Zhongli notices now, cursing himself, that her eyes are dull. When he looks closer, her energy—at first coming off as nervousness—is twisted and murky.

“Just fine,” he lies. “Director Hu is preparing. I wanted to ask you some questions about your grandmother.”

“Oh, okay.”

They sit at the kitchen table and Zhongli reviews some basic questions—age at death, profession, general health, birthday.

“I was worried,” the client says, “because the astrologer was telling me her numbers weren’t in line with the rest of the family and that’s why she may have been cursed.”

“She wasn’t cursed.” Zhongli resists the urge to correct all the misinformation this woman has absorbed. “There is nothing wrong with your family. These things just happen nowadays.” There’s no need to be superstitious.

The first glimmer of emotion appears in Licai’s eyes. “Is it really just the ley lines like Director Hu said? I was so worried, if–if it was something that I had done. If she wasn’t happy…. I thought she lived a good life. We never argued, but I–I wondered if…if I just hadn’t seen….”

“It’s not that.” Zhongli struggles with comforting people, especially clients. “It’s not your fault that this happened.”

It’s your species’ fault. It’s all of humanity that has done this.

Thankfully, Hu Tao interrupts by floating into the kitchen. “Licai, we’re almost ready.”

“Oh?” She looks up, hopeful.

“Yes.” Hu Tao smiles. “Just one quick thing before we begin. When we summon her, the spirit may attack us. I need you to drink this elixir to protect you from her energy.”

She hands a small vial to the client. The char-colored substance inside glints threateningly.

“What–what is it?” Licai swallows. “And what do you mean, attack?”

“Ah, don’t you worry!” Hu Tao’s eyes sparkle. “Trust the experts! We’ll have it taken care of in no time.”

Zhongli tries to give a reassuring smile as the client looks at him.

“Okay….” She uncorks the vial and grimaces at the strange smell.

He doesn’t blame her. It’s better that they don’t tell her that the substance is the ash of talismans mixed with purified water. In the other room, Hu Tao wrote wards in red cinnabar ink on paper talismans and then burnt them. An unpleasant but effective way to cleanse a body of foul influence.

To her credit, the client downs it in one go and then chokes, coughing at the tar-like substance. Zhongli gets to his feet, and the two exorcists watch as she swallows and breathes.

“Excellent!” Hu Tao claps her hands together. “Should be any second now.”

“What should be?” The client’s head jerks up in panic.

She doesn’t get to hear the answer, as with a bone-chilling hiss, the spirit is dispelled from her body. Zhongli catches her as she slumps out of the chair.

The electric light overhead flickers and the air goes cold. The spirit, still invisible, clouds the room in twisted energy, writhing and hissing through the space.

“Hello there, grandma!” Hu Tao grins and summons her spear. “I would like to request that you kindly vacate the premises.”

The air ripples and darkens to take on a shadowy silhouette, which immediately lunges at Hu Tao with claws of dark energy.

She parries as the spirit forces her back across the room. Zhongli makes sure the client is stable before summoning his own spear to join her.

Hu Tao corners the spirit and she explodes in a wall of energy that sends a pressure wave through the kitchen and smashes anything that wasn’t already broken. The window shatters, the kettle gets slammed against the wall, and the wood furniture cracks.

“Hu Tao!” Zhongli scolds. “Be careful!”

“Sorry.” The girl’s grin sends the opposite message. “Why don’t you cover the client? I got this.”

“Do you now?”

They can’t make much more of a plan before the energy is coalescing again. Hu Tao gives the spirit a strong wack with her weapon that sends it crashing through the door into the hallway, splintering the doorframe.

“Hu Tao! Wangsheng does not have the budget to get sued over willful destruction of property.”

“We’re saving someone’s life here, Li-Li. Relax! She’ll be grateful!” Hu Tao charges into the hallway. Zhongli rushes after her and the two start parrying a renewed effort by the spirit.

“Why don’t you guard the client while I take care of this.” Zhongli blocks a stab of energy directly at Hu Tao’s face.

“Forgetting who the boss is, are we?” The director’s face is alight with joy at the spirit’s vicious attacks.

“Forgetting who the senior is, are you?”

“Yeah, senior citizen.” How she can keep up a smirk during a fight is lost to Zhongli. “Stand back, old man.”

Hu Tao grabs another amulet from her pocket and smashes it on the ground. In a flash of light, the spirit is partially vaporized. Then Hu Tao’s flaming spear through the shadow’s middle finishes it. With an ear-splitting shriek, the malevolent energy is banished in another, smaller pressure wave that rocks the house.

Hu Tao dismisses her spear, claps her hands together, and mutters a quick incantation. The energy that had filled the house leaks quietly back into the alter in the other room.

She opens one eye and sticks her tongue out at Zhongli. “See? No problem.”

“You destroyed the kitchen,” he grumbles.

“All in a day’s work.” Hu Tao stretches. “Check up on Licai, would you? I’ll make sure grandma’s passed on.” She goes off to the alter.

He sighs and returns to the kitchen, where the client is raising her head groggily.

“Are you alright?” Zhongli scans her, and her energy has returned to normal.

“I–I think so.” She winces. “What…happened?”

“The spirit was inside you. But it’s over now.”

The client’s eyes widen as she takes in the state of her kitchen. As a distraction, Zhongli rushes into a long-winded explanation of the exact properties of the elixir they gave her and what will happen to her grandmother’s soul now. She looks shell-shocked as she attempts to focus on his words.

“Alright!” Hu Tao reenters the kitchen with a bright smile. “We’re all done here. Now for the matter of payment?”

The client hands over her money looking thoroughly overwhelmed. As soon as she’s pocketed it, Hu Tao pulls Zhongli out the door.

“I’m sure she won’t sue,” Hu Tao says once they’re out of earshot.

Zhongli sighs. “As your guardian, I am required by natural law to tell you that you ought to be more careful. The future of the business is at stake when you make risky moves.”

She gives him a dastardly smile. “Oh, Li-Li. You know you can’t change me.”

“Perhaps.” He returns the gesture with an ironic smile of his own. “But I won’t stop trying.”

Her grin widens. “Challenge accepted. Let’s go home.”

People stare as the two exorcists make their way down the crowded street with their ungainly armfuls of equipment. Something Zhongli is well used to.

Their lives are often chaotic, like today, but Zhongli must admit he doesn’t hate it. It’s a simple existence, being an exorcist and a brother. A human in disguise.

Someday, perhaps, Morax’s power will return. But he is happy as he is capable of being as Zhongli. His life with Hu Tao has given him something to live for.

She’s not the family he should have, but she’s the family he chose.

And that means more than anything.

Chapter Text

Scaramouche’s good mood returns as he and Ajax get in the elevator. He keys in the code for the restricted sublevels, and the elevator starts plunging smoothly down.

He grins at Ajax. “Great mission, isn’t it?”

Earlier, Ajax would have responded with something clever, but it feels like his guts are sinking along with the elevator. He stares forward at the golden doors.

Scaramouche takes his silence for fear and his smile stretches. “Subjects 412 and 413 have been excellent for our research since you brought them in. Have I updated you on my recent projects?”

Ajax’s stomach clenches further. He doesn’t want to know about the borderline sadistic experiments Scaramouche and il Dottore are up to on the sublevels. They can get away with whatever human rights abuses they want as long as Fatui Corp runs Snezhnaya.

Not that the adepti are human. Any laws that guarantee the right to life and liberty wouldn’t apply to non-humans anyway.

“We’ve started a new line of weapons based around fission of adeptal energy. It simply obliterates targets upon contact.” The shorter man cackles. “We could level cities with enough of it. Of course, we’ve only got these two adepti in captivity, and we can’t drain too much from them at once. Once we’ve got Morax here....” His voice shivers with excitement. “The devastation we could cause with his energy….”

Ajax continues his examination of the elevator doors to ignore his psychotic ex-mentor. He’s suspected for years that Scaramouche himself isn’t human, but loyalty to species doesn’t seem to matter to someone who just wants to watch the world burn.

“Of course,” Scaramouche drawls, “that is assuming you come back in one piece. How are we feeling?”

Ajax shrugs. “I’ll do what I have to.”

Scaramouche’s laugh is the stutter of a machine gun. “Tell me, have you ever fought a god?”

Ajax clenches his jaw. A poorly-timed glance reveals pure delight warping Scaramouche’s features.

“You’re going to have a few nasty surprises in that file. He was an absolute monster back in the day.”

“Back in the day,” Ajax repeats.

That does nothing to quell his grin. “He’s going to wipe the floor with you.”

“Good.” Ajax lets spite into his voice. “Then I’ll never have to see you again.”

The fact that he means it only makes Scaramouche smile more. The elevator slides smoothly into place at Sublevel 4, and the two make their way into Dottore’s lab.

It’s a massive, sprawling subterranean complex, and the design speaks to the madness of those who inhabit it. Fatui Corp’s researchers and their chief scientific officer could only be described as excessive psychopaths.

The place is dimly lit, the lamps crowded by scientific equipment. Bronze pipes run everywhere. Strange things, plants and body parts, float in tanks of green liquid. Suspicious stains spread out from some equipment. Beakers and vials and strange, lumbering machines with twisted metal take up every table and free floor space.

“Doc!” Scaramouche greets the one person he doesn’t seem to openly despise with a wide smile. “The day has finally come!”

Dottore turns from where he’s standing at a lab table. “And what day is that?”

Scaramouche flops into a desk chair. “The day I’ll be freed of this pain in the ass.” He jabs a thumb at Ajax.

The CSO raises an eyebrow. “Meaning?”

“He’s gonna die.” Scaramouche leans his elbows on the table and leers at Ajax, who stops beside him and folds his arms. “He’s being sent to fight Morax.”

“Ah, so you’ve been assigned the mission then?” Dottore approaches Ajax to survey him in that creepy, detached way he reserves for test subjects.

Before Ajax can answer, Scaramouche cackles. “The CEO decided our newest colleague was up for the job. I beg to differ.”

Dottore frowns. “You shouldn’t wish for him to fail, Scaramouche. You’ve put ten years into training him.”

“Not by choice,” the short man hisses.

“Well, I’ve also put ten years of research into him.” Dottore’s eyebrow climbs higher. “A considerable amount of effort and resources.” His eyes turn on Ajax. “You have become a fine instrument of death. I hope you’ll put your training to good use.”

Ajax shivers. A compliment from Dottore is the last thing he wants. Dottore sees the shit he’s put him through to harness spirit energy as improvement, the development of a weapon, when rightfully it’s just his body being twisted and corrupted.

“I’ll try,” he mutters.

“See, even Childe knows he’s not going to make it,” Scaramouche laughs.

Dottore, thankfully, ignores him. “How is the new formula I designed for your medication? We’re meant to have a check-up this week, but I assume you’ll be leaving on the mission now.”

Ah, yes, the medication. Drugs that keep Ajax’s body from shutting down due to the intensity of adeptal magic he channels.

Humans who can touch spirit magic without dying are incredibly rare. Raw energy from the ley lines tears any ordinary person’s body apart. And even diluted forms poison the body slowly, cause cancer and other mutations. Regular exposure over years will kill even someone like Ajax.

Fatui Corp has worked since its founding to create stable “delusions,” gems which act as conduits and allow strong humans to tap into the ley lines without too much exposure to raw energy. Ajax has mastered his delusion over the past ten years to be able to command hydro and electro.

But even delusions aren’t enough to stop their users from being poisoned. Ajax is perfectly aware that his continued use is essentially giving him cancer.

Thus the medication. Dottore refuses to explain how it works under the guise of protecting his patent. But it mitigates the side effects of the poisoning and should theoretically keep Ajax alive longer.

In the end, as with every human who dares to seek the power of the gods, Ajax will be killed by his own powers. But he never expected to live to retirement anyway.

“The medication is working well,” Ajax says. “From what I can tell, the side-effects from the last formula have mostly gone away.”

“Hmm, excellent.” Dottore nods. “You’ve been an exceptional…case for my recent developments.” He clearly holds back saying test subject. “Based on other trials, this new formula should see improved strength and better sleep.”

Sleep is Ajax’s biggest problem, but he knows that no drug could get rid of his nightmares. He smiles anyway; it’s best to keep the doctor happy, lest an experiment “accidentally” go too far.

“How long will you be gone?” Dottore asks.

Ajax shrugs. “Could be months.”

“I’ll make you a large batch today, then. Ideally, you should take at least one dose daily.”

“I always do, doc.”

The pain can be unbearable without. From what Dottore has explained, every time Ajax uses his delusion, he’s giving himself more cancer. And honestly, Ajax hasn’t minded the side-effects of the medication—periods of mindless numbness can be nice.

And if he ever did run out of medication, using his powers might backfire and kill him.

Dottore is glancing over him like a slab of meat he’s about to cook, but before the doctor can digress into discussing the state of Ajax’s body, Scaramouche clears his throat.

“We’re here to interrogate 412 and 413,” he says. “Mind opening the cells for us?”

The labs are under such high security that it takes the authentication of two Harbingers’ codes to open the test subject cells. These two adepti are the most valuable thing Fatui Corp owns.

“Of course. Pierro informed me of the details.” Dottore turns to lead them there. “Just be careful with them, hm?”

“Careful?” Scaramouche asks as they enter a new hallway.

“I’m afraid I can’t allow you to touch them. They’re much too weak. You’ll have to resort to different methods of extracting information.”

“Like what?” he scoffs. “Just ask them nicely?”

Ajax shivers internally. It’s fitting that Scaramouche has no idea how to get information out of someone without torturing them.

“I know. I’m sorry, friend.” Dottore’s response is equally sickening as his red eyes gleam. “But there are worse things than physical pain.” 

Scaramouche’s eyes find Ajax’s as he stares pointedly away from the two psychopaths. “I suppose there are.”

Whatever happens, Ajax won’t participate in torture. He’ll do what he can to stop Scaramouche from doing anything cruel.

“I’m sure you’ll think of something.” After putting in his code to the large, steel doors, Dottore gives the two a short bow. “Good luck. Come see me before you leave.”

The cell block is lined with a strange mixture of people and creatures. To the left are important prisoners and to the right are test subjects. Each door is completely sealed with nothing more than a small window to indicate who’s inside.

412 and 413 have the place of honor, deep in the back in the two largest and most heavily reinforced cells.

“Let’s start with the girl.” Scaramouche unlocks the left cell. “The boy has said about ten words in five years. Mostly along the lines of ‘fuck you.’ If either of them is going to to talk, it’s her.”

It’s been years since Ajax saw either of the adepti. It was his job to bring them in, and now it’s Scaramouche and Dottore’s job to get whatever they can out of them.

Behind the cell door is an antechamber with a glass wall separating them from the prisoner. 412 is curled up on her cot, grey uniform blending in with the grey sheets. Her blue hair is a tangled mess even tied back. Her skin is pale and sickly, her horns dull. She turns her multi-colored eyes on them, and Ajax is shocked to see their color faded.

“Good morning!” Scaramouche, as ever, is only chipper when witnessing pain. “We’ve got some questions for you today.”

The prisoner has eyes only for Ajax as the two Harbingers close the door behind them. Scaramouche takes a seat on the bench inside and leans forward menacingly, while Ajax stands behind, uncomfortable.

“Ah, yeah, this is Childe. Remember him?” Scaramouche says as the adeptus continues to stare.

She just blinks, gaze dead. Ajax—absolutely despising himself—can’t take it and looks away.

It’s his fault, everything that’s happened to her. He’s long since stopped trying to justify his sins with pathetic excuses like I’m a prisoner, too. The fact that he has no choice doesn’t wash the blood off his hands.

Ultimately, Ajax knows, he did this to himself. This life, this hell he fell into at age 14, has trapped him because he picked up a pen and put his name to paper.

The day he signed the contract is the day his life ended. He’ll never forget her glowing white eyes, the smirk that danced on her lips as she guided the pen into his hand. He was just a child.

And as he finished signing his name in clumsy handwriting, the CEO sat back, her face alight with an emotion he would only come to understand later—victory.

And then they came…tied him down…injected him with a dark liquid. His neck flared with pain and he could swear he was on fire. When the flame died down, a mark was on him. He belonged to her. She used a demon curse to bind him to her.

He didn't sell his soul to a fairy-tale demon. He sold his soul to the real demons of this world—greed and money.

It is ultimately his fault. He had his reasons for signing the contract. At the time, it felt like a simple trade of his life for his family’s, but his victims over the past decade have been the ones who paid the price for him trying to protect his family. Including Test Subject 412.

Gods, she looks the same age as Tonia. Ajax knows she’s immortal, hundreds if not thousands of years old, but right now she looks very much like a vulnerable teenager.

Still, he’s come too far to give in to morality now. There’s no hope left for the girl in the cell before him, but there is hope for his younger siblings. If the price for their future is Morax’s freedom, Ajax will do anything he can to find him.

But he doesn’t have to be cruel.

“Can I have a moment alone with her?” he asks.

“What?” Scaramouche scoffs. “Why?”

“I just want to talk,” Ajax says. And she’ll never trust you. “Let me try first.”

Scaramouche seems to get the insinuation, and he looks murderous. But after a clear inner battle of anger and logic, he acquiesces. “Fine. Five minutes. Then I’m in charge.” And he leaves in a huff.

412 doesn’t look any less guarded as Ajax, alone now, sits on the bench.

“Your name is Ganyu, right?” he asks.

She looks down, fists clenched. He wonders how long it’s been since she last heard her name.

“I wanted to apologize,” he begins quietly. “I don’t agree with anything that’s happened to you. I never wanted to hurt you or–or anyone.”

Her eyes flash back up, brim with anger and tears. “You’re the one…you’re the one who took us.” Her voice croaks, soft and broken.

“I know.” His head dips. “I’m–I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.  I would get you out of here if I could.”

He remembers that day like it was yesterday, for it seldom leaves his nightmares. Ajax was 19, freshly out of training, and it was his biggest mission yet.

He was assigned to bring in two powerful adepti found hibernating in Liyue. A girl with blue hair and red horns and a boy with green-black hair and a snarl. They put up a fight when he awoke them, but in the end, Ajax emerged victorious and earned his place as Fatui Corp’s top adeptus hunter.

Ganyu’s voice turns bitter. She speaks with an accent, some old Liyuan dialect. “Is this some kind of interrogation tactic? They’ve tried everything, you know. You cannot break me.”

He meets her eyes—eyes that were once surely soft and kind, now filled with bitter hatred. “It is a tactic, I guess. There’s information I need from you, but I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want to threaten you. I know I probably can’t convince you, but I want you to know whether you end up telling me anything or not, I’m sorry.”

“You can’t convince me.” Her voice is cold. “Next you’re going to tell me that I should give you what you need or your colleague will return and force it out of me.” She shakes her head. “I’ve seen it all, human. Do you think I’m that gullible?”

“No,” he says, struggling to keep strain out of his voice. “That’s not my plan. I will do anything in my power to stop him from hurting you.”

“Then where have you been these five years?” she asks. “If you regretted your part in this, you would’ve helped me every time they tried to hurt me.”

Ajax stares down. He's thought about it countless times, but.... “I was...afraid to face you.”

“Afraid to face the consequences of your actions?” Ganyu rises on shaky legs to approach the glass wall. “Well, take a good look, human. This is what you have done. If you had any honor, you would do something about it.”

There’s not much she could say that hasn’t already crossed his mind, but that doesn’t stop a deep ache from seizing his chest.

“I don’t care about honor,” he says quietly. “I care about protecting my family, and the Fatui will kill them if I don’t do my job.”

“So I’m supposed to pity you? To want to help you?” Ganyu presses her hands against the glass as her eyes fill with tears. “Your kind murdered my family. I’m one of the last of my species. I have no pity for any human.”

He meets her eyes. There’s a shaking to her voice that seems to indicate she doesn’t mean it.

“You’re half-human,” he says. “I’ve read the ancient texts. You loved the humans. You worked with them every day. You saw their kindness and potential.”

He hasn’t actually read anything of the sort. It’s a stab in the dark that pays off when she doesn’t deny it.

Ganyu’s eyes narrow in anger even as they swell with fresh tears. “But then they betrayed us. They took everything from us. And now you want to drain us away until we’re nothing.”

So she does have pity. There may be a chance to convince her.

“I have three younger siblings,” Ajax says softly. “The youngest is ten. Teucer. I think about him every day when I go to work, when I’m forced to do things like this. I think how ashamed he would be if he knew what I’m doing to protect him.” He bows his head. “Every day I’m terrified about saving his life, but what about his innocence?” He looks up into her prismatic eyes. “The world is cruel. There’s no room to worry about morality. All I can do is fight so that my brother doesn’t die.”

A single tear sparkles down her cheek. “What’s your name, human?”

“Ajax,” he says.

“Ajax.” She closes her eyes. “You are truly the cruelest of my captors.”

He blinks at her as she laughs humorlessly.

“The others would subject me to unimaginable tortures. Body, mind, every pain of this world.” She meets his eyes again. “But none has yet thought to hold a child’s life against me.”

Ajax starts forward. “That’s not what I—”

“Isn’t it? Help you or your brother dies? You promised not to threaten me.”

He looks down, compromised. “It’s not a threat. It’s a plea.”

Ganyu stares at him, gaze swirling with defeated fury, pity, and something deeper. “What information have you come to get from me?”

Ajax hesitates. If he outright tells her, she may refuse. But he’s trying to be honest with her, and anyway, when Scaramouche comes back, all bets are off.

“Morax,” he says. “Tell me about him. His mortal form, his powers, his weaknesses.”

Her hands curl into fists on the glass and her eyes widen. “Rex Lapis?! Are–are you saying he’s alive?”

Ajax watches, feeling sick again, as color blossoms in her eyes. Such hope and love from a single name.

“He may be.”

And just as abruptly as her eyes filled with life, the hope falls and shatters at the realization: “You’re going to hunt down our lord.”

Ajax—the coward—doesn’t answer.

“You’re going to bring him here and drain his life, too?”

He just looks at her.

Despair hardens to resolve in her words. “I can’t help you. You say you are protecting your family.” She brings a hand to her chest. “But Rex Lapis is mine. I won’t betray him.”

Ajax swallows. “I just need some information. Any information.”

Ganyu gazes down at him, and her voice softens. “You’re willing to trade my family for yours.”

“Yes,” he says honestly.

She pauses, analyzing him. How could she survive such an ordeal and still have the strength to look at him like that?

“You’re a good person.”

“I’m not.” He frowns.

“You could be.” She presses closer to the glass. “I can sense kindness in you, Ajax. If you’re brave enough, you could do the right thing.”

Ajax shakes his head. “What are you saying?”

“I beg you. Have mercy.” Ganyu’s voice trembles. “If my lord is alive, he is the last free member of our kind and the only hope for this world returning to a kinder one. A world that will be safe for every family.”

Her words sting. They batter his heart because he knows they’re true. If Morax could rise again, if any of the gods could, corporations like the Fatui wouldn’t stand a chance. The time of peace, of coexistence, of balance between spirit and human could return if they took back the world.

Gods, how Ajax wishes this choice could be his. How he wishes the world could be different, that he could be different.

Years ago, when Ajax was just a normal kid, he would take blow after blow from the bullies at school and it wouldn’t hurt at all because he knew he was in the right. It’s easy to be righteous when you have nothing to lose. He thought he would grow up to be a good person, a defender of the weak.

Now Ajax is a tool of the bullies. And mercy is not his to give.

“I wish I could.” Ajax looks down, throat clogged. “But he’s likely going to kill me anyway.”

She drops back onto the cot. “Believe it or not, I don’t want you or any human to die. I can’t help you...but I can tell you one thing.”

He glances up.

“In the old days of war, when we fought countless evils, my lord was merciless. He was like you, willing to tear the world apart to protect those he loved. In our days of peace, he became softer, but he may have returned to that mindset now.” She sighs. “You may be able to reason with him on this point. Family was everything to him, he might empathize with you.”

“I see,” Ajax says. 

“You should try, at least. You have it in you to reason with him.”

Does he? Ajax has only ever used manipulation to get what he needs. Right now with Ganyu may be the first time he’s tried honesty.

“Thank you.”

“I won’t tell you any more.”

“No, that...was helpful. I’ll tell my colleague you helped me.” He stands. “I wish...I wish I could do something for you. I know it’s stupid to say but...."

“Actually,” she says, “if you find Rex Lapis, could you tell him something for me?”

Ajax gives a weak smile. “I’m not sure how, considering we’ll be trying to kill each other.”

“You can find a way.” The color truly returns to her prismatic eyes with her next words. “Tell him that Ganyu and Xiao never lost faith. We believe that he’ll return.”

For a moment, they maintain eye-contact. Enemies of circumstance, bound in one sympathetic moment. She doesn’t want him to die, but he’ll have to, for the future she seeks. Still, she asks a promise from him.

“I’ll tell him,” Ajax says. It’s a promise, he knows, and he’s always kept his promises. Whatever other morality he’s willing to compromise, when you make a promise, you keep it.

It’s a phantom of the honor he wishes he had.

“Thank you,” she says.

“I’ll leave you now.” He turns. “And I’ll tell them you gave me what I needed to know.” He wants to say more, I’m sorry, I hope you’ll be alright, but they are pointless, empty words.

“Ajax,” Ganyu says when he starts to turn the door handle. He looks back at her one last time. Her gaze is open and honest. Hopeful, despite the fact that he’s leaving with the intent to do terrible things to a person she loves.

“Remember to honor what you fight for,” she says.

Ajax stares. What does that mean? He fights for his family—honor them?

Words fail him with her intense gaze. He nods, short and quick, and then exits the cell. Scaramouche is immediately outside, not giving him a moment to take a breath and gather his thoughts.

“So?” The shorter man approaches.

Ajax stares past him. “She gave me everything I needed.”

Scaramouche looks bewildered. “What the fuck did you say to her?”

He doesn’t reply and starts walking. He went into the interrogation with the intention of being kind, but now he feels sicker than ever with himself.

“Well, what did she tell you?”

Ajax lets his voice darken threateningly. “Morax’s weakness.”

This makes Scaramouche cackle. “Care to share?”

“It’s not your mission, is it?” Ajax raises an eyebrow. “And you want me to fail, anyway, don’t you?”

Scaramouche snorts. “Fine. Be mysterious. Let’s go.”

***

Ganyu’s words haunt him as he prepares for the mission. They follow him to the doorstep of his parents’ house as he goes to say goodbye.

Honor what you fight for.

But he has only ever lied to his family.

The moment the front door opens, several people are on him. A tuft of reddish hair hits his chest, followed by a bone-crushing hug from his father, with Tonia grabbing his free arm.

“Hey!” he can’t help but laugh. “I can’t breathe!”

It takes a moment for the horde to release him. All except Teucer, who remains attached to his middle.

Tonia takes his briefcase while his father grabs him by the shoulders. “Look at you! How much did this suit cost?”

Ajax smiles as he looks down. He is indeed wearing a new suit of a fine, grey material. The latest fashion in the capital.

“Maybe as much as our old house?” he says.

“Hah!” His father claps his shoulder and he winces. “Business is going well then?”

“Business is great.” Ajax’s smile is real, even as his words are fake.

“Teucer, get off him,” Tonia scolds while she tries to pull off his overcoat.

Teucer shakes his head and buries it further in Ajax’s chest. “No,” he says, muffled. “I have to hold on or he’ll disappear again.”

Well if that doesn’t hurt like a knife to the heart. “Hey, buddy.” He pats Teucer’s head. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Yes, you are.” Teucer mumbles into his chest. “You’ll go away and never come back.”

Ajax tries not to think about the fact that that might be all too true this time.

“Come now, Teucer.” Their father pulls the ten-year-old away. “Ajax is a busy man. He was just promoted, he has important business to take care of.”

Supportive as his words are, something lingers under them: and no time for us.

“Let’s just enjoy when he visits, hm?”

Teucer crosses his arms and pouts.

Tonia finally manages to get his coat off. “Come on, dinner’s almost ready.”

Ajax is hit by another truck when they get to the kitchen. His mother—smelling of spice and home—outdoes his father in her attempt to break his bones with a hug.

“Ajax!” She frowns and grabs his face. “Have you been eating properly?”

“Uh, yes,” he says unconvincingly.

Her frown deepens. “You look skinny. You have a kitchen in the city, right?”

“Yeah.” He, in fact, has a penthouse with a massive kitchen. Not that he’s there often enough to use it.

“Brother doesn’t have time to cook,” says a grumpy voice from the stove. “He’s too busy being all important.”

“Anthon!” their mother scolds. “Your brother’s salary is what puts a roof over your head.”

Anthon scowls where he stands minding a pot. “Whatever.”

“But still.” She continues pinching his face. “Ajax, I thought I taught you better. You need to eat right, and you’re a great cook.”

He smiles as he tries to push her hand away. “Mama....”

His mother grew up in a large family that never had enough to eat, so food has always been important to her. With no land or valuable possessions, cooking was the one thing she could claim as a point of pride. Time-honored family recipes she guards fiercely. She was so proud to teach Ajax, to have him carry on her legacy.

They may be rich now, but the fear of food scarcity will never leave her. He understands how important it is for her that he eats right.

He wishes he could be a better son. A normal son. Someone who can cook every day and honor his mother.

So he lies once again. “I do cook. I made borscht yesterday.”

This seems to satisfy her, and she releases him. “Sit, sit. We’re almost done.”

“Anthon,” their father says as everyone starts to sit. “Did you greet your brother?”

“I’m cooking.” The teenager literally and figuratively stirs the pot. 

Their father sighs but lets it go. Once they’re all seated, he asks, “So, your last letter said you were promoted?”

“Yes.” Ajax tries to smile. “I think my title’s now Executive Director of something something.”

“Incredible.” His parents look so happy that Ajax wants to die. “Promoted again, so young. We keep telling your siblings, take a look at Ajax. Twenty-four and at the top of Fatui Corp!”

“They’re doing just fine, Papa,” Ajax laughs. “Don’t pressure them.”

“Hmph, maybe.” His father folds his arms. “But none of them has your brains. To win a scholarship at age fourteen, get whisked off to a fancy private school.” His smile is warm, so warm it hurts. “You’re one in a million, my boy.”

Ajax laughs again. “No, no, Papa. Fatui Corp just took pity on me. It was an outreach program for poor youth.”

“There’s no need to be humble. You won them over back then, and you’re still at it now. Promotion after promotion. It’s amazing.”

The pride glowing in his eyes, in all of their eyes, cuts deep enough to leave a scar that will never heal. 

Honor what you fight for.

He’ll never be free of this lie. Ten years ago, when the Fatui took him, his family was told he’d won a scholarship to study at a business boarding school. In reality, of course, they took him to the capital to train as a hit man.

They were given a generous allowance as he “studied.” They were told he graduated and became a businessman at Fatui Corp. They were told he’s too busy to visit often, the truth being that Pierro only allows him one visit per month.

This lie ruins Ajax more than the poisonous energy actually killing him.

But it’s the lie he must tell them. The lie that keeps them safe and happy. The lie that fills their bellies with food and hearts with pride.

For ten years, every moment of happiness has been a lie. His salary took them out of the slums, paid for his siblings’ education. Now it keeps them affluent. All the while, the truth that they are hostages casts their happy lives into a shadow only he can see.

They can never know the truth. His innocence was lost the moment he signed his life away, but he will watch the world burn before he allows them to be corrupted by the truth.

To them, he is a businessman who won a scholarship. He is their pride and joy. They will never know what he has done to keep them safe. They will never know of the brutal training, the damage to his body from using magic, the chokehold of one wrong step keeping anxiety alight in his chest.

They will never know how he wakes from nightmares with the screams of his victims echoing in his ears. How with every kill, he feels more and more of himself wither away. How the deadness has blossomed in his eyes to the point that he hates looking in a mirror.

They will never know the truth of what he has become.

This house is the only place he can put back on the mask of the perfect son and brother. These visits are the only time he can pretend the self he should have been could still exist. Teucer was a newborn when he signed the contract. He has grown up in wealth, in safety, never understanding the poverty that the rest of them experienced. Ajax will never stop fighting to make sure he is taken care of for the rest of his life.

So as desperately as it hurts, he’ll lie time and time again.

“Let’s celebrate your promotion properly!” His father goes to a cabinet, pulls out a bottle of wine, and pours three glasses.

“What about us?” Teucer pouts.

“Don’t worry, there’s juice for you.” Their father rummages in the ice-box and finds a bottle of orange juice. “Special order from Sumeru. Much more expensive than the wine, actually.”

“What about me?” Tonia raises an eyebrow as their father pours the juice.

“What about you?”

“I’m eighteen now, Papa.”

He casts a glance at their mother, who shrugs. “She is of age.”

“Very well.” He finds a small glass. “Some wine for the princess.”

Anthon and their mother soon finish cooking and everyone loads their plates. “To Ajax!” their father toasts when everyone’s settled. “To his promotion and bright future!”

The family cheers as they raise their glasses. Ajax gives his widest smile as something tight and dark slithers its way into his stomach. 

But no—he’s not going to think about the future. He’s not going to think about how this could be the last night, how tomorrow he’ll set off for Liyue and possibly death.

They have tonight, and that’s all that matters. He’ll drown in the feeling of nostalgia filling the warm kitchen, his family’s smiling faces, the cheer and smell of food in the air. He’ll push the dark thoughts away and pretend he’s a child again.

“Oh, by the way, we’re getting a telephone installed!” Teucer remembers as everyone digs in. His eyes flash excitedly.

“Oh, really?” Ajax smirks. “That’s what you’re spending my hard-earned money on?”

While Ajax is used to fancy things like automobiles and telephones—only the best for the Harbingers, after all—technology like that is far too expensive for the average family. And very rare outside the city.

“It’s so you can talk to us all the time!” It’s Teucer’s turn to smirk as Ajax’s face goes red. “You told me you’d write letters every week, but you don’t.”

“I....”

“Teucer,” their father interrupts. “Ajax may not be able to find a telephone if he’s on a business trip.” He smiles apologetically. “We don’t really expect regular calls, Ajax.”

“No, I—” I’ll call you every week. The words die in his mouth. “I’ll…get a telephone installed when I get back from Liyue.”

It’s a promise he has every intention of following through on. The only roadblock is coming back alive. But he supposes this is just more motivation to complete the mission. A promise to Teucer is all he needs.

“Really?” Teucer’s shining face only confirms it.

“Of course, buddy.” Ajax ruffles his hair. Teucer jumps up and hugs Ajax again, and he holds him back tightly, fiercely.

As Pierro said, It is important to remember what you’re fighting for.

“Pinky promise?” Teucer pulls back and holds out his finger.

“Promise.” Ajax takes it with his own pinky. “I’ll get a telephone. And we’ll call every week.”

I’m sorry, Ganyu, he thinks as his whole family beams at him. I don’t think I can have mercy after all.

My family will always come first.

Chapter Text

On the train to Liyue, Ajax pours over every bit of information he has on Morax. But of course, he has essentially nothing more than history books to go off of. Rex Incognito reads more like a collection of parables than a description of the god-king’s mortal aliases. It’s likely that the anonymously-penned book is entirely fiction.

Still, it is uncanny how the young man in the photographs resembles the young man from the book. Even without color to show the finer details, the photograph could act as an illustration for Rex Incognito.

If this is Morax, he isn’t being subtle. Perhaps he’s relying on the fact that the world has thought him dead for hundreds of years to ensure that no one comes looking for him.

The history books themselves aren’t very helpful. Ajax doubts the stories steeped in mysticism about the rise and fall of the Lord of Geo have any bearing on his present form. The books focus on agrarian times in Liyue, the conflict between humans and demons, and the contract made between them and the adepti. Chronicles of the long-distant wars paint the god as a fearsome warrior, but the descriptions are so fanciful that Ajax can’t glean any insight into his fighting style or how to counter it.

None of the history textbooks review the events leading up to Morax’s disappearance. They make it sound like the adepti died out quietly in the background while humans took on the mantle of leading Liyue. This is what Ajax was taught in school, but his time with the Fatui made it clear that Teyvat’s education system is rife with misinformation.

The Fatui maintains the lie to the Snezhnayan public, of course, that the spirit beings just vanished. But as an important figure in the company, Ajax was afforded the truth—humans hunted them deliberately.

Whatever sent Morax underground, he can only learn by asking the adeptus himself. Despite his research, details on his mark remain elusive.

Once Ajax arrives in Liyue, it takes him only a week to track down the mysterious exorcist. In Qingce, he meets one of Arlecchino’s children who guides him to the site where he was spotted. Like the previous scouts, he senses faint traces of adeptal energy in an abandoned warehouse on the edge of the city. 

The agent he meets is a native Liyuan teenager, one of several planted in the large city Qingce. The Fatui opts to use Snezhevnas and Snezhevichs as observation agents, orphans taken at birth and raised by Arlecchino. Brainwashed ever so perfectly to serve the Fatui, yet native-looking enough to blend in so as not to tip off the Qixing.

This Snezhevich is good for observing. The teenager has gathered some general intel about the incident, but of course, to avoid suspicion, they never engage with the locals. It’s up to more senior Fatui agents to take action.

There’s a good reason for Ajax to have been assigned to carry out this mission alone. Even facing a powerful opponent, it draws less attention. It’s paramount that he stays under the Qixing’s radar, so he is careful when communicating with the Snezhevich.

Ajax interrogates the few people he finds at the warehouse. Here is where his skillset differs; unlike most Fatui agents, he is actually likable.

It takes only a few charming smiles to convince the locals to talk to him. An old woman tells him the owner of the warehouse was having trouble with a curse, then two exorcists came in and solved the problem immediately.

After a bit more asking around, Ajax finds the owner of the warehouse. They are not quick to trust. But Ajax melts easily into a persona he built just for this occasion: the young, attractive man who is simply too friendly to refuse.

This is where he differs from his colleagues who know nothing more than the use of force. As he’s learned through the years, a smile is often more effective than a knife. Sympathy, relatableness, even seduction—people open at gentle, manipulative touches, not violence.

It works wonders, the slight tilt of his head and soft sigh he gives as he explains to the owner that he’s having a spirit problem, too, and he’d love to have the address of the exorcist who dealt with theirs.

An organization known as Wangsheng. Based out of Liyue Harbor. The owner of the warehouse admits that they are a small and eccentric business. But the exorcists who came got the job done well. They are sure Wangsheng can solve Ajax’s problem.

Yes, I’m sure they can, he thinks as he leaves the owner with a beaming smile and a wave.

A day-long train ride later, Ajax is perched on the rooftop of a building adjacent to Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. The most important part of any mission is gathering information. In the beginning, when he was all anger and fight, he got hurt countless times from charging into a situation uninformed. But as Scaramouche, his unwilling mentor, has drilled into him, patience is key.

So he waits and watches.

The funeral parlor is a very old building nestled between a mixture of dilapidated shops and shiny new apartment complexes. People on the street seem to give it a wide berth. The first person he sees is a teenage girl with brown-red hair and crimson eyes. She emerges mid-morning and hisses at the sunlight. Then she turns back to speak to the person behind her and Ajax’s chest tightens as the second person follows her out.

He found his mark. The exorcist looks just like he did in the photos. Tall, long hair tied up, a brown suit. From a distance, it’s hard to see, but he looks exactly like the description in the book.

The two exorcists set off, and Ajax watches them go.

Over the next few days, Ajax learns a lot about Wangsheng. The shop owners on the street aren’t happy about the ancient, dark building refusing to sell so the land can be used for something nice and modern. People around the block have a lot of complaints about “Hu Tao and Zhongli.”

They generally follow the line of: That girl is so strange. She tried to sell me a discount coffin. Said it was only a matter of time before I needed it!  

Whereas the complaints about Zhongli are: He’s such a well-educated, polite young man. What’s he doing working at a funeral parlor with that freak? I think he’s her adopted brother, why does he let her go on like that?

Zhongli, it appears, is the name of the mysterious exorcist. Since there’s still no explicit proof this man is Morax, Ajax defaults to calling him “Zhongli.”

As he asks around, there is nothing suspicious about the man. To all the neighbors, he is simply the kind, knowledgeable exorcist next door. Not a hint he may be more than human.

But it only takes Ajax getting within fifty meters of the man to sense his energy. He is finely attuned to adeptal energy, as it warps and corrupts his own body. There’s no reason for the common citizen to sense anything is wrong, but Ajax can feel it.

Zhongli is no mere mortal.

His energy signature matches Subjects 412 and 413, attuned to geo, and it thrums with an intensity Ajax has never seen.

His “sister” Hu Tao, on the other hand, is human. She gives off an energy signature similar to Ajax’s own—a human touched by spirits. She’s likely able to channel spirit energy just as he is.

After a day or two of observation, Ajax decides he’ll need a closer look.

Patience and thorough planning.

***

The door of the funeral parlor opens with a faint jingle. Ajax peers around before entering. It’s dark and downright creepy. Heavy drapes block the sunlight, while the space is lit by open candles. Heavy, dark furniture and an oppressive clutter of strange objects fills the first room.

He senses her before she sneaks up on him from behind. “Can I help you?” Her voice is a sing-song drawl.

Ajax pretends to be spooked as he turns with a jolt to the teenager. “The, uh, sign said open for business.”

The crimson-eyed girl—Hu Tao—scans him with what can only be described as a leer. “Oh, a prospective client?”

“Yes.” He swallows. “I’m having a spirit problem, and I was hoping you could help me.”

“Welcome, then.” Her smiles glints ominously. “I’m sure we can help you. One way or the other….”

What does that mean? It’s clear she enjoys putting people at unease. He’ll keep up the nervous act to make her happy.

“Thank you,” Ajax says. “Are you the, uh, director?”

“Yes, I’m Hu Tao, Director of Wangsheng Funeral Parlor.” Even the way she bows is somehow tinged with threat. Maybe it’s because she doesn’t break eye-contact. “Have a seat and we’ll be with you shortly.”

She floats out of the room. Once she’s gone, he closes his eyes and scans the room. The sheer amount of spirit-energy-imbued objects in the room interferes with Ajax’s elemental sight. One energy signature sticks out prominently; Zhongli is in the house. Ajax can’t use too much magic while the adeptus is in proximity, but he needs to scope out their defenses.

There are wards set almost everywhere. Ajax stole the building’s floor plan from the city archives yesterday, and there’s only one window he’ll need to open. 

He focuses on the second floor. Zhongli’s bedroom window has a dozen wards on it of varying strength, age, and purpose. But Scaramouche’s training wasn’t for nothing, and within half a minute, Ajax has analyzed them enough to devise counter-wards.

Now to meet the mark.

Ajax paces around the sitting room while he waits and observes the strange collection of items—amulets, relics, artifacts. The dusty furniture and flickering candles. It makes sense that Rex Lapis would make a home here, in a place that feels like it hasn’t changed in a thousand years.

He feels Zhongli before he sees him. A presence moving in the hallway, golden glow bright enough to block out all other energy signatures like the the light of the sun.

Ajax moves to greet the exorcist as he enters, but he barely has time to register the deep, stunning amber of Zhongli’s eyes as their gazes meet before a spot on his collarbone erupts into pain.

He clutches the spot and stumbles and how is he on fire? It burns and burns and—fuck—he gasps and Zhongli is saying something, hands on his shoulders, but he could swear a red-hot iron is digging into his skin—

The pain vanishes as quickly as it came. Ajax’s breath comes ragged as he realizes Zhongli caught him from falling. His head is pressed against his chest and hands steady his shoulders.

What the fuck was that?

Everything is tingling as if a firestorm blew over him. His vision is awash in gold that fades by the second, leaving the air wavering and sparkling. He tries to breathe and stand up but almost trips.

Zhongli’s hands remain on his shoulders. “Are you alright?”

Ajax looks up to meet those amber eyes. A mixture of emotions crosses through them before Zhongli composes himself—pain, absolute shock, and a brief flash of terror. But maybe Ajax imagined it because in less than a second, Zhongli’s face is still and stoic.

“I’m sorry.” Ajax straightens up. “I...don’t know what came over me.”

Standing here, within a foot of the adeptus, even as Zhongli releases him, his energy is overwhelming. Ajax’s entire body is buzzing. 

It’s strange.... Ajax is attuned to adeptal energy, but there’s something different about this adeptus. 412 and 413, along with one or two others he’s met, certainly had similar energy signatures. But Ajax was never this...sensitive to them. 

It doesn’t make any sense. From the moment he caught sight of him, even dozens of meters away, it was as if all his senses lit up. And just now, when their eyes met for the first time, something undeniably happened.

Ajax feels overwhelmed, smothered by his presence. Why?

But there’s no time to process it.

“You looked like you were having a heart attack.” Ice slides down Ajax’s throat at hearing his voice. It’s deep, commanding. Why, why does everything about this person make him shiver?

Ajax presses a hand over his chest. It wasn’t coming from his heart. It was on his skin, but the burn has vanished. He wants to look, but he can’t very well rip off his shirt right now. “I…have been stressed lately,” he doesn’t quite lie. “I have a very intense job.”

“Do you need to go the hospital?”

“No, no.” His mind recovers enough to concoct an entire lie. “I'm sure it’s just stress.”

“Li-Li?” Hu Tao appears out of the doorway with a frown. “Are you murdering our client?”

“I’m fine!” Ajax moves away from Zhongli and flashes his signature smile. “Excuse me, I’m not sure what happened.”

Hu Tao quirks an eyebrow. “Well, it wouldn’t be the first time the energy in here has interfered with a client’s aura. You know, if you’re interested in half-price coffins, we’re having a sale right now.”

“I’ll...keep that in mind.”

“Anyway!” She claps her hands together and looks between them. Zhongli’s gaze is still on Ajax, expressionless yet intense. “What can we do for you?”

“I’m, uh, having a spirit problem.” He remembers his cover story.

“Great! Let’s sit down and talk.” She gestures him to the couch.

The two exorcists sit opposite him. Hu Tao seems recovered from the incident, but Zhongli’s eyes hold him in an unblinking, critical gaze.

The man who may be Morax looks even more suspicious up close. His eyes glow a soft gold, the signature color of the Lord of Geo, and his hair is tipped with the same color. Everything about him is regal—his perfect posture, piercing gaze, an aura of natural dominance. There isn’t a hair out of place, from his neat brown suit to serpentine eyes to strong yet fine features. As if Morax designed this form to capture ideal human beauty.

Ajax looks away. If this is Morax...this is a being who could once obliterate an assassin with a flick of his finger and probably still can.

“As I said, I’m Hu Tao,” the young director begins. “And this is Zhongli. We’re exorcists of the ancient and honorable Wangsheng line. But you already knew that, I assume?”

“Yes, I’ve heard a lot about you.” He manages to refocus. “I’m being haunted and I don’t trust big business, so I thought I would visit Wangsheng.”

“Strange,” Zhongli says. “When you yourself are a businessman.”

“Why would you assume that?” It’s hard to make eye-contact with those intense eyes, but he does.

“A Snezhnayan in a fancy suit.” Even the way Zhongli shrugs is elegant. “It is a natural assumption.”

Ajax—who never gets nervous on a mission—feels his mouth go dry. “What makes you think I’m from Snezhnaya?” He’s worked very hard to conceal his accent.

“It’s true there is a great number of foreigners in Liyue these days, but the signs are unmistakable.” Zhongli’s expression is perfectly neutral, though his eyes continue to bear down like the sun.

Ajax lets out a stiff laugh. “Well, you’re right. I’m a businessman. So I’m aware of how extortionist this industry can be. I like to deal with small business in personal matters.”

When creating a lie as complex as a false identity, it’s best to stick as close to the truth as possible. He is technically a businessman from Snezhnaya. 

“Ah! Finally a client with some sense.” Hu Tao grins. “What’s your name?”

“Ajax,” he says because there’s no way he’s giving them his codenames. It only takes one infamous alias for them to connect him to his crimes, and he’d rather stay in their good graces for the moment.

“Well, Ajax, tell us about your problem.” Hu Tao opens a book on the table between them and brandishes a pen.

While she seems to have warmed to him, Zhongli remains cold. Ajax attempts to strike up a balance between a charming smile and nervous composure. As if he’s a friendly businessman scared for his life from spirits. He copies the story about his supposed haunting from a recent spirit disturbance he dealt with back home.

“And you just moved into this apartment?” Hu Tao scribbles some notes.

“Yes,” he lies, voice even. “This isn’t my first time in Liyue Harbor, but it will be my longest trip. I needed cheap long-term accommodation. But I didn’t realize the apartment was quite this cheap. The landlord is refusing to do anything about the disturbance.”

His shy grimace is designed to gain instant sympathy. But these two are no common, manipulatable people. Not a bit of Zhongli’s face reacts to his fake sob story, while Hu Tao barrels right past to the practical details.

“Right. Tell me about the floor plan, window layout, all that.”

His cover doesn’t miss a beat as he describes the layout of his actual hotel room. After a few more details, Hu Tao finishes taking notes and nods.

“Are you free Friday afternoon? We can come and take a look then.”

“Perfect.” He tries another wide smile and gains no reaction. “Thank you.”

“We’ll discuss fees and everything then.” Hu Tao’s eyes glint. “For now, I’ll just need the address and your contact information.”

Ajax writes a random address he researched earlier on the form. He obviously can’t let the exorcism happen because it’s all made-up, so now he has a three day deadline.

No matter. He’s gotten enough information about the building to break in tonight. The materials are prepared, and he’s mapped their routines as well as he can.

“Thank you so much.” He gives a deep bow as Hu Tao ushers him out.

“See you Friday.” She says it more like a threat than a reassurance. “Don’t die before then!”

Behind the young director, the other exorcist gives the slightest bow, his golden eyes still hard. Ajax tries to maintain his composure as he exits the funeral parlor.

Once he gets a dozen meters away from Wangsheng and Zhongli’s presence fades, it’s like a massive weight has been lifted off his chest. He can breathe again. 

Something in his instincts is screaming at him as he rushes back to his hotel room. What? What is it? Why is he so sensitive to his energy?

He’s a god, is the easy answer. Ajax has never been in the presence of such a powerful adeptus, and he’s convinced after meeting him that Zhongli is, in fact, Morax. But that can’t be it, can it? The reaction was so dramatic. He almost physically collapsed; he’s never experienced anything like—

Wait. He has actually.

Ten years ago.... After he signed the contract, the Fatui scientists tied him down.... And his skin burned just like that—

Panic sends him almost running for the hotel. In the safety of his hotel room, he unbuttons his shirt and pulls it aside. There, above his collarbone on the left side, is a faint mark.

The world spins as he bursts through the bathroom door and grips the sides of the sink. It’s unmistakable, reflected in the mirror. A subtle, golden mark.

A smattering of inky golden stars. Six points. A constellation.

Ajax’s first instinct is to reach around to the back of his neck. It’s still there, the slightly raised outline of his other mark that he knows is an icy blue symbol. A tattoo burned into his skin, one whose pattern he’s never seen anywhere else.

The new mark is about the size of his palm, raised on his skin and glittering in the dim, bathroom light. It adorns his collarbone and the dip of skin above. The sparkle of a familiar constellation. It takes him a moment to remember the name: Lapis Dei.

God of Stone.

What the fuck. He tries not to panic, but he can feel it crashing over him like a dark wave.

Morax...Morax must have done this to him. There’s no other explanation. It burned just like that day ten years ago. The magic the Tsaritsa used on him was a curse stolen from a demon.

The Tsaritsa isn’t a god. As far as he’s aware, she’s human. Did Morax somehow use adeptal magic to do the same thing she did to him?

Well, that’s not the problem. Ajax didn’t sense Zhongli use magic. He didn’t do anything. And it looked, for a fraction of a second, as if the adeptus was in pain too....

Ajax grips the sink. Now is not the time to panic. He has a mission to complete. But nothing in his years of training could prepare him for this development. 

As waves of panic start to rise and fall within him, he can abruptly feel something amplifying it. A distant, echoing panic ripples through him from...from outside him. He can feel his own panic—tight and sharp in his chest—but there’s something else bouncing around the borders of his mind—

—the fractured edges of a mirror, a reflection passed between a thousand interweaved conduits, a prism with an infinite number of beams—

He turns on the sink and splashes cold water on his face. His lungs continue to expand and contract fast along with the echo, the shadow, the other rising and falling alongside him....

What is this? He can feel someone breathing. Each breath is laced with panic, a deeper, darker feeling than his own. Ajax’s panic is sharp. But this...this feeling doesn’t belong to him. It’s a towering, powerful thing—grief and rage and despair—and where is it coming from?

He feels the breathing slow—not his own, his heart is still racing—and the other panic fade. It slides off him slowly like drops of water drying, leaving tracks of dark fear where it touched him.

Ajax blinks and he’s on the floor, panting into the silent air. What in...the ever living fuck was that.

Now he’s hallucinating someone else’s feelings?

It takes a minute for his chest to loosen. It leaves a roiling nervousness in his stomach. He gets off the floor with slow breaths and turns back to the mirror.

Nothing has changed. He looks fine, despite the lingering shock in his eyes. The constellation mark is glowing faintly on his chest. He touches it, and the skin stings.

Something is very wrong. Something new, something unprecedented.

But Zhongli didn’t do this. He couldn’t have. There was no reason for Zhongli to suspect that Ajax was anything other than what he said he was. And even if he had, he didn’t use magic. This happened spontaneously.

And even if he had noticed something and had used magic, why? Why mark him like this?

Maybe it was a coincidence that the mark appeared when they met. But Ajax doubts it. The mark is in the shape of the constellation named for Morax himself.

I need to calm down and refocus.  

The mark is irrelevant to the situation at hand. Probably. Tonight, he’ll complete the mission. He’ll have Zhongli at his mercy, and he can get the truth out of the adeptus then. If he’s even involved in this development.

Ajax really should send a telegram back to Pierro. He should ask for advice because he truly has no idea what just happened to him. But events are already set in motion. He doesn’t have time to wait for a reply with the three-day deadline.

It’ll be fine.

A familiar ache settles in his bones once he’s regained control of his breathing. That ever-present throbbing of his tissues. Calm down.... He really ought to....

Ajax leaves the bathroom and opens the suitcase on the bed. Dottore’s medication is nestled safely between clothes. Ajax loads a syringe, rolls up his sleeve, and lays back on the bed.

As always, pure relief rushes through his veins. It’s like sliding into a warm blanket that muffles all feeling. 

Everything will...be okay....

As he sinks into relief, a phantom of Teucer’s pinky takes his own. A promise to return, strength that floods him even as the memory of Zhongli’s intense energy shakes his resolve....

One way or another, it will end tonight.

Chapter Text

Ajax perches on the roof of Wangsheng and checks the syringe in his hand one last time. It’s full of a blue-tinted liquid that glimmers ominously in the heavy moonlight. A tranquilizer.

He checks his weapons, grips the syringe tightly, and then takes a deep breath and climbs down the side of the building.

The ancient, rusted window to Zhongli’s bedroom is still covered by a dozen wards. Ajax murmurs a few words softly as he draws on his delusion. With a rush of hydro energy, the relevant wards dissipate. The physical lock is easy enough to pop.

Silent and slow, Ajax drops through the open window.

The room is drenched in moonlight. It falls in a long beam from the open window and bathes the bed. Ajax freezes at the sight of Zhongli.

It’s a perversely peaceful scene. The adeptus is asleep, his hair spread out over the pillow as he lies flat on his back, chest rising and falling steadily. His smooth skin and perfectly shaped features glow in the moonlight.

His energy, even asleep, is overwhelming.

Once again, Ajax can’t help but think that Zhongli is beautiful. And while this shouldn’t be a factor, it stabs at Ajax’s chest. He’s destroyed so many beautiful things. Humans, like the Fatui, like him, have polluted this world and driven its ancient and miraculous creatures to extinction. This may be the last free adeptus.

 It’s truly a regret that he has to eliminate such a being. That Zhongli will be taken captive and tortured and drained until nothing is left.

But despite Ganyu’s plead for mercy, despite his self-disgust, despite the fact that Ajax wishes everything could be different, his heart can only give priority to the memory of Teucer’s shining face and the promise of a telephone.

It is important to remember what you’re fighting for. He’ll never be able to honor them. He will only ever commit sins in their names.

To get back to his family, to keep his promise, Ajax will be the kind of monster he despises. 

The syringe trembles in his hand as he approaches silently. He stands over the adeptus, close enough to touch, and pauses to think, I’m sorry.

But as soon as he moves, Zhongli’s eyes flash open. 

Shit! Ajax grips the syringe and slams his hand down, hoping to catch him off guard.

But as he brings the needle down on the unmoving adeptus, his arm halts inches away from his skin. He struggles—why isn’t his arm obeying him? He can’t move, his muscles frozen in place. Ajax falls back, panting from the effort, and then swings his arm forward, only to be stuck in place again. 

He can’t do it. He literally can’t do it. His body won’t obey him.

He falls to his knees as Zhongli leaps out of bed and pulls a glowing sword out of thin air. This is it. It’s over. He’s dead.

Ajax closes his eyes, but the blow never comes. When he opens them, Zhongli is stuck in the same position, sword inches from his throat but unable to reach. He grunts in frustration as he slashes repeatedly only to be frozen, then dismisses the sword and falls back to sit on the bed.

For a moment, they both breathe. What…what the fuck…?

Zhongli’s voice is considerably calmer than the energy tingling on Ajax’s skin. “I assume you have been sent here to kill me?”

Ajax doesn’t answer.

“Who are you?” Amber eyes bore into him. They have the weight of mountains behind them. Ajax feels like he’s being slowly crushed.

He swallows instead of answering. “What’s…what’s happening to me?”

Zhongli stands, and Ajax flinches, but he only starts pacing. There are a few moments of heavy silence while Ajax stays frozen on his knees.

Zhongli pauses with his back to him. “We are soulmates. We were branded with a soulmate mark earlier today.”

His words have so much meaning, but they don’t sink in. Ajax pulls his shirt aside to look at the constellation glittering on his collarbone again. “You–you have one too?”

“Yes.” Oh, the simmering anger in that deep voice. There is hate in it. The back turned to him is tense, every muscle tightened. Zhongli’s head is bowed.

Ajax feels like he should be panicking. Instead he feels empty and vague. “Why can’t I stab you?” His voice is quiet.

“The bond prevents us from harming each other.”

Soulmates…? Can’t…harm each other…?

Reality sinking in prompts an unhinged laugh out of Ajax’s lungs. It bursts forth in a series of humorless chuckles, one after another until his stomach hurts and he’s bent over, forehead brushing the carpet. A dead laugh. A scary laugh.

Zhongli turns back to him. “Why are you laughing?”

“I didn’t think this would be how I died,” Ajax whispers through a laugh. He didn’t think the universe could surprise him anymore. It’s insane. It’s devious. It’s fucking cruel.

“What are you talking about?” It’s a question, but the adeptus’ voice brims with barely-controlled fury.

It’s a good thing Ajax didn’t contact Pierro, or he’d already be dead.

He can’t harm Zhongli. Even if putting him to sleep with the intent to keep him prisoner somehow didn’t count as harming him, now that the target is awake and angry, there’s no chance of capturing him.

He doesn’t know much about soulmates. He’s never heard of this happening outside of folk tales. But his brain has already zoomed past impossible to the only solution.

Soulmates can’t hurt each other. And if the other myth he’s heard about them is true...they feel all the pain the other feels.

Pierro will kill his family if he doesn’t bring Zhongli in, but if he brings Zhongli in, whatever the Fatui does to him, Ajax will also feel. Either way, he loses.

It’s not even a choice. Ajax is perfectly willing to die so that they leave his family alone. But he can’t capture Zhongli by force.

You can reason with him. Can he? Ganyu said Morax cares about family. Might be empathetic to Ajax’s case. Can he convince the adeptus to turn himself in?

Ajax takes a deep, gasping breath to get control of his lungs, eyes squeezed shut. “I’m an assassin, and I was sent to kidnap you for the Fatui. But I have no loyalty to my employers. I do what they say so they won’t hurt my family.”

Zhongli takes a step closer, and the air vibrates.

“They’ll kill me if I don’t bring you in.” The back of his neck and his collarbone are burning, as if the marks there are at war. He feels dizzy, sways where he kneels. “They’ll kill my family....” The whisper leaks out of him like poison. “Help me. Please.”

How the positions have been reversed. The human in his proper place—kneeling.

Golden fury shines down on him like the wrath of the sun itself. The floor trembles as Zhongli takes a step closer. The pure, intimidating energy radiating from him is ten times anything Ajax has felt before.

Ah, so this is a god.

“Why should I care?” How can a calm voice contain so much force? It boils with resentment.

Yes, why should he? Ajax already has the answer. He wanted to have mercy. He wanted to reason with him. But there is a solution, one he doesn't want to resort to.

“You have to,” he says. “You have to help me.”

Zhongli’s eyes flare. “I do not have to do anything.”

“If we’re connected like this...if they kill me, you’ll feel it too. I’ve heard it’s devastating.” Ajax meets his intense gaze. “To have part of your soul ripped away.”

Zhongli’s fist clenches. For a torturous second, he is still. He could be meditating with how collected he looks, though Ajax can almost hear his thoughts roaring.

“This cannot be real,” he finally says in a voice lower and weaker than before. “This cannot be...happening, I....” His eyes close and his next words sharpen. “Get out.”

For a moment, Ajax almost obeys him. He almost gives up. But his family will die if he leaves empty-handed. After all he’s been through, all the people he’s killed to keep them alive.... He’ll do anything to keep them safe.

Ajax pulls a knife out of his leg strap.

“What are you doing?” Zhongli’s energy rises defensively.

He puts the knife to his palm and swipes it across. The pain barely registers as blood flows, but Zhongli gives a sharp gasp. He looks at his own intact hand and then back at Ajax, realization hardening into new anger in his eyes.

“See? It hurts.” Ajax stares back unflinching.

Zhongli advances with a growl. “You ba—”

“When I go back to my employers and they see the mark, don’t you think they’ll put two and two together?” Ajax knows he should be appealing to the adeptus’ humanity with a kind plea, but instead his voice is dead and almost taunting. “They’ll know we’re bonded and they’ll use it against you. They’ll do such horrible things to me that you’ll have to come save me to make the pain stop.”

The fury in Zhongli’s eyes could level mountains.

He paces again while Ajax watches him. His movements grow frantic with each step. After a few turns, he pauses with a hand over his face. “You’re using yourself as bait? What do you want?”

Ajax tucks away the knife and presses his uninjured hand over the wound. It’s still bleeding. “Turn yourself in. Please.”

Their eyes meet, and the fire is finally gone from Zhongli’s gaze. Except now it’s condensed into something cold and unbearable. His voice is perfectly calm when he says, “Fuck you.”

“I have three younger siblings.” Ajax’s voice loses its manipulative edge. “They…I can’t…I can’t let them die. It’s nothing personal, I don’t want to hurt you. But they’re innocent, they—”

“I have no pity for human scum.” Zhongli’s voice is devastatingly cold. “I would rather your entire family and you and I die than hand myself over to the Fatui.”

Ajax looks at the floor, and warmth burns behind his eyes. Ganyu was right—he’s gone back to his old mindset. But how could he expect mercy from a god? 

“Is there another way?” Ajax’s voice almost breaks. “I can’t...I can’t go back empty-handed....”

Zhongli’s wrath seems to settle into something more reasonable after a moment of silence. “I would obviously prefer not to die. Are you giving me an ultimatum?”

Ajax takes a shaky breath. “I don’t want to.”

“But you will go back to them and kill both of us if I don’t help you?”

“I don’t...have a choice. I’m sorry.”

“Save your excuses.” He sits hard on the bed, a hand over his eyes. “I cannot believe...this is such a rare magical occurrence.... I have survived for thousands of years without....”

A silence settles over the room, Zhongli clearly lost in thought. After a minute, he says slowly, “Harm...is it about the result?” His eyes turn up, their amber glow dark. “Or is it intent?”

He stands. Ajax doesn’t feel threatened as Zhongli approaches him, head tilted in thought.

“If I...don’t intend to harm you....”

The adeptus raises his hand, and with a sudden flash of gold, a shield comes into existence around where Ajax kneels.

“Wait.” Ajax tries to stand, but it’s more like a cage than a shield. He can’t move more than a few inches. “What are you—”

“I could simply keep you like this, couldn’t I?” Now the analysis in Zhongli’s gaze strikes fear. “I’m not hurting you.”

Ajax swallows his panic. Did Ganyu really think he could reason with a god? Well, no, did she think he could reason with his erstwhile murder victim? Neither he nor Zhongli has any reason to show mercy.

Ajax presses his hands against the thin, golden barrier. Every instinct is screaming to slash at it, but he knows there’s no point. 

“I’m...trying to cooperate,” he says shakily.

“You’re threatening me,” Zhongli growls.

“To save my family.” Ajax tries to breathe because if he’s trapped here, if he fails the mission, they’ll kill them. They’ll kill them and there’s nothing he can do to stop it.

He can feel it tingling in his fingers even as he tries to battle it down. Dread rising like a black wave....

Outside the shield, Zhongli abruptly stumbles a step forward. He closes his eyes, jaw clenched. “I don’t...care...about an assassin’s family.”

And Ajax realizes...it’s not just physical pain. That’s what he felt earlier, the phantom of someone else panicking. It was Zhongli, miles away, at the moment they both realized the mark had appeared.

They feel each other’s emotions. Any strong emotion.

“Please,” Ajax whispers. He’s never begged in his life, but now he lets the darkness rising in his chest win, lets the terror following him like a shadow grab hold. “We don’t have to be enemies. You’re an ancient god, surely you can think of a way where no one gets hurt. Let’s work together.”

Zhongli twitches his head as if shaking off an irritating fly. “Why...should I....” His hand shakes where he keeps it raised. Apparently, he’s struggling to maintain the shield. 

He curses in a dialect Ajax doesn’t understand. “I...cannot....”

Ajax realizes reflecting fear of losing his family onto someone who has lost his entire people must be nothing less than torture. And Zhongli is standing there trying to bear it. He may be a fallen god, but his strength is unimaginable.

With a frustrated grunt, Zhongli lets the shield fall. “Stop.”

“I’m not trying to feel this way.” Ajax maintains the plea in his voice. “I just don’t want to lose them. You have to understand.”

“It’s not about understanding.” Zhongli glares at him, even as his body shakes. “How dare you—”

He takes a few stabilizing breaths, then sits hard on the bed again. “If you want to cooperate, you will tell me everything. Then I may choose to trust you.”

Ajax nods. Any bit of acquiescence is progress, and words rush out of him to soothe the panic. “I work for Fatui Corp. They’ve been capturing adepti and harvesting their energy. When you did an exorcism in Qingce, they recognized your energy. I was sent to find you and bring you in in case you were Morax.”

A flash of fury is quickly stifled by practical coldness, but Ajax catches it. Does Zhongli already know what the Fatui do? Does he know that his company is the one holding his friends captive? Ajax certainly won’t tell him he’s responsible for their capture.

He also doesn’t deny that he’s Morax.

“So, then?” Zhongli leans forward and folds his hands. “How did you find me?”

“It wasn’t hard,” Ajax murmurs. “I asked around and someone told me you were from Wangsheng. So I came here.”

“And pretended to be a client.”

“Yes.”

Zhongli rubs a hand over his face. “Do they know? Are there more coming?”

“I haven’t reported anything. I started in Qingce and then came here. But it wouldn’t be difficult for someone else to follow your trail.”

“How long until they expect you back?”

“I’d say two weeks before they get suspicious.”

“Is there any reason to believe that someone is monitoring your progress?”

“No. I’m always checking for a tail. No one’s followed me.” Except, well, there is the tracker....

“Very well.” Zhongli sits up with a sigh. “My cover is blown?”

“They don’t know you’re Morax. They only suspect it. And they only have a blurry photograph of you to go off of.”

“That’s not very reassuring.” Zhongli stares at the floor for a moment, gaze hard. The silence aches as he processes all the information. “Your name is actually Ajax?”

“Yes.” Ajax is not going to specify his codenames. The honesty between them only has to go so far.

“There is…something strange in your energy.” Zhongli looks back at him, eyes narrowed. “You’ve been touched by spirits, but I also sense a demonic taint. What is it?”

That, unfortunately, is necessary information. Ajax swallows. “I have another bond.”

“What?” He frowns. “How?”

“I signed a contract years ago. The CEO...owns me. She used some kind of demon magic, I have a mark and she can...track me.”

“What.” Zhongli leaps to his feet. “Why did you not say this immediately? Did they track you here?”

“Theoretically, she can tell where I am at all times.” Ajax keeps his eyes down. “But I have no idea if she’s used it before. She doesn’t micromanage. If I don’t come back in a few weeks, they might send someone to find me. Then she could tell them where I am at that moment.”

“My home has been compromised,” Zhongli growls.

“...I’m sorry.”

“We have to remove the tracker before they know you came here.” Zhongli starts pacing again. “No, it’s probably too late for that. We have to go into hiding.” He curses in that old dialect.

“You can’t just get it off. It’s some kind of demon curse.”

“Yes, well, we can’t let them track you.” Zhongli pauses, thinking, and Ajax realizes the good news—he’s cooperating, using we. “We’ll have to find a way. Show me the mark.”

He walks over. Ajax turns his head to show Zhongli the back of his neck. Every instinct screams against baring a vulnerable point to the enemy, but that instinct just makes him laugh.

Zhongli looks at it from where he stands, as if unwilling to move closer. “I’ve never seen that symbol before. We will have to investigate further.”

He observes Ajax for a second more. Then he abruptly turns, pulls a strip of cloth out of a cabinet, and tosses it to Ajax. When he looks confused, he says, “Your hand is bleeding.”

Oh. Ajax ties up his hand, although he cut a little deeper than intended. It’s going to need a proper bandage. He still feels dizzy.

Zhongli stands with his hands behind his back and head bowed for a long moment. Ajax can’t see his eyes, but his energy glows with a quiet anger that hardens second by second into bitter resolve.

“Do you wish to be freed from the Fatui’s employment?” Zhongli finally says. 

Ajax’s heart leaps. “Yes. I’ve never wanted to work for them.”

“What is required to achieve that?”

“Removing the curse. And rescuing my family. We’d have to go into hiding.” Ajax’s head spins at the thought. He never thought the opportunity would come. Not that this is an opportunity. He’ll die either way unless they figure something out.

“That may be possible.” Zhongli sighs, slow and deep. “It would appear that our interests are aligned. I have no desire to help you, but for my own safety, I will help you break your curse and rescue your family.”

“Thank you,” Ajax says quietly.

“Don’t be thankful.” His voice turns hard again. “You aren’t giving me a choice.”

“I don’t have one either.” Ajax resists matching his tone.

Zhongli snorts. “We have a great amount to deal with. But for now—”

The door abruptly bursts open. The crimson-eyed girl, Hu Tao, pauses at the entry as shock blossoms on her face. “I thought I sensed....” Her voice dies at the sight of Ajax. “Li-Li? What’s happening?”

“It’s...complicated.” Zhongli rubs a finger into his temple. “I’ll tell you tomorrow, go back to bed.”

“Complicated?” Hu Tao steps into the room. “What the hell is our client doing in your bedroom?”

“Ajax will be staying with us for a while,” Zhongli says.

“Hang on.” The girl’s face is caught between horror and humor. “There's a man in your bedroom dressed in all black with a knife and you say he's going to be staying with us for a while?”

“Yes.” Zhongli starts pushing her back out the door. “I’ll tell you in the morning, go to bed.”

“Are you in immediate danger?” she asks.

“Not as far as I’m aware.”

“But he’s either an assassin or—” She grins. “Did I...interrupt something?”

“No. Go to bed.” And with those curt words, he shuts the door in her face.

Zhongli looks at Ajax with a heavy sigh, looking suddenly weary. “It’s the middle of the night, we can figure this out tomorrow.” He walks back over. “You’ll stay here, I don’t want you out of my sight. Can I trust you to sleep on the couch?”

“Why would I mess with your stuff?” Ajax says. “I just begged you to save my life.”

Zhongli ignores his tone and holds out a hand. “Surrender your weapons.”

The syringe fell somewhere on the ground. Zhongli picks it up gingerly. Ajax feels strangely secure despite handing all his various knives over to Zhongli. He’s surrendering to the enemy. Leaving himself defenseless. But though his instincts raise the alarm, he feels no danger.

He hands over his delusion last, and Zhongli flinches when he takes it as if burned. “What is this?”

“My delusion.”

Zhongli swallows, looking at the gem as if it’s poison. “You will have to explain later.”

Ajax stumbles as he stands, but Zhongli makes no move to help him. His demeanor has become practical, but that coldness still radiates out from everything he does.

Zhongli leads him out into the living space. Ajax knows the layout of their apartment over the funeral parlor: two bedrooms, a bathroom, and this small living room with a kitchenette and couch. Everything is dark and old and a bit musty.

As he makes to sit on the couch, Zhongli stops him.

“Come here,” he says gruffly from the sink. “Hu Tao wouldn’t appreciate bloodstains on her furniture.”

Ajax washes his hand off while Zhongli rummages around and produces a paste and some bandages. “It’s an ancient Wangsheng recipe. The cut should close by morning.”

Ajax struggles to apply the paste to himself and then completely fails to wrap the bandages with one hand. Zhongli finally approaches from the healthy five-foot distance he’d been maintaining and grabs his wrist.

Ajax has to physically restrain himself from a defensive move. But Zhongli is just taking the bandages for himself and wrapping them none-too-gently around his hand. It’s clear from his hesitant grip that he’s reluctant to touch Ajax. Disgusted even.

Ajax certainly doesn’t expect anything less from someone he was supposed to kidnap. But still....

Zhongli releases him and retreats to his bedroom with a growled “Don’t touch anything and don’t even think about leaving.”

As soon as he’s gone, Ajax collapses on the couch. He's too exhausted to mull over the exact consequences of their situation, but despite all resistance, his mind inevitably turns to....

What...is happening?

Soulmates are real? Ajax has one? His soulmate is a god? A god he’s been sent to kidnap?

He runs his fingers over the mark on his collarbone, over and over, as if it’ll give him some kind of explanation. It still radiates warmth, and the mark on the back of his neck pulses angrily. He’s been bonded to an ancient god.

What is a soulmate? He thought they were a myth. Images flood him of those folk tales: star-crossed lovers and magic and adventure. It was just a silly, made-up fairy tale to entertain the children.

Except now there’s a mark burned onto his skin. 

What the fuck.

He summarizes it in the simplest way to get it out of his mind: he has a soulmate. They can’t hurt each other, so he can’t finish the mission. If he doesn’t finish the mission, his family will die. If he tries to turn himself in as bait, they’ll both die.

They have to do the impossible. Rescue his family from the clutches of the Fatui, something so insane that Ajax has never found a solution.

The biggest obstacle all these years has been the contract. If Ajax were free, he could find a way to get his family out. But with the tracker, with the CEO controlling him, it was never conceivable.

A million possible solutions whizz through his mind. But none of them are viable. Except perhaps faking his death.... But even then, there’s no guarantee the Fatui will leave my family alone. Especially if it’s not convincing. But I’d have to get the tracker off first anyway....

Gods, his head hurts. He wishes he had his medication, but it's back at the hotel.

The only good news is that he has a god on his side now. Surely an ancient, wise being can figure out how to free him from this curse?

It’s the only hope he has.

As he lies on the lumpy couch with his mind spinning, Ajax senses the delicate touch of magic settling over the room. He prepares to spring to his feet, to fight. But after every muscle tenses, he recognizes the energy as Zhongli’s and the spell a ward.

Zhongli is casting a ward over the living room. By the feel of the magic, it’s an alarm. So Zhongli will know if Ajax moves. Of course.

He knows ways to undo this kind of magic. But after feeling Zhongli’s power radiating off him in person, Ajax doesn’t kid himself that they could go toe-to-toe. Not that he’d want to escape the funeral parlor or betray the adeptus in any way.

He’s well used to being watched, and it only makes sense that Zhongli doesn’t even trust him to sleep on the couch without a ward over the room.

He can’t think anymore. Questions will be answered in the morning. Ajax falls asleep with his mind still spinning, his body driven to exhaustion.

Chapter Text

Zhongli knew something was wrong the moment he heard Hu Tao greet their new client.

He has met many a spirit-touched human in his long years, so he could sense the man downstairs was no ordinary person. That was no cause for alarm. There is nothing inherently dangerous about a magically-gifted human.

But as Zhongli made his way down the stairs to meet the client, his instincts began to roar in his ears with every step. Something was wrong. This man’s aura glowed like none he’d sensed before. It didn’t make sense; he was undeniably human, but Zhongli could feel him so clearly, so intensely....

And then, upon making eye-contact, the impossible happened. A spot on Zhongli’s collarbone burned. It took everything he had not to react because the human fell against him clutching the same spot and the significance clicked instantly.

Zhongli spent their meeting trying not to panic.

Ajax’s presence smothered his senses. He couldn’t focus—everything was blotted out by the complicated, twisted energy signature that was reaching out to and entwining with his own....

Ajax’s empty blue eyes were so distracting. They were filled with false emotions, with trickery and deceit, and when Zhongli peered closer, the human’s energy sucked him down into a vortex intent on drowning him.

A pale, cold blue, like the light of the moon, something that could be luminous but was chased and defined by shadow.... Moonlight on a dark sea, calm abyss that could burst forth with raging waves at a moment’s notice....

Soulmate.

A memory tingled in the back of Zhongli’s mind. Two star-crossed lovers he’d met two thousand years ago, their energy reading intertwined just like this.... An impossible, miraculous thing, more myth than reality and now—

Impossible. He could not have a soulmate. It was a ridiculous, insane, laughable thought—

When Ajax left, Zhongli’s mind cleared. Hu Tao was speaking to him, but he wandered vaguely to his bedroom and locked the door.

He undid his many layers and pulled them aside to see. A constellation sat against his collarbone, glowing faintly blue. Monoceros Caeli. 

That which is written in the stars. Evidence of fates intertwined.

Soulmate.

Impossible. As the first flickers of panic touched his mind, Zhongli's weakened magic reacted and he felt himself transforming, hints of his inhuman nature peeking through as his stature grew and his arms turned black-and-gold.

Still, it did not leave his skin.

Soulmate.

He could feel the human’s panic far away prickling like blood rushing back into a limb. It was undeniable, the other mind breathing alongside his own.

He felt many things then—grief and rage and despair. A human his soulmate? After all their kind has done? After everyone Morax has lost in their senseless genocide...?

But it was worse than he could imagine.

An assassin appeared in his bedroom in the night. This alone would be devastating, the fact that Morax’s identity has been found out by a major corporation that wants to murder him. But then the most impossible twist: the assassin is his soulmate.

The assassin is his soulmate. Not just a human. A murderer. He knows nothing about the boy that has stumbled into his life and now is sleeping on the couch, but it can’t be anything good.

He cannot believe it. Soulmates are such a rare occurrence that he has only witnessed it once and heard of it a handful more times in his six-thousand years in this world.

Is the universe determined to break him? Do true gods exist out there somewhere, and this is their divine justice upon him for his sins?

His ignorance allowed his people to die, but was losing them all not enough? Now he has to be punished by being eternally bound to a human?

The farce is even more devastating in its irony. His soulmate could have been anyone. Zhongli is no stranger to love. Two particular faces drift through his mind, those it hurts too much to think about.... Surely the bonds he experienced with his past partners were stronger than some cosmic accident connecting him to a random human child?

It is enough that the universe is forcing a soulmate on him. But why him?

He is quite literally the enemy.

The scene has been running through his mind relentlessly while he tried to sleep. 

His senses itched, his eyes flashed open to red hair and a syringe descending. The intruder knelt on the floor laughing. Drenched in moonlight, he was a ghost, a curse, a waking nightmare. Skin and hair blanched almost white by the strong, pale light, but eyes dark, a boundary the light didn’t dare cross. Eyes that were dead and lost. A moonless night sky.

In the face of Zhongli’s rage, all he said was “Help me.”

He was quiet, humble, a paradox after wreaking such havoc. “Thank you.”

“Don’t be thankful. You aren’t giving me a choice.”

“I don’t have one either.”

You chose to be an assassin, Zhongli wanted to say. You say you signed a contract. You chose to sign your soul away. You chose evil.

No amount of weak excuses could sway Zhongli’s heart. An intruder invaded his home and then acted as if he were begging for mercy while all the power was on his side….

Zhongli looked down at the young human as he knelt, pretending to plead. He looked at the foreign mark pulsing like a parasite on his neck. At his strange, twisted energy. He beheld this moonlight-drenched miracle.

For seven years, Morax has lived in peace. He knew it couldn’t last forever. He knew one day the humans would come hunting.

But he could have never anticipated that the shattering of his peace would come in the form of a young man in a grey suit entering their parlor. Messy red hair and a smile that didn’t reach his dead blue eyes....

Zhongli was too distracted at their first meeting to notice that they were the eyes of a predator. He saw it last night when the human unashamedly returned his gaze and issued his quiet threats.

This isn’t just any human. This is a murderer. His soul—twisted as it is—bears an ocean’s-weight of karma. And in his dead eyes, the look of one haunted by the shadow of death.

A look Zhongli has seen a thousand times. A look he himself has worn in his days of war. A look reserved for the worst.

The universe has sent me a monster as a soulmate.

Now, in the light of a new day, Zhongli intends to get a better analysis of this threat. The human’s soul has two claims; he is essentially a ticking bomb until they remove his curse.

And after.... No, there’s no time to think about the consequences. They must focus all their energy on the present. Zhongli only hopes the human is willing to cooperate.

It is with extreme trepidation that he opens his bedroom door the next morning. He did not sleep a wink—not that he needs much sleep—and instead spent the night attempting to process the abrupt shattering of his fragile seven-year stability. He shoves the door open and freezes.

After an incident a few years ago, Zhongli cast wards around his bedroom to keep out all sounds and smells—a necessary precaution to Hu Tao’s antics. He naturally keeps up the defensive wards so he’ll be warned if anything bad happens. But otherwise his bedroom is soundproof and smellproof. None of his alarms alerted him in the night that their guest was up to anything.

So it is a shock to emerge to the lights on and the smell of cooking hitting him in the face. He thought he would be awake before the others and have a bit of an advantage to prepare for the day. But instead he comes face to face with Hu Tao at the stove, chatting animatedly while she fries something, and Ajax sitting at the kitchen table, listening attentively.

“Ah, Li-Li, good morning!” Hu Tao’s smirk tells him she already knows everything. “Sleep well?”

“Something’s burning,” he says in reply.

And indeed, Hu Tao turns with a yelp to the flame leaping out of her pan. While she attempts to tame her cooking, Zhongli moves forward. Ajax’s eyes follow him. The smile he’d been wearing slides off.

Zhongli grips the back of a chair and regards Ajax. “You’ve caught my colleague up to speed?”

The would-be assassin looks like he didn’t sleep either, but perhaps his eyes are tired and dead in a permanent kind of way. His hair and clothes are a bit messy, and even as he sits relaxed at their table, all of Zhongli’s senses tingle with dread.

He radiates danger. The strange, twisted things in his energy signature are only slightly masked by the underlying hum of their fresh bond. A bond that in theory should be soothing, but only makes bile rise in Zhongli’s throat.

“Colleague?” Ajax’s light, breezy tone rubs Zhongli the wrong way. “Not sister?”

Zhongli frowns even as Hu Tao cackles, “I can’t believe my only parental figure let an assassin sleep on our couch and didn’t bother to tell me about it.”

“I intended to tell you this morning,” Zhongli says. “But yes, I am legally her brother and guardian.”

“And a pretty shit one at that!” Hu Tao flips the contents of her pan, and the kitchen fills with the smell of burnt vegetables. “Imagine my shock when, sensing a disturbance in the night, I run to save my dear brother and come upon an attempted assassination—”

“Hu Tao.”

“—only to be told that I am not to worry and be shoved out the door.” Her smile is too cheeky for this early in the morning. “Which frankly gave me entirely the wrong idea—”

“Hu Tao.”

“What? It’s not my fault you gave me the wrong impression. Some explanation would’ve been nice.” Her grin grows. “I was surprised when I found him sleeping on the couch instead of—”

“Sit down,” Zhongli sighs and pushes her away from the stove, where he proceeds to try to rescue their breakfast. “What has he told you?”

Hu Tao flops into a chair with a huff. “He’s an assassin, works for the Fatui, but when he tried to stab you, he couldn’t because you’re soulmates or some shit. And they’ll kill his family if he doesn’t kill you, bla, bla, bla.”

“Well, then, you are up to speed.” Zhongli pours more oil into the pan.

“So now we have a pet assassin!” Hu Tao leans forward, chin in hand, eyes gleaming threateningly at Ajax. To his credit, he looks more amused than put off.

Zhongli stares into the pan, where whatever ingredients Hu Tao originally used have been reduced to burned mush. His refined palate refuses the thought, and he abandons Hu Tao’s creation to pull some pork buns out of the ice-box. 

“There is only one course of action I can identity,” he says as he puts the buns in the oven to warm them. “First we must break whatever claim they have over him to remove the tracker. Afterward, we have to find a way to get his family to a safe location. However....” He sighs. “We will still have to hide from them for the foreseeable future. I assume they will not stop hunting me.”

He retrieves the buns from the oven and sets them on the table.

“They won’t stop,” Ajax says quietly. “But they have no intel on you. If we disappear, it’s a dead end.”

“You didn’t tell them he’s here?” Hu Tao asks. 

Ajax shrugs. “I haven’t told them anything. I always get the job done, so they expect me to disappear for weeks and then come back with the target taken care of.”

“Ooo, scary!” Hu Tao stabs a pork bun with her chopsticks, and Zhongli winces at her manners. Mouth full, she says, “You really almost died, Li-Li!”

“Yes, you did manage to disable my wards.” Zhongli feels a trickle of anger run through him at the thought. What else can the Fatui’s agents do? If they have been hunting adepti, is this assassin responsible for the deaths of others who went into hibernation?

“You woke up,” Ajax says. “I think you would have killed me easily.”

Zhongli frowns. He says it so matter-of-factly, expression dull. “You expected to fail?”

“I knew this was a suicide mission.” When Ajax smiles, it’s the shadow of a real emotion. A trick of the light, reflecting nothing beneath. “I didn’t want to kill you anyway. I’m sorry for inconveniencing you with this bond, but if this means there’s a way to get my family out, then I’m glad it happened.”

Zhongli remembers him saying I have no loyalty towards my employers. Then why sign a contract? If he doesn’t enjoy his work and he would betray them so easily, how did the Fatui hire him in the first place?

Ajax’s stomach growls, interrupting the tension. Zhongli pushes the plate of buns towards him, but his eyes grow hesitant. 

“Eat,” Zhongli says. “It’s not poisoned, obviously.”

“I...can’t use chopsticks.” For the first time, Ajax’s face shows a real expression, red as he looks at the utensils set before him. It’s the most human thing he’s shown.

Hu Tao lets out a loud snort, and Zhongli says, “You can use your hands. Please pardon Hu Tao’s manners. She has always resisted convention.”

As if to spite him, Hu Tao stabs another bun and attempts to stuff the entire thing in her mouth. Ajax picks one up and takes a delicate bite.

“Thank you,” he says. “You have been very hospitable, considering the circumstances.”

“We are allies now.” Zhongli’s voice comes out colder as he remembers the circumstances. “And you are our guest.”

“Thank you anyway,” Ajax says softly. He finishes the bun politely, but his stomach growls again.

Hu Tao laughs and shoves two more in his hands. “Eat up! We have dozens in the ice-box.”

“You are actually from Snezhnaya?” Zhongli asks before he can stop himself. The less he knows about Ajax, the better. He doesn’t want to get to know him. He wants to keep this as professional as possible. But he can’t stop curiosity about the assassin humbly eating pork buns in front of him from slipping out.

“Yes,” Ajax replies. Thankfully, he also seems to not want to elaborate on personal details.

“You don’t have an accent.” Hu Tao cocks her head.

“It’s just part of the necessary skillset,” Ajax says. “I need to blend in anywhere.”

No matter how natural his accent, he has no chance of blending in in Liyue with hair that bright. There is a large population of foreigners in Liyue these days, but he’d still stand out a mile away.

“If it’s not too personal to ask,” Ajax begins, “how did...this happen?” He gestures between them.

It is entirely too personal, but Hu Tao jumps to answer before Zhongli can say so. “Ah, I found this guy dead on the street seven years ago.”

“Hu Tao!” he admonishes.

“What?” Her grin is sheepish. “I thought he wasn’t the enemy?”

Zhongli glances at Ajax, who shrugs. “You probably shouldn’t trust me with any information. As long as they can track me, I’m a liability.”

“If they get you, they get me,” Zhongli realizes out loud. “I suppose there’s no point in keeping information from you. If they get their hands on you, everything is lost anyway.”

“Ooo, so I can tell him all your secrets?” Hu Tao raises a devious eyebrow.

“And what secrets would those be?”

She shrugs. “How you hate seafood? I’m sure the Fatui could use that as a weapon somehow.”

Her attempts to inject humor into the emergency are somehow actually relaxing. Zhongli sighs. “Hu Tao, this is serious.”

“Hey, I’m just trying to understand.” She twirls her chopsticks. “After all, I wasn’t informed of anything, so I’m a bit out of the loop.”

Ajax watches their exchange with a small smile, and that kicks Zhongli back to focus. There is no time for antics when an active threat sits at their kitchen table.

“Well, you’re in it now. We need a plan,” he says. “The tracker is of primary importance. Once we remove it, we will be much safer.”

“Shouldn’t we get my family first?” Ajax says. “If I go AWOL, they’ll kill them.”

Zhongli folds his arms in thought. “If we play this right, we can fake your death. They should leave your family alone, then, right? They will have no more use for them.”

Ajax looks uncomfortable at the thought. “Maybe.”

“At the exact time we remove the curse, we can make it look like I killed you. Then it will appear as if you simply failed the mission.”

“How?”

Zhongli looks at him. “There are ways. But first, we must figure out the nature of your curse.”

“But after we fake my death, we’ll get my family to a safe place, right?” Zhongli feels that horrible anxiety prickling from Ajax again.

“Yes. Once the Fatui’s guard is down, we can get your family.” He puts a finger on his chin. “I’m not sure how, we don’t exactly have the manpower for a large operation. But the curse is the priority.”

Ajax stares at the table, expression empty.

“Show me your other mark again,” Zhongli says.

The assassin turns his head to bare the back of his neck. Zhongli cringes internally at the need to get close to him. He moves his chair to be eye-level with the mark.

A full-body shiver goes through Ajax when Zhongli ghosts a finger over it. It’s icy blue, the same size as the soulmate mark, and glows in much the same way. But the symbol itself...Zhongli has never seen it before.

A strange whispering clouds it when he looks at his soul, like white, poisonous vapor. Certainly a demonic taint. Like the remains of old, malevolent "gods" killed millennia ago. Spirit beings like Morax himself who allowed themselves to be corrupted.

He presses his finger harder, and Ajax flinches.

“Did that hurt?” Zhongli’s breath ruffles the back of his hair. Of course, he knows the answer, felt the phantom of pain flare on his own neck.

Ajax’s entire body is tense. “Yeah. It…doesn’t like you.”

“Doesn’t like me?”

“It burns. Like it’s trying to repel you. I feel like it’s…fighting with the other mark.”

“Turn around,” Zhongli says. “Show me”—he hates to say it like this—“ours.”

Ajax swivels in his seat so they’re face to face. Zhongli tries to ignore how close they are as Ajax unbuttons the top button and pulls his shirt aside.

The constellation of Lapis Dei—his constellation—sits on the human’s collarbone. He starts to reach out but remembers to ask this time, “May I?”

Ajax nods. His face goes red when Zhongli traces it lightly.

It is a strange sensation as he feels the mark on his own chest tingle at the contact. Like a vulnerable point, the proof to the universe that they are bonded, a physical declaration of cosmic activity.

It’s uncomfortable, almost as if he’s touching Ajax’s soul itself. The other’s energy roars in his ears like he’s tapped into a waterfall, a deluge flooding him.

Many astrologers claim that the constellation one is born under decides their fate. Morax was not born, not in the human sense. But when mapping the night sky, human scholars named this coincidence of stars after him thousands of years ago. They honored each “archon” with their own constellation. And now, in the post-archon world, all that remains of the legacy of Teyvat’s guardians are statues and names, any real influence ground to dust.

The mark on his own chest must be the one Ajax was born under. Zhongli still has no idea how soulmates are made, but the shape of the mark is a clear mockery of free will, evidence of the decree of fate itself. Something as helpless as birth decides one’s fate.

Hu Tao watching attentively—chair leaned back, feet on the table, an eyebrow raised—snaps Zhongli’s focus back. He clears his throat. “How does this feel?”

Ajax’s face is bright red. He looks away. “Fine.”

He’s not saying it, but Zhongli knows. It feels comfortable, soothing, right. Like he’s dipping into a vast, calm ocean. Ajax’s energy, like water—while dark and poisoned in the depths below—is warm and tranquil at the point where they touch.

And that is enough to spark rage in Zhongli's heart. He retracts his hand.

“The other one still burned,” Ajax mutters. “Something conflicts about them.”

Zhongli sits back. “I genuinely have never seen that symbol before. It’s certainly a demonic curse, some kind of parasite on your soul? No doubt the Fatui have fashioned a magical curse from the remains of some powerful spirit being. It makes sense that it wouldn’t like your soul being attached to anything else.”

Ajax’s eyes return to his, dead and hesitant. “Can I...see yours?”

Zhongli swallows and turns back to the table. “I don’t see how that’s relevant.”

“It’s only fair.”

It’s intimate, far too intimate. “I would rather not.”

Ajax buttons his shirt, still unnervingly expressionless.

“Well, it seems we need to do some research. Do you have any idea where to start?” Zhongli asks. “Has anyone told you anything about the curse?”

“Not really,” Ajax says. “I think I was the first they tried this on. They may have experimented on more people since.”

“What do you remember from when it happened?”

Ajax leans back in his seat, gaze lost. “I signed a piece of paper. Then some people came and strapped me to a table and injected me with something. It burned like I was dying. They said hours passed, but eventually I made it through the fever and survived. After that, this mark was on me.”

“That’s all you remember?” Zhongli asks.

Ajax shrugs. “It was ten years ago.”

“Ten years?!” Hu Tao sits up, chair feet banging the floor. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-four.”

“You were fourteen when they did this to you?” She leans forward, eyes wide.

“Yeah.” Ajax folds his arms as if unbothered, but discomfort prickles in his expression.

Zhongli swallows. He will absolutely not feel pity. But the thought is still disturbing. “Did you know what you were consenting to?”

Ajax’s jaw clenches as he looks at the floor. “Of course not. I signed away all my rights.”

The question of why lingers in the air, but Zhongli doesn’t want to get too personal. At least this explains why he doesn’t have any loyalty to his employers.

“You were a child.” Hu Tao looks furious. “What the fuck is wrong with them?”

He shrugs again. “Compared to what they’ve done to others, even offering a contract was gracious for the Fatui.”

“So when you say the CEO owns you....” Zhongli begins.

“I mean literally.” Ajax’s eyes are so very dead. “Legally, my body belongs to the Fatui.”

“How is that possible?” Hu Tao frowns.

“The own the country, they can do whatever they want,” Ajax says. “The Qixing are pretty benevolent in comparison. A system of credit and debt to keep the people in their place is better than all the extrajudicial execution and experimentation the Fatui get up to. Well.” His gaze darkens. “I can’t say the Fatui haven’t loaned me to the Qixing before.”

“You mean….”

Ajax tightens his folded arms as if protecting himself. “When other companies need something done off the books, they come to us. The Qixing have the hypocrisy to pretend that they all least follow their own corrupt laws. But even that’s a lie.”

“I thought our countries weren’t on good terms,” Hu Tao says.

Ajax smiles weakly. “The Big Seven and the Fatui and every other corporation have many more common interests than competition. If the people get any power in one country, they’re all threatened.”

Zhongli sits in growing, boiling anger as the reality he’s avoided slams him in the face. He never wanted to come to terms with how twisted the world has become. And now the evidence sits at his kitchen table.

“The Qixing,” he nearly growls, “my Qixing, have been hiring foreign assassins to pick off their own people?”

Ajax nods.

For once anger wins over despair. Zhongli has been jaded for so long, lost all the fury he should feel at the state of the world. Now it is tumbling and roaring in his ears. Ajax’s words stoke his fighting spirit.

But before it can build fully, guilt cuts in—a slice of purple across his red vision. Zhongli has no right to be angry when he is also at fault. His ignorance allowed the world to become this way.

He sags as the anger is stolen from him.

Maybe Ajax is a curse from the universe. A symbol of Morax’s failure shoved in his face. A soulmate that is representative of everything that has gone wrong since he turned a blind eye to the humans’ greed.

Now he can’t help the pity that creeps across his heart. Regardless of his choices, Ajax is yet another victim of the system. A very complicit victim, but a victim nonetheless.

He still won’t ask why Ajax signed his life away, but Zhongli can’t deny that a fourteen-year-old couldn’t possibly have the maturity to consent to something of that magnitude. And he’s been a prisoner since. Instead of a dangerous Fatui assassin, it may be more correct to think of him as a pitiful Fatui experiment.

Zhongli folds his arms and tries to get a hold of his emotions. “What they have done to the world and to you is unforgivable.”

Ajax looks at him for a moment and then says quietly, “I was told that Morax may be the last hope for this world returning to a kinder one.”

Zhongli’s fist tightens. Is that what this is? Some kind of sick motivation to take back his empire? He remembers what Hu Tao’s grandfather told him years ago: There are still those of us who worship you, who believed you would return one day.

“Morax is dead,” Zhongli says.

The two soulmates hold each other’s eyes, dull blue and bright amber both dark. A night sky empty of stars and a sun eclipsed.

“You know, I never believed in adepti growing up,” Ajax says, voice soft. “It only made me sad when I found out adepti were real—all the myths and fairy tales—the same time I found out they were all gone. But they aren’t completely, are they? You’re real.”

“I am no longer a god.” Zhongli breaks eye-contact. “My kind is gone.” There’s no hope for this world.

“Li-Li....” Hu Tao frowns.

“Anyway, we don’t have time to discuss politics.” Zhongli leans forward and clears his throat. “We have to cleanse your curse. Does anyone have any ideas?”

“Other than breaking into Fatui HQ and trying to find who did this to me?” Ajax shakes his head. “No.”

The three sit in depressive silence for a minute before Hu Tao sighs. “Well, I mean, there’s always my friends.”

Zhongli frowns. “Are you talking about...?”

“The resistance? Yeah.”

“That’s too dangerous,” he says. 

“So? We were friends long before they started doing illegal stuff.”

“The Qixing are watching them.”

“We’re basically fugitives now too, you know.”

Zhongli sighs. “What makes you think they would know anything?”

“They’ve seen crazy magic stuff on the underground trade. They have connections to all the black market dealers, people who do weird experiments, anything the Qixing don’t want to see daylight.”

Zhongli stares at the table, arms crossed, until Hu Tao sighs, “Do you have a better idea?”

“Who are these people?” Ajax asks.

“My friends, Xingqiu, Chongyun, and Xiangling,” Hu Tao says. “They’re kind of a...well—”

“A gang?” Zhongli supplies.

“Freedom fighters.” Hu Tao gives him a glare. “I mean, they don’t fight anyone. They just help people out when they’ve been screwed by the government and big business.”

“Children playing vigilante,” Zhongli mutters.

“Activists,” Hu Tao insists. “Like what we do but they actually make a difference.”

“Because they break the law,” he says. “And are one mistake away from getting locked up.”

Hu Tao’s glare ripples with something more serious underneath. Something she’s yelled at him in the past in the heat of a real argument. They’re not cowards. They’re willing to take risks to make the world better.

Zhongli is done fighting. He knows she means well, but as long as he’s her guardian, he won’t let her risk her future by hanging out with would-be vigilantes.

“Like I said, do you have a better idea?” she insists.

“No,” he mutters. “It’s...true they may have connections with someone who knows something.”

“Then let’s go.” Hu Tao stands with a screech of her chair.

“Hold on.” Zhongli shakes his head. “Not today. We need to go through their backchannels and set up a meeting we know won’t be watched.”

She sighs and flops back down dramatically.

“I’ll make the arrangements,” he says. “In the meantime, we should at least try to do our own research. We have a good collection of tomes on magical arts here.”

“Reading?” Hu Tao whines.

“Yes.” Now Zhongli returns the glare. “If you would like to be involved, I won’t have you acting careless like you usually do.”

“I’m not careless.”

Zhongli raises an eyebrow at the memory of the recent kitchen-destruction. “This is life or death now, Hu Tao. You have to do what I say.”

“I’m almost eighteen,” she mutters.

“Almost,” he repeats. “And I’m still your guardian until then.”

“You’re no fun.” She slumps onto the table.

He knows she’s not nearly as ridiculous as she likes to act. She can be quite solemn and serious when the situation calls for it. Despite her complaints, he trusts her wholeheartedly.

Their guest on the other hand....

“I’d like to make a contract.” Zhongli offers a hand to Ajax.

He eyes it hesitantly. “A contract?”

Ah, perhaps not the best word choice, considering his past. “A promise. I’m not sure how much stock you put by honor, but I will trust you more readily if you swear not to betray me. In exchange, I will swear to help rescue your family.”

“Okay.” Ajax takes his hand, firm and serious. “I swear to never betray you.”

“You are making a contract with the god of contracts,” Zhongli reminds him.

“I know.” His dead eyes are dark. “I keep my promises.”

There’s something almost threatening in the conviction he says it with. But it’s reassuring. They agree on the importance of promises, at least.

“Good,” Zhongli says. “I swear to do everything in my power to rescue your family.”

There is palpable relief in the softening of Ajax’s hand. “Then we’re officially allies.”

“Yes.” Not that we have any choice, he refrains from saying.

Zhongli gazes critically into his eyes as they clasp hands. He could easily see into this human’s soul if he desired. With their connection, walking in his dreams and examining his mind would be as natural as breathing. He could see if anything in there hints of betrayal.

But he doesn’t want to get any closer than necessary. Asking about Ajax’s curse already revealed far too much about his past. Zhongli will have to trust this contract.

He is struck again by the look in his eyes. They are chillingly dead. Cold, empty, like the eyes of a deep-sea predator.

Not bitter or sad. Just dead. Void of any emotion.

It makes Zhongli shiver. He’s seen many terrifying, devastating things, but nothing shakes him deeper than the lifelessness in the gaze of the man to whom he’s now bound.

Even when he laughs, when his face lights up, it’s cold like the moon. False light, only reflecting others. Fake, flashing suddenly into being and then sinking back beneath the surface. There is nothing warm in him. At least nothing authentic. The way he smiles is like a puppet trained to trick its prey.

Hu Tao, sprawled on the table, glances between them as they maintain eye-contact. Zhongli drops Ajax’s hand with a cough. “You two start researching. I’ll go contact the resistance.”

“My things are still at the hotel,” Ajax says.

“Fine,” Zhongli sighs. “Come with me and we’ll stop by there.”

“You really don’t want to let me out of your sight.” Ajax cocks an eyebrow.

“We have only begun building trust,” Zhongli says brusquely. “And it’s safer if we stay together at all times anyway.”

He stands, and Ajax follows with a look of acquiescence. “Let’s go. Hu Tao, start reading.”

She groans, but he knows she’ll do it. “Be safe.”

“We will.”

Zhongli takes a moment to breathe as they make their way downstairs. It’s only the first morning since their lives changed forever and it already feels like a week of stress. But there’s no time to process. Zhongli must take their situation in stride.

Thankfully, neither Ajax nor Hu Tao has asked what soulmates are yet. They’ve been entirely focused on the curse. Zhongli is reluctant to discuss the details of what will happen to them. He’s dreading the inevitable consequences of having his soul bound to another.

As far as he’s concerned, Ajax is a curse. Zhongli can only do his best to mitigate the effects of their bond.

They are allies now. He will protect Ajax and his family because he must. He can’t hate the human after hearing how the Fatui corrupted him at such a young age, but that is the extent of it. Tolerance is all the feeling he’s willing to give.

Chapter Text

The underbelly of Liyue Harbor is a dark and grimy place. In the aching heat of summer, it is stiflingly humid. This neighborhood is a jumble of crumbling buildings, scaffolding, stalls and seedy stores and restaurants spilling into the streets. A press of people in a hurry, street vendors yelling, the rich and beggars alike. Steam and every smell imaginable cloud the air. Advertisements take every free space. It’s somehow both infinitely colorful and entirely grey.

The so-called resistance has taken residence somewhere around here. Zhongli knows them well, as Hu Tao used to hang out with the three a lot.

Xiangling and Chongyun dropped out of school a while ago. As far as Zhongli is aware, they spend their days defying the Qixing with clandestine activities. Chongyun’s family used to be prominent exorcists until big business ran them out, so he helps people with spirit disturbances much like Hu Tao. Xiangling’s father’s restaurant is a front for helping people escape from debt. 

And Xingqiu leads a risky double life, stealing both money and information from his rich family to share with people who need it. He’s expected to graduate from a prestigious university and join his family in the government. Zhongli’s not sure how sustainable his double life will be once he works for the Qixing.

“Could I have my delusion back?” Ajax mutters as they make their way through a sticky crowd. His eyes scan the street, ever vigilant.

“I’ll give it back if we get into a fight,” Zhongli says.

“You still don’t trust me? I swore not to betray you.”

“Yes, well.” Zhongli dodges a street vendor waving something in his face.

Ajax glances at him. “This relationship doesn’t feel very equal.”

He holds back a snort. “I am still the would-be victim here. My hesitance is understandable.”

“How are we supposed to work together if we don’t trust each other?”

Zhongli opts to take that question as rhetorical. They duck past a dirty advertisement banner into a narrow alleyway.

“Right over here.” Hu Tao squints at the hand-drawn map on the paper napkin in her hand. Easy to dissolve if the authorities ask questions. “Down this way.”

They turn into an impossibly-tighter alley. The walls are filthy and only dim sunlight makes its way through the clutter of walkways and things hanging above.

“Here.” Hu Tao stops suddenly, Zhongli walks into her, and Ajax walks into him. Zhongli’s balance is impeccable, but Ajax falls into him for a second. He resists shoving him off.

“Should be right....” Hu Tao runs a hand along the wall. “Here.” One of her rings glows with spirit energy and a portion of the wall shimmers like heat waves to reveal a door.

“Nice.” She grins.

The metal door creaks open, and the three enter a small, dingy room. It looks like a storeroom, filled with crates. Three familiar faces are waiting inside.

“Hu Tao!” Xiangling squeals and pulls her in. “It’s been too long!”

“Hey, guys.” Hu Tao’s grin widens as she hugs her friends.

Xiangling, Chongyun, and Xingqiu. The three are dressed in dark, unassuming clothes. They look healthy, despite their risky lifestyle.

“Zhongli-xiansheng.” Xingqiu bows too low. “I trust you have been well?”

“Hopefully with your help today, I will be.” Zhongli smiles.

“Thanks for agreeing to meet,” Hu Tao says.

Zhongli almost feels bad as the three friends exclaim “Of course!” at the same time. Clearly, the teenagers have missed Hu Tao.

The atmosphere changes abruptly as Ajax steps in behind them and shuts the door. The three immediately take up defensive postures.

“Hu Tao, what is this?” Chongyun growls, drawing a knife and throwing an arm in front of the other two. Their eyes are fixed on Ajax in fear.

“What do you mean?” Hu Tao blinks, bewildered.

“Why would you bring a Fatui Harbinger to our safe house?” Xingqiu frowns sternly as he moves from behind Chongyun’s arm.

“A Harbinger? ” Hu Tao looks at Ajax. “You’re one of the leaders?”

“What?” Zhongli also finds himself instinctively moving to a defensive position as his blood pressure shoots through the roof. Now all five are facing Ajax who—despite the sudden tension—stands relaxed.

His empty eyes swipe over the resistance members. “You know who I am?”

“Oh, we know you.” Xiangling’s voice bristles with venom. “Tartaglia, 11th Harbinger.”

“Tartaglia?” Zhongli tries to keep his voice level as his mind spins. He doesn’t know the name.

“The newest member.” Xingqiu’s hand is also on the knife on his belt. “Previously known as Childe. We get a lot of noise down here in the underground, and if the rumors are true, you’ve killed some of our friends.”

He’s a Harbinger? One of the leaders of the Fatui? Zhongli’s blood starts to boil because this screams of danger and outright betrayal— 

He rounds on him. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

Ajax’s eyes are dark and wary. “It wasn’t relevant.”

“How could it not be relevant?” Zhongli moves defensively in front of the teenagers. “If you’re one of their leaders, they won’t let you go easily.”

Ajax’s hand twitches, as if wanting to reach for a weapon he doesn’t have. “They wouldn’t let me go either way.”

Zhongli tries to keep a reign on his energy, but he can feel a firestorm growing by the second, red-hot anger licking up his throat. “What’s this talk about trust then?” he nearly growls. “You kept important information from us.”

The ex-assassin finally breaks eye-contact. “I didn’t want you to know.”

“Why?” Zhongli spits. “My opinion of you couldn’t be lower anyway.”

Ajax flinches, barely perceptible, and keeps his gaze on the ground.

“Oh, it could be,” Xingqiu says and moves forward. “Childe has taken care of a few adepti.”

“I had surmised as much,” Zhongli says, voice dangerously low. “So?”

Xingqiu’s gaze is too perceptive for someone so young as he glances between them. “Including some close to the Lord of Geo himself.”

If his mind wasn’t clouded by growing rage, Zhongli would stop to think, How does he know? But the anger barrels him right past the implication of his identity. He hasn’t heard a hint of any of his family being alive in all these years and now Xingqiu is saying Ajax killed his family members.

“Who?” He directs the question to Ajax, whose eyes are on the floor.

Ajax only swallows.

“Tell me.” Zhongli advances on him. “Who did you kill?”

“They’re still alive,” he mutters.

“Who? ”

When the ex-assassin remains silent, Zhongli reaches out in anger to grab him, to make him look at him, but damn this bond —his hand glances around Ajax like there’s an invisible shield and instead plunges into the wall behind him.

Ajax blinks up, eyes at last betraying fear at the unintentional force that drove Zhongli’s fist inches into the concrete wall. Cracks spread as he leans in until Ajax has to look at him. “Tell me.”

The fear ripples through dead blue like waves swallowed by the ocean until its surface is calm. “A few years ago,” he says quietly, “I took in two adepti named Ganyu and Xiao.”

Only the knowledge that three acquaintances are watching stops Zhongli from reacting emotionally. But he knows Ajax can feel it—the rage and relief and storm of things that rush through him. The storm that drives him closer until there’s only a foot between their faces and his fist is spreading more cracks along the wall.

“They’re alive,” Ajax whispers, glancing between his eyes. “I saw them before I left. They’re—”

“Prisoners,” Zhongli breathes. “You took my children to be test subjects of the Fatui?”

Well, if Xingqiu and the others didn’t already know, he’s outed himself now. In this moment, he couldn’t care less. His vision has narrowed to the human trapped between him and the wall.

“Yes,” Ajax says.

“What are they doing to them?”

“Zhongli,” Hu Tao interrupts. “Could we have this conversation—”

“What are they doing to them? ” Zhongli’s thankful he’s incapable of physical violence right now.

“I-I don’t know exactly.” Ajax at least has the decency to not look away anymore. “You wouldn’t want to know.”

Zhongli’s imagination is surely much worse than the truth. He can’t, he can’t imagine it because that is simply too much—

“I’m sorry,” Ajax murmurs. “I.... They’re still strong, they....”

Zhongli shoves off the wall and turns away. The vortex of rage has dragged him down into a flood of defeat and nausea. The room is silent as he paces, feeling sick, then sits hard on a crate and puts a hand over his face.

“Li-Li....” The pity in Hu Tao’s voice makes him sicker. He knows she’s never seen him lose his composure in front of others, even in front of her.

“Go ahead,” he mutters through his turning stomach. “Get back to business. Ask about the curse.”

The hostility in the air hasn’t dropped, but his outburst has lowered their defenses. The three teenagers have clearly realized that their problems with Ajax are eclipsed by Zhongli’s, and they listen as Hu Tao starts explaining and Ajax shows them the mark on his neck.

All the while, Zhongli sits and tries to breathe.

After all these years...some of his family is left. He isn’t alone.

But he might as well be. He never thought he would have to go through the grief process again. He thought it was over. He fell into hibernation as his family was slaughtered, and when he woke to find even his children slain, he thought that was the end.

But they are alive...two of his dearest...and he must face these emotions once more.

Just as his anger rose yesterday, it falls away again to the nausea of guilt. He can blame Ajax—he certainly can—but he can’t deny an equal fault on his part. He failed to protect them and now they’re being held in some Fatui prison somewhere, being—

“Li-Li,” Hu Tao interrupts his thoughts. “Did you hear that?”

Zhongli arranges his face to cold stone before he looks up. “What?”

“I recognize this mark,” Xingqiu says.

“You do?” Zhongli stands to join them. “How?”

“I read a lot.” His knowing smile tips Zhongli off that maybe he should find and destroy every copy of Rex Incognito. “I’ve seen this in a really old book. There was a rare species of demon centuries ago that would mark its prey with this symbol. They were like herders, they would feed of their prey’s energy over years, so this curse was meant to keep the prey docile.”

Zhongli glances at Ajax, whose face is unreadable. “Do you know anything about this?”

“No.” Ajax doesn’t meet his eyes. “All I knew is that it was a tracker.”

“That would make sense.” Xingqiu strokes his chin. “The demon would want to know where their herd is at all times.”

“But there was no demon involved, was there?” Zhongli says.

Ajax shakes his head. “They just injected me with something. I was told it connects me with the CEO. But she’s obviously not a demon.”

“So they’ve developed a technology using this demon’s technique,” Xingqiu muses. “Perhaps the injection used demon blood? There are many uses for demon blood in alchemy. You can adapt a curse to a less potent, targeted version….”

“Alchemy.” Xiangling’s eyes furrow in thought and then widen. “You know, remember what our contact in Mondstadt was telling us last week?”

“About the fight over that demon blood?” Chongyun says.

“Yeah!” She nods. “He says the Knights and the Fatui have been arguing over patents lately. Something using demon blood.”

“Contact in Mondstadt?” Hu Tao says.

“Our contact keeps us updated on the Knights of Favonious’s chief science officer’s experiments,” Chongyun explains. “And he says there’s chatter that the Knights stole some technology the Fatui were developing. It’s all very off-the-books, so they can’t sue publicly.”

“If they can develop a magical tracker, that would be pretty useful technology,” Xingqiu says thoughtfully.

“This happened ten years ago.” Zhongli gestures to Ajax. “Why would it be related to some technology they’re developing now?”

“Well.” Xingqiu frowns. “The Knights only stole this demon blood recently. Who knows how long the Fatui have been working on it?”

“Our contact would know more,” Xiangling says. “If the demon blood the Knights and the Fatui are fighting over is related to this, maybe he could help you.”

The sizable if there doesn’t inspire much confidence.

“Who is your contact in Mondstadt?” Zhongli asks.

“We have correspondence with people trying to do what we do in other nations,” Xiangling says. “A kind of underground network. This person has been resisting the Knights for years. Spying on them. Taking care of the people.”

“So we have to go to Mondstadt?” Hu Tao’s smile is too cheerful for the situation.

“That’s what I would recommend.” Xingqiu nods. “We don’t exactly have contact information for this man, but I think I know where you can find him.”

“Does he have a name?” Zhongli folds his arms.

“We do everything anonymously, of course,” Xiangling says. “But he’s known as the Darknight Hero.”

“The Dark Knight?” Zhongli scoffs.

She shrugs. “The locals think of him as a hero. He helps people who’ve been hurt by the government.”

“Wonderful,” Zhongli sighs. “Another vigilante.”

“We’re not vigilantes.” Xiangling crosses her arms.

“You call yourselves ‘the resistance.’”

“Because we resist,” Chongyun says. “We’re not willing to accept the system.”

Zhongli holds back the retort of you’re children, you couldn’t possibly imagine the true devastation of a world turned against you.

They can clearly see the doubt in his gaze anyway.

“If each one of us puts forth our best effort, the return of justice is inevitable.” Xingqiu’s eyes shine with what could be inspirational conviction if Zhongli didn’t see it as mere naivete.

“It’s my opinion,” he says quietly, “that you should give up this dream before you get hurt.”

“All it takes for evil to win is for good people to do nothing,” Xingqiu says defiantly. “We won’t abandon the people of Liyue when there’s something we can do to help.”

The naive, pretty words of this little human cut deeper than Zhongli is willing to admit. Especially when the three staring him boldly in the eyes almost certainly know his true identity. He’s failed all his citizens—adepti and human.

He feels Ajax watching him. I was told that Morax may be the last hope of this world returning to a kinder one.

But Morax is dead. And Zhongli is so tired.

So no matter what Hu Tao has yelled at him before, it takes all his effort to keep her, and now Ajax, safe. He doesn’t have any left to spare for revolution.

Not to mention that Ajax’s revelation of Ganyu and Xiao’s fate just took all the wind out of him.

“Well, thank you for the information,” he says. “Where can we find this man?”

Xingqiu looks sad at Zhongli’s acquiescence, as if he was ready for a fight. “He’ll be at a bar called Angel’s Share. You can give him my codename, Zhenyu.”

“Thank you,” Zhongli repeats, voice cooler. “This has been very helpful. We should get going, then. It’s a long journey.”

“Yeah, thanks guys!” Hu Tao hugs her friends as Zhongli starts to move towards the door.

“Good luck.” Xiangling squeezes Hu Tao’s arm. “Still not sure what’s going on here, but I’m glad we could help.”

The three vigilantes glance between Hu Tao and Ajax. Zhongli would like to grant them the courtesy of an explanation as to why they’re with a Fatui Harbinger, but the truth is too dangerous.

However, Ajax, the idiot, seems to have other ideas. He lingers as the other two walk to the door. “I’m sorry for anything I’ve done to hurt your friends. If you’d like revenge....”

There are three distinct reactions: anger from Xiangling, coldness from Chongyun, and dark analysis from Xingqiu.

“You’re quitting the Fatui, right?” the latter says before Zhongli can intervene.

“Yes.”

“Vengeance isn’t justice.” Xingqiu’s right fist loosens. “I’d ask that you make up for what you’ve done by fighting for justice.”

Ajax nods. “I—”

Zhongli grabs his arm before he can go swearing to fight alongside these vigilantes or something equally foolish and pulls him to the door.

“Thanks again, guys!” Hu Tao gives a wave as the three exit the room.

In the alleyway, Zhongli drops his arm, but then Hu Tao unexpectedly shoves her way in-between them and whacks Ajax on the head.

“What are you doing, dummy?” She glares at him. “You can’t offer yourself for revenge when you’re connected to Zhongli.”

“You shouldn’t hit me when I’m connected to him, either,” he mutters.

“Very funny.” She rolls her eyes.

“For the record,” Zhongli mutters as he starts walking, “if someone truly desired revenge, I would not stand in their way.”

“Idiots, both of you,” Hu Tao says. “You’re lucky my friends are good people.”

“What I am concerned about is you making contracts with vigilantes.” He doesn’t look at Ajax. “We don’t have time to fight for justice.”

“I couldn’t refuse someone asking something like that.”

“Who are you attempting to impress?” Zhongli doesn’t hold back the anger from his voice, the crackling of a simmering fire. “Why play at being a good person?”

“I’m just trying—”

“You would hurt anyone else to protect just a few, yes?” Zhongli pauses to wheel on him. “You would threaten me for your family? You’d put my family behind bars for your own? Don’t pretend you have any honor.”

Their eyes meet, and Zhongli doesn’t hold back that he is very much not done with their conversation about Ganyu and Xiao.

“I’m not,” Ajax says quietly, gaze dead.

“Then don’t pretend you care about justice.”

“Okay,” he says.

“Especially”—the words spill out unbidden, fuel to the fire—“when you don’t have the decency to tell us important information from the beginning.”

“Okay.”

Zhongli pauses, anger flickering. He almost wishes Ajax would put up a fight instead of standing there, calm and empty and infuriating.

“You’ll tell us every detail of your history with the Fatui when we get home.” He turns and stalks forward again.

“Okay.”

Zhongli has not seethed like this in seven years. Tolerance may be difficult when everything about Ajax seems designed to upset him. 

None of them speak on the way back to the parlor. 

“Hang on,” Hu Tao says when they get inside. “I’d like a private word with my brother if you don’t mind.”

Ajax gives a small nod and heads upstairs alone.

“What?” Zhongli bites when he’s gone.

“Zhongli, it’s not very fair if he tells us everything and we don’t reciprocate,” Hu Tao says.

He glares at her. “He put us at risk by hiding information.”

She sighs. “He was scared you’d react like you are. We’re just getting to know each other, it’s natural.”

“How could you take his side? After everything he’s done—”

“There’s no sides, Li-Li,” she snorts. “You have every right to be angry, but don’t be unreasonable.”

“Unreasonable?” He’s been fighting back despair with anger, and now he sags. “How am I meant to react when I find out he’s...he’s the one who....”

“I know.” Hu Tao’s voice grows soft as she puts a hand on his arm. “If I found out my parents were still alive....”

He stares at the ground, void expanding in his chest at the injustice, the ridiculousness, the inconceivable irony of it all—

“It’s too much, Hu Tao,” he whispers. “As if fate is writing some sick tragedy and I am the helpless puppet for it to abuse.”

“You’re so dramatic.” Hu Tao wraps her arms around him and squeezes his ribs tight enough to crack. “It’s going to be okay, I promise.”

“It’s not,” he mutters darkly.

“Li-Li.” She laughs softly, not mocking but empathetic. “We’ve been through so much and survived. We can handle a few twists the universe throws at us, right?”

“My soulmate is responsible for the imprisonment of my children.”

“I know.” She holds on tight. “You have every right to feel horrible. We can talk about it. But don’t take your feelings out on him.”

“Why not?”

“Because we have to work together. Because you know he’s a victim, too. Because he’s genuinely trying to cooperate.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that he lied.”

“He didn’t lie exactly. What would you do in his position?”

“Look the person in the eyes and confess my sins.”

She laughs. “Would you really? If so, I doubt there’s anyone else in Teyvat as noble as you.”

Would he really? No. He’d happily cover himself in lies if it could erase his past.

He hates the logic, and he hates that it comes from someone so young. Someone he raised. After all, what is the point of him when his student becomes the master?

Zhongli finally returns her embrace. He holds her tight with all the stress from the last 48 hours. Gods, has it only been two days?

“When did you become so wise, Tao’er?”

“I’ve always been this way.” He hears the smirk in her voice. “None of your influence whatsoever.”

He sighs and allows himself to relax in her firm arms. The pit in his stomach is not gone, but he feels better.

Still...he doesn’t admit the deeper, more painful truth. In the end, it’s his fault. He allowed the world to become like this.

Does he truly have any right to be angry at Ajax when it was his ignorance that allowed the Fatui to flourish in the first place? He failed to protect Ganyu and Xiao. 

But he can protect Hu Tao.

There is a difficult conversation he’s been avoiding all day—one that has been simmering on his mind for hours. He leans back and takes her by the shoulders. She blinks, crimson eyes so young.

“Hu Tao....” he beings slowly. “After the two of us return from Mondstadt, we will have to go into hiding.”

“Two of us?” Hu Tao frowns. “Which two are you referring to?”

Zhongli swallows. “There will be assassins after me. And you—”

Her eyes blaze and she wrenches her arms out of his grip. “You’re not suggesting leaving me behind, are you?”

“You have to finish school.” Zhongli looks down. Sickness resurges to bubble in his stomach. “You’re the heir to Wangsheng. If they find out we’re connected, they’ll destroy everything. The funeral parlor, the family business, everything.”

He watches, pained, as her face twists in hurt. “You think the legal records of you being adopted by my family won’t be enough to connect us?”

“We’ll destroy them.” Zhongli swallows. “They’re fakes, with Ajax’s skills, it should be easy—”

“Absolutely not.” She folds her arms. “I’m not abandoning you.”

“Hu Tao, it’s too dangerous. Not just physically. Your future, your family’s legacy….”

“We’re not discussing this.” She shakes her head, and for the first time in years, the tease in her voice is nowhere in sight. “This is just a building. They can burn it to the ground for all I care. You’re my family. You’re all I have left, I won’t let you leave me behind.”

Her fist shakes slightly where it’s clenched, and Zhongli sees the glittering in her eyes.

“Hu Tao, it’s my responsibility to protect you.”

“You can protect me best when we’re together.”

He looks down and sighs against the ache in his heart. “It’s not that I want to leave you.”

“It better not be.” Her voice catches. “You’re my brother, you stupid lizard. Where you go, I go.”

“What kind of brother would I be if I put you in danger?” Zhongli murmurs, but she’s once again throwing her arms around him.

“Don’t leave me.” There’s tears in her voice, though she fights them. “We knew what we were doing when we took you in. We knew the danger.”

“Tao’er....”

“You promised.” She buries her face in his chest. “You promised to be my family forever. You can’t just leave me and go into hiding.”

He swallows emotion as he wraps his arms around her. “That’s precisely the point. Everyone I’ve called family has....” Has died. Or met a terrible fate. “I can’t allow that happen to you, Tao’er.”

“I don’t give a shit,” she says, muffled. “It’s my choice, not yours.”

“You’re underage.” 

“I’ll be eighteen soon.”

“You can’t understand the dange—”

“Shut up!” She leans back, wet eyes furious. “You call me wise but then don’t trust me? I’m not an idiot. That’s why I’m coming with you. Who else is going to make sure you don’t do something stupid? Could you and Ajax really get along without me?”

He chuckles weakly. “Hu Tao—”

“After all, I’m your boss,” she says, attempt at a cocky smile on her face. “And I order you to take me with you.”

Zhongli takes in her trembling expression and sighs. He should’ve known he couldn’t reason with her. She reminds him of the most irritating parts of himself—obstinate and loyal to a fault. He may have raised her too well.

And he really...doesn’t want to leave her behind.

He pulls her back in and hugs her tightly. “I can't stand you sometimes, you know that?”

“Good,” she sniffles. “You can try to be stupid and noble, but I won’t let you.”

The thought almost paralyzes him with anxiety, but maybe she’s right. He can protect her best when she’s at his side. “You can come along,” he says slowly, “but you must swear to be careful.”

“Okay, okay.” She wipes her eyes. “I swear.”

Footsteps on the stairs interrupt them, and Zhongli releases her. “I will hold you to that.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Her real smile is back. “I’d never cross the scary god of contracts. Now let me go pack.”

Hu Tao skips away, passing Ajax as he comes down the stairs. Zhongli watches her go and feels dread growing in his stomach.

“Is something wrong?” Ajax must have heard Hu Tao’s raised voice.

Zhongli hasn’t forgiven him enough to look him in the eyes yet, but he sighs. “You are not the only one worried for your family.”

“She’s coming with us?”

“I couldn’t convince her otherwise.” Zhongli rubs a hand over his face. “She is rather obstinate.”

He can’t see his face, but Ajax’s voice is low and serious when he says, “Between us, I’m sure we can keep her safe.”

Zhongli finally looks at him. “We are outnumbered and outgunned. How can you say that?”

The deadness in Ajax’s eyes lightens ever so slightly. “Because we have everything to lose.”

Zhongli watches him for a moment. There is something unspoken in his words. We’ll do anything to keep our families safe. Before, when their interests were opposed, Ajax was willing to hurt Zhongli’s family to protect his own. Now that they are aligned, he has that determination on his side.

“You’ll help protect Hu Tao?” he asks. “I can’t let something happen to her.”

“Of course,” Ajax says. “We’re allies. And anyway, the bond has decided that what’s important to you is important to me.”

Zhongli wants to recoil from that, but he supposes it’s true. Rage-inducingly true.

“I won’t ask for every detail of your past, but I haven’t forgiven you either.” Zhongli looks away. “If you expect me to trust you, you’ll have to earn it.”

“How is this, then?” Ajax moves closer. “I swear that when this is all over, I will help you rescue Ganyu and Xiao.”

Zhongli’s head snaps up, and Ajax’s eyes are dead serious. “I told you to stop playing at being a good person.”

“I’m not.” Ajax’s voice finally betrays the tiniest frustration. “I mean it. I told you I take promises seriously.”

“Why would you swear something like that?”

He shrugs. “Both our families should be free.”

Zhongli resists scoffing. Ajax is clearly just trying to get into his good books. But why? They have to work together; there’s no need to be amiable.

However…Ajax seems to mean it. This isn’t a ploy. Not a trick.

“Very well,” he says. “But I have nothing to swear in exchange.”

“Doesn’t have to be an equal exchange.” His eyes are deep, dark blue, like the dawning horizon of a moonless night. Like an azure void. “I want to help you.”

“We just met.” Zhongli refuses to let his voice soften, though Ajax’s gaze is disarming. “We’re strangers.” Enemies.

“So? Do I need logical reasoning to want to help you?”

“Yes.” Zhongli folds his arms.

Ajax laughs, then, a small puff of air, for the first time sounding real.

“Well, this isn’t evidence, but I…made another promise.” Hesitancy takes his voice. “I spoke with Ganyu before I came here.”

Zhongli’s emotions stumble in two directions, conflicted. He remembers Hu Tao’s words and tames the anger to a simmer to let relief take hold. “Is she alright?”

“She’s still strong.” Ajax looks down. “It was my first time seeing her in years. They haven’t…broken her.”

That word stokes the barest lingering fire, a quiet ember fighting for life somewhere in the cold wastelands of Zhongli’s heart. Ganyu—sweet and gentle and passionate, a champion of justice and defender of the weak—someone who deserves nothing less than eternal happiness for her service to the world—and that word do not belong in the same sentence.

But just as quickly, the harsh wind of defeat buries the ember once more.

“She told me to pass on a message,” Ajax says quietly. “She said, ‘Tell him that Ganyu and Xiao never lost faith. We believe that he’ll return.’”

“She…knew you were coming after me?” Zhongli forces past a tightening throat. “She knows I’m alive?”

“Yes. She believes in you.”

It’s painful, to hear the perpetrator himself of all people say such things.

“And Xiao?”

“I didn’t get to talk to him.”

Zhongli’s jaw clenches as he looks down. He made a contract thousands of years ago to save Xiao, to make his life better, to free him from captivity. He’s certainly failed to uphold it.

“We’ll get them out.” He searches for the ember, for his fighting spirit, but it’s lost to the wind. His resolve is bitter and hopeless. “Thank you for offering your help.”

He can see now that it truly was quite cruel of him to suggest keeping Ajax prisoner while his family suffered. It wouldn’t have worked anyway, but the thought should never have crossed Zhongli’s mind. He has no pity for Ajax, but no one deserves that.

“I’m not...playing at being a good person,” Ajax repeats. “It’s like...after years and years, as long as I can remember...I can finally make my own choices. This is what I want to do.”

Zhongli looks at him. Is there any choice in this? Isn’t it just the bond forcing them into a corner? Has Ajax’s life been so restricted that a different corner from the one he’s always known appears as freedom to him?

Even with the hope in his voice, his eyes remain filled by the deep blue of death.

What happened to make his eyes like that? What have they seen? How many tears and hot, burning emotions have they held back until all life and energy was drained from them? Until they forgot how to feel? Forgot how to come to life with emotion, whether anger, joy, sorrow, or love?

If Ajax ever once wore his humanity on his sleeve for all to see, any signs of it have long since been erased. Zhongli catches himself before that thought cascades into its natural successor: maybe his words are hope that he has some humanity left.

Zhongli will not entertain such thoughts. He has no interest in saving or reforming Ajax. He has no interest in seeing the light come back to his eyes.

“Well, thank you anyway.” Zhongli clears his throat before the conversation continues into getting-to-know-each-other territory. “We should go pack. I believe the last train usually leaves in a few hours.”

Ajax nods and follows him upstairs, where Hu Tao is skipping around throwing random items in a suitcase. “Have you two made up?” She smirks.

“We have come to an understanding,” Zhongli says coolly, but her grin only widens.

Hu Tao was right, of course. Zhongli would be helpless without her, as a friend, emotional support, and now hopefully intimacy buffer. She is his last chance to do something right and protect a member of his family.

As they pack and discuss travel plans, Zhongli feels his emotions even out to something like grim determination. After seven years of peace, war has come to his doorstep. This unlikely trio of an assassin, an exorcist, and a god is all they have against an enemy that runs the world. It will take all they have to stay united and keep one step ahead of the Fatui.

But they must. Because we have everything to lose.

Chapter Text

Ajax is used to clandestine activity. Boarding a train in public should not make him this nervous.

But his family has never been in this much danger before. While they were sneaking around the depths of Liyue Harbor, the chance of a Fatui agent spotting them was low. But now, out in the open, one accidental sighting could be enough to get everyone he loves killed.

Arlecchino has children everywhere. To the best of Ajax’s knowledge, there are at least twenty stationed in Liyue Harbor. And while the city’s population is nearing a million—the biggest of the continent—there’s a good chance a child spy is watching this central train station.

Both Ajax and Zhongli are somewhat in disguise. Despite the weather, they wear heavy overcoats and hats. Zhongli has his hair tucked up, and Ajax is trying to keep his foreign features out of sight.

When he asked Zhongli why he can’t just change appearances, the adeptus huffed and said, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” But Ajax has a feeling that the great Morax has lost much more power than he’s willing to admit.

Which—now that they’re allies—is not very reassuring.

Ajax has tried not to think about his family these past two days. The shadow of danger has been an omnipresent threat since the day he joined the Fatui. It’s always been a familiar companion, but now…now everything is different. Ajax has tried to focus on the present. While they’ve always been in danger, it is now more real than ever, and on top of that, a very different anxiety is bubbling through his veins.

If this works out, Ajax will have to tell them the truth. When he moves them to a safe house, he will have to admit, after ten years of lies, that everything they thought they knew was fake, their very lives founded on a deception. Shatter the safe bubble he’s built around them.

He can’t avoid imagining his parents’ faces falling in horror. Tonia’s stoic eyes welling up with how could you? And Teucer’s expression when he realizes his hero was never real....

One way or another, it’s all going to end horribly. The best possible ending is one where he’s freed of the curse, and his family, Zhongli, and Hu Tao are hidden away safe somewhere. But when that happens, he will have to face what he’s done.

It makes getting killed by the Fatui seem like a mercy.

They get onto the train without much issue. Zhongli handles all the interactions while Ajax and Hu Tao hang back. They are a strange group of three even in an ordinary situation. While one could assume that Zhongli and Hu Tao are siblings, Ajax doesn’t fit in. Three friends? Hu Tao is too young. A couple and their child? Hu Tao is too old. Ajax’s presence puts a large question mark over the group.

Ajax’s fingers twitch and his eyes dart to every potential threat. It doesn’t help his nervousness that Zhongli insists on holding onto his weapons. He’d feel much safer with his delusion on him.

Another issue is how distracted Ajax has been by Zhongli’s energy. He’s grown accustomed to it over the last two days. Instead of smothering, it has settled to a warm blanket over him at all times, but the depth and intensity of his energy signature are still stunning.

He can’t help watching Zhongli when he’s not looking. It’s so distracting, the curiosity that runs rampant through Ajax’s mind, stealing his attention when he needs to focus. Curiosity and…Zhongli’s presence makes him dizzy. There’s a weird, warm awareness in his chest.

Ajax is fascinated. He won’t pretend otherwise.

Even with their lives at stake, all Ajax wants is to bombard the adeptus with questions. What did the world used to be like? How much magic can you still use? Why did you go into hibernation? How did Hu Tao save your life?

There’s only one problem with this.

Zhongli hates him.

It shouldn’t matter. They are allies in a fight to the death. Ajax’s mind should be preoccupied by only the people who matter to him, not the ex-god who would wish him dead in any other circumstance.

He’s doing this for his family. He’s not doing this to learn about Zhongli.

Ajax is used to the kind of anger and coldness Zhongli is showing him. He’s seen it a dozen times in the eyes of those he’s tracked down. When he backs his victim into a corner and takes out his knives with an apology. In their last moments, they lash out, curse him and the Fatui, call him a monster. It’s nothing he hasn’t heard before.

So he’ll keep lying to himself that it doesn’t bother him. It seems inevitable that they will have to cooperate for the rest of their lives, that even if Ajax is freed, Zhongli will be a thorn in his side, his hate a reminder of the past he escaped.

Stop playing at being a good person.

Ajax has never kidded himself that there was any hope he could be a good person. But…there is now.

So of course, when confronted with a moral choice like Xingqiu offered, Ajax suddenly feels like he can breathe for the first time in years. He can make his own choices. He could fight for justice, if he chose to.

He’ll still do anything, break any law or bone to keep his family safe. But around the edges, in the grey, there is new choice. He’s always tried to find a way to do the Fatui’s bidding in the least harmful way possible. At any cost doesn’t rule out the path of least destruction.

The fact that this is happening…it gives him a hope he thought was long dead. Zhongli is nothing like Morax used to be, but just the fact that he’s alive turns the world upside down. What could he achieve with a god on his side?

Honor what you fight for. Could it be possible now? Could he protect his family in a way that they would approve of? Could he finally do the right thing?

How easily they were able to get information on a possible solution to his curse has made him realize how little he tried. He always told himself he wished he could be a good person, that this world was kill or be killed, that he tried to find the path of least destruction in carrying out the Fatui’s orders, but in the end, all Hu Tao had to do was ask her friends and a solution has presented itself.

He’s a coward for not trying harder. For not risking his life more. If he had searched harder, maybe he also would have come across the right people to ask, and he could have freed himself. The distant dream of rescuing his family wasn't so distant after all.

He could have done something. He hates himself for what he’s been forced to do, but maybe he had more choice than he thought all along. For ten years, every victim of his may have been avoidable. Was it really about protecting his family? Or protecting himself?

Now he has a true choice. And past the crippling guilt, he's determined to make up for his sins.

Zhongli quickly made sure that thought didn’t get to his head. But it’s intoxicating, the promise of freedom.

He’s really not trying to prove anything to Zhongli, and Ajax hopes he understands that now. Zhongli’s attitude has settled into cold tolerance, which is still not helpful, especially when all Ajax feels towards him is disarming curiosity.

Hu Tao, on the other hand, appears to be warming to him rapidly. She makes constant small talk and peers into his eyes with the same curiosity he has towards her.

And now, as they they settle into the seats in their compartment, it’s their first opportunity to actually relax since they met. Hu Tao rushes to the window seat and Zhongli sits beside her. Ajax has the opposite bench to himself in their private compartment.

“How long ‘til Mondstadt?” Hu Tao looks excited.

“Fourteen hours. We’ll arrive tomorrow.” Zhongli folds his arms. “We have to cross the whole of Liyue.”

The train pulls out of the station, and after a few minutes, they are rushing through the Liyuan countryside. Golden plains glow softly in the light of the setting sun, with tall mountains painting silhouettes up ahead.

Zhongli pulls out a book, seemingly intent on ignoring them. Ajax settles against the seat. Hu Tao swings her legs and presses her forehead against the glass. Her attention lasts about five minutes before she looks up with a mischievous smirk.

“Ajax, let’s get to know each other!”

“Okay.” Ajax glances at Zhongli, who is staring resolutely at his book.

Hu Tao rests her chin on her palm and thinks for a moment. “What’s your favorite food?”

Ajax blinks at that curveball. “I…don’t particularly have one.”

“What?” She snorts. “How can you not have a favorite food?”

He shrugs. “It’s not advantageous to have favorites.”

Hu Tao cackles at his reply. “That is the most ridiculous excuse I’ve ever heard.”

“It’s true,” he says, uncomfortable. “It’s better to like all food than be picky.”

Her left eyebrow remains up in her hair. “Okay, well. Do you have any hobbies?”

“Uh.” Ajax pauses. Hobbies? “What do you mean?”

Hu Tao’s other eyebrow joins the left in a look of shock. “What do you mean, what do I mean? Hobbies. You know, things you like to do? What do you do in your free time?”

Ajax stares at her. “Free time?”

The teenager looks torn between laughter and concern. “Yeah, free time. You can’t be working 24/7.”

“Oh.” He stares down, thinking hard. “Well, I, uh, train.”

“You train.” Hu Tao glances at Zhongli in exasperation, but he’s still ignoring them. “Do you do anything enjoyable?”

“I enjoy training.”

At the pity that takes over Hu Tao’s expression, Ajax casts around for something more substantial. He had hobbies when he was a child. “Fishing.”

“Fishing?” she repeats.

“Yeah.” He swallows. “I’m from a fishing town. My dad’s a fisherman.”

“That sounds like a job.” She frowns.

He opens his mouth to retort that many of his happiest childhood memories were made fishing, out helping his father. Important lessons about patience and endurance. The icy sea wind and thrill of the catch.

But that’s far too personal.

“What are your hobbies?” he retorts instead.

“I write poetry!” Hu Tao says happily. “I read and hang out with my friends and play pranks on people. Oh, and I also practice martial arts, I guess. We should spar sometime!”

“No.” A lone, stern word is the first to come from Zhongli, though his eyes are glued to his book.

“Why not?” she says indignantly.

“It’s dangerous.”

“Shouldn’t I train to fight bad guys?”

“You will not be fighting anyone.” He turns a page. “If it comes to that, we will handle the fighting.”

“Seriously?” she scoffs. “What if I have no choice?”

He finally looks up at her with a glare. “You promised to be careful.”

Hu Tao looks like she’s ready to argue but catches herself. “Whatever.” A gleam comes back to her eyes. “Why don’t you tell Ajax about your hobbies?”

“No.” He returns to his book.

“Li-Li likes reading, as you can see,” she says to Ajax. “And he’s quite interested in tea varieties. Well, he’s quite interested in most completely useless trivia.”

Zhongli doesn’t react to her teasing.

“And his favorite food is bamboo soup. I think? He likes a lot of things.” Hu Tao nods thoughtfully. “My favorite food is steamed fish with a side of prawn dumplings.”

“I’ve had that, it’s very good,” Ajax offers.

“So you do have opinions!” She grins.

“Of course I do.” Ajax feels his face warm.

“Hm.” She stares out the window for a moment, apparently distracted. Then she turns back. “Have you been to Mondstadt?” 

“Yeah, I’ve been probably…ten times?”

“What’s it like? I’ve never been out of the country.”

“It’s nice,” he says. “Very green. Lots of small hills.”

“My history class this year was about the warring period before the countries were settled.” Her eyes sparkle. “We just read last week that the Anemo Archon flattened the whole country in a storm. But Li-Li always corrects everything they tell us.”

“It is true the Anemo Archon changed the climate,” Zhongli says without looking up. “But most of your textbook is fiction.”

“He’s the reason my history grade is slipping,” Hu Tao sighs to Ajax. “On the tests, I always get confused between what I read and what he tells me.”

“If you didn’t want to know the truth, you shouldn’t have asked for help with your homework.” He shrugs.

“Do you know what happened to the Anemo Archon?” Ajax asks.

Zhongli’s eyes narrow. At least this topic is prompting him out of silence. “When I went into hibernation, I hadn’t heard from him in several hundred years. Barbatos was never the type to govern directly. He left everything to the Knights and faded away.”

“Maybe that’s a good thing?” Hu Tao says. “Xiangling tells me life in Mondstadt is easier.”

“It’s still a military dictatorship. The Knights may be more benevolent than others, but in the end, the land of freedom doesn’t give its people much choice.”

“Is that different from when you were king?” The confrontational words slip out before Ajax realizes his mouth moved.

Zhongli finally looks up from his book and raises an eyebrow. “In a practical sense, no. For thousands of years, I wrote the laws. But our country was founded on a contract. A promise of equal exchange. I dedicated my life to ensuring human welfare.”

“If you had been a different person, millions would have suffered.” Ajax frowns. “Doesn’t it feel wrong? That the fate of every person in Teyvat is dependent on whoever’s in charge?”

A corner of Zhongli’s lip turns up. “Do you have a better idea?”

“Maybe.” Ajax doesn’t like the mockery in his tone. “Couldn’t there be a government where each person’s voice is heard? Where the people choose their leaders?”

“I tried that.” The ex-god’s voice is flat. “I thought the Qixing represented the will of the people, so I let them govern. And they turned on me, blinded by greed. Humans are self-destructive left to their own devices.”

“I agree with Ajax.” While the other two are frowning, Hu Tao smiles playfully. “You can’t trust just a couple of people being in charge. But if everyone had equal power, it would balance out selfish interests.”

“Don’t underestimate human greed,” Zhongli says dismissively. “As your kind evolved, it led us here. Humans are incapable of balance.”

Hu Tao sighs and slumps against the seat. “Li-Li, really? We’re not all evil.”

“I didn’t say that.”

She sighs again, louder. “There’s good humans too, and that’s what balances it.”

“I only meant that on aggregate—”

“You think you know better than me because you’re old?” She glares at him. “Haven’t you heard of—you know—yin and yang, there can’t be light without darkness, all that?”

Ajax feels himself smiling as the other two glare at each other. That smile vanishes as she gestures between Zhongli and him. “Y’know, you and Ajax.”

“What?” Zhongli looks back with a frown.

She shrugs. “You’re kind of like opposites that balance each other, right?”

“Are we?” Ajax says, tone guarded.

“I mean.” She cocks her head. “You can feel it, right?”

“Feel what?” they say in unison.

“Your energy.” She smirks. “Scientifically speaking, Zhongli has too much yang, and Ajax has too much yin. Can’t you sense it?”

They both pause. Ajax isn’t very familiar with Liyuan terms of magic, but it’s true, when he looks at Zhongli, that the adeptus is all...golden light, for lack of a scientific term. His own energy is too muddled to get a reading on. But it would make sense that it’s darker.

“The sun and the moon.” Hu Tao smiles. “I guess you need an outsider’s perspective to see it.”

“Perhaps.” Zhongli looks extremely uncomfortable with the idea.

Hu Tao—true to character—doesn’t let up. “Is that why you’re soulmates?”

Ajax looks into her mischievous crimson eyes and then at Zhongli, who shrugs. “There isn’t enough research on why this happens.”

“What exactly are soulmates anyway?” Hu Tao at last asks the question that Ajax has been too nervous to bring up this whole time.

“You know what they are,” the adeptus mutters.

“Not really.” Hu Tao shrugs. “Isn’t it important for us to understand?”

Zhongli looks up. Ajax can see the fight between Hu Tao’s logic and his discomfort with the subject in his eyes. He glances at Ajax before finally putting his book down.

“In folklore it is often reduced to a mere sexual or romantic attraction.” Zhongli looks out the train window. “But it is much deeper than that.” A soft, defeated sigh escapes his lips. “The fabric of magic binds all things in this world together through the ley lines. It connects everything like an invisible field.”

He looks down and interlaces his fingers. “Sometimes the fates of two separate souls become so intertwined that their energies merge into one. As the energies align, the bond manifests.”

“So it’s a real thing?” Hu Tao waves a hand. “Y’know, historically?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Are you not convinced by the fact that we’re experiencing it? Yes, it’s real. In all my years, I have only witnessed this once and heard of a handful more instances. There used to be a few papers on it in the Akademiya.”

“You witnessed it?” Ajax asks.

Zhongli doesn’t meet his eyes. “Two thousand years ago, I knew two humans who were soulmates. I had believed it a myth until then.”

Both Ajax and Hu Tao stare at him until he continues. “They were both soldiers who fought alongside the adepti in the wars. They met by chance while serving in the army. Our most studied magical scholars admitted that it was a miraculous occurrence. At the time, the war prevented official research.”

“What happened to them?” Ajax presses.

Zhongli’s eyes darken as his gaze turns to the rolling fields outside. “Accounts differ, but I believe they were killed in battle. Well, if my sources are to be trusted, one perished in battle and the other…killed herself shortly after.”

So Ajax was right. The loss of a soulmate is enough to drive someone to suicide. He couldn’t imagine feeling that way about Zhongli. At least not yet.

“Wait,” Hu Tao says. “Why does that story sound familiar?”

“There is a popular myth that stems from their deaths, like many other fanciful recreations of the past,” Zhongli sighs. “The soulmates met during the war and fell in love, but they say that one was promised to marry someone else. So the other allowed himself to be killed in battle, rather than suffer a life without his soulmate.”

“Hang on, I do know this story!” Hu Tao’s eyes flash. “And then after the war, the one who survived was supposed to return home to be married, right? But instead she knelt at his tomb and prayed to be with him. And she…turned into a butterfly?”

“Lightning struck his grave. She threw herself into the crack it created to follow her love into hell,” Zhongli says quietly. “The onlookers tried to stop her, but when they approached, all they could see was two butterflies flying away from the tomb.”

“Oh yeah!” Hu Tao says. “That’s the butterfly lovers! The two soulmates were transformed into butterflies and flew away to eternal freedom together.”

“Yes.” Zhongli shrugs. “But it’s just a myth, warped by the years. My reports at the time said he died in battle and she killed herself afterward. After all, I was their god. I certainly didn’t answer any prayers or turn anyone into a butterfly.”

Hu Tao frowns. “Do you always have to ruin childhood stories? I hate when you tell me things aren’t true.”

Zhongli smiles, not unkindly. “I can’t control the absurd imagination of humans. Most things you read are made-up.”

“Butterflies are a big thing for Wangsheng.” Hu Tao pouts. “Like rebirth and all that.”

“The symbolism is nice,” he concedes. “And those two were indeed soulmates. Unfortunately, they died before we could do much research.”

“So are soulmates random?” Hu Tao asks.

Zhongli shrugs. “From what I’ve read at the Akademiya, there isn’t enough evidence to come to any sort of conclusion. Some believe that, like the afterlife, there is a before-life where souls are created. Perhaps soulmates’ energies entangle then. Or, as other traditions believe, when everything in the universe was once one, we were one, only to be separated into two souls. Or perhaps when Ajax was born, some cosmic fault twisted our fates together.”

Cosmic fault. Of course Zhongli would take the most negative view of their situation. While soulmates in folklore are made out to be the ultimate symbol of love, Zhongli treats this as an accident, a mistake, a problem to be fixed.

“What does it mean for us?” Ajax tries to keep his voice neutral.

Zhongli scowls. “It means that our energies are constantly resonating, when we feel powerful feelings the other senses it, and over time…we will develop an addiction for each other.”

“Addiction?” Ajax frowns. “You just mean we’ll like each other?”

“As I said, it’s deeper than that.” Zhongli still doesn’t meet his eyes. “Like a dependence on alcohol, we won’t feel complete without each other. Obsession that can prompt suicide isn’t healthy.”

Ajax feels a flickering of anger—but not because of what he’s saying. Why does he have to put it like that? It’s not as if Ajax is happy about this situation, but to be so blatantly…hateful….

“Aren’t all feelings uncontrollable?” Ajax holds back a bite from his voice.

Zhongli snorts. “I have never come across a situation I couldn’t fight against. This is the first—a direct corruption of free will. All we can do is mitigate the effects.”

Ajax stares at the floor, anxiety bubbling away to something like despair in his stomach. If they do…develop an addiction, how is he supposed to live with someone who is opposed to his very existence?

“Mitigate the effects of…feelings for each other?” he asks quietly.

“Yes.” Zhongli finally meets his eyes and the coldness there aches. “We must treat this as a weakness our enemies will seek to exploit.”

A weakness.

“Can’t we…be friends?” Ajax ventures.

“I have no interest in that.”

Zhongli’s eyes are amber like the sun gone cold, when it cools and shrinks at the end of all things. A sun that leaves its world lifeless.

All three fall silent. Zhongli returns to his book. Ajax can tell Hu Tao is looking at him, but he keeps his gaze on the floor. He doubts her pity will help.

Ajax’s stomach seizes. Zhongli makes it sound like their fate is inevitable and can only lead to pain. But it doesn’t have to be like that, does it?

They aren’t enemies. There’s no need for this animosity. In fact, if they are to work well together toward their common goals, it would be helpful if they were friends.

Ajax can’t imagine falling in love with someone who hates him. He honestly can’t imagine falling in love in the first place, either. It’s not like he particularly has any interest in that kind of thing. Only once in his life has he had romantic feelings for someone. And that ended in tragedy.

It’s been so long since Ajax has had to consider that side of life. What does it feel like again? He almost can’t remember.

With the conversation cut off and Hu Tao staring out the window, those memories rush over him, unbidden….

He was fourteen when his first love died before his eyes.

They were both thirteen when they met. That day, he sat against the wall of a filthy alley, covered in blood and bruises, desperate to hold back tears. Soft snowflakes blew around and mixed with the dirt. The bullies had found him again, and while he had spirit, he was small and had no technique to counter their brute strength.

It was a rough neighborhood. This wasn’t the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last. The older kids needed someone to lash out against. The pent-up frustration of being trapped in a cycle of poverty, of abuse at home and no chances at school, led to them targeting anyone who crossed their path. And Ajax had an unfortunate penchant for attracting danger.

That day, they’d gone a bit too far. Ajax couldn’t resist taunting them, fighting back, doing everything to make the situation worse for himself. He didn’t know how to shut up and get through it.

He was clutching ribs that twinged as if broken and choking on held-back tears, when someone squatted down in front of him. He hadn’t even heard her approach.

“You’re such a dumbass.” Her voice was filled with spite, and yet she didn’t seem to have any intention to hurt him. “You’re gonna get yourself killed, you know.”

“W-what?” Ajax looked up to dark, cynical eyes scanning him. It was a girl his age, vaguely familiar. She was wearing their school uniform in the way the budding gang members did—ripped and dirty, clear rebellion etched into her every move.

“If you fight back, they’re gonna kill you,” she repeated.

“So?” he muttered. “They’re gonna kill me either way.”

She rapped him on the head, and given the possible concussion he’d just sustained, it hurt. “ Ah—what the hell?” He flinched and tried to grab her hand.

She was fast. He could barely follow her movements as she retracted her hand.

“Do you wanna die?” She scoffed. “I thought you were smarter than that, Ajax.”

“Huh?” The world was still spinning as he tried to focus on her. “Do you know me?”

“What, you don’t know me? That’s rude. We’ve been going to school together for two years.”

He blinked, trying to remember. The head trauma didn’t help.

“Skirk,” she sighed. “My name’s Skirk. You really don’t recognize me?”

“Sorry.” Ajax swallowed, slightly worried she would hit him again. “I don’t know anyone at school.”

“Dumbass.” She looked away. “Who goes to school with someone for two years and doesn’t notice them?”

“You look like a gang member,” Ajax said. “I try to avoid troublemakers.”

Skirk’s head whipped back. “I’m not in the gang!” Something was too defensive in her voice. “And you’re a troublemaker, I’ve seen you get dragged to the office a million times.”

Huh. Was she a stalker or something? Ajax sized her up. “I don’t go looking for trouble, it just happens.”

“Whatever.” She snorted. “I guess you’re just an idiot then.”

“Are you gonna beat me up or not?” he asked, a little done with this. “I wanna go home.”

“I’m trying to help you, idiot.”

“What?”

“If you’re gonna fight back, you should know how. I can teach you.”

He stared at her in astonishment. But she seemed to mean it, and he quickly agreed. He’d take any chance to get stronger.

And that was how Ajax first learned to fight.

Skirk lived as if the world was out to get her. It might have been true, down where they lived in the most economically deprived neighborhood of Morepesok. A place so rough it got the nickname the Abyss.

She was always watching her back, tense and angry. No matter her claims to no gang affiliation, she was a true delinquent. She could fight like no one else in school.

Ajax should’ve known to stay away.

By the time they turned 14, she was his best friend. A bit more than that, actually, but he had yet to recognize the budding feelings that sparked fire in his chest every time she looked at him.

Skirk’s gaze was always cold, but he could see the affection under it. She wouldn’t spend so much time with him if she didn’t care for him. She protected him fiercely and taught him everything she knew about fighting. They were happy, two friends against the world.

But the only time she ever smiled was when she won a sparring match. 

“Hah!” On that fateful day, she slammed him down triumphantly.  “Still too slow, dumbass. I wonder if you’ll ever get me to use both hands.”

Ajax should’ve felt frustrated. Instead a wild grin spread over his face. “How are you so strong? Are you using magic or something?”

“I’m no cheater,” she scoffed, hand still bunched in his shirt. “It’s just practice. Or maybe your dumb brain is affecting your muscles?”

He tried to lunge up, only to be slammed back into the ground again. She put her full weight on him and her eyes glinted tauntingly. “Try to get up, loser.”

She enjoyed this, he could tell. She never gave him a chance. But he learned best when adversity was the highest, and he’d never want her to go easy on him.

After five months of friendship and countless sparring matches, Ajax was becoming a competent street fighter. He’d never win against her, but now the bullies were no match for him. 

Despite all her admonishments, the one thing he never learned was to yield. Know when you’re beaten simply didn’t click.

He struggled now, useless movements that only made her grip tighten. At last, a smile spread over her face. A rare, charming sight.

“Not so cocky now, huh?” she panted, not unaffected by his attempts to throw her off.

But he just smiled right back, also enjoying himself too much. “At least I’m making you try.”

Something changed in her eyes as the grin slid off her face. Something different. Something new. He hadn’t realized how close she was until her grip loosened and she leaned down….

Their lips barely met for half a second, but his heart practically exploded at the contact. Skirk pulled back and studied him.

“I knew it.”

He was dying, head spinning in disbelief. “W-what?”

“Your pulse.” She had a hold of his wrist. “It’s fast.”

“Yeah, we’ve been fighting.” His face burned.

She cocked her head. “You like me.”

Panic could be the only word to describe the feeling that shot through his naive, teenage body.

“It’s okay.” How was she so confident? “I like you, too.”

“You do?” His heart was going insane trying to escape his chest.

She punched him in the arm. He barely felt it. “Obviously, dumbass. Are you really that oblivious?”

“Yeah, I guess,” he laughed weakly.

She leaned in, light dawning in her lifeless eyes. “Wanna kiss again?”

He was surely dying when he nodded. And when she kissed him, he was floating. Only an awkward, three-second press, but his heart soared.

“Right.” She sat back, face serious. “You’re mine now.”

“What?” he spluttered.

“Pinky-promise.” Skirk wrapped her little finger around his. “We’re together now, and if you leave me I get to kill you.”

“Skirk—” he began, panicking.

She cackled. “Kidding, idiot. But we can go out, if you want.”

He smiled, shy and hopeful. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

They walked home holding hands that day. It was innocent. Just a tiny little thing between two 14-year-olds. It might’ve blossomed into his first romance, a sweet story, the first in a line of similar stories making up the normal life he could have had.

But Ajax attracted trouble. He should’ve known his first love couldn’t last.

The next day she was killed.

It was the mafia. The drug runners who controlled the Abyss. Skirk hadn’t lied; she wasn’t with the gang. It was much worse.

Her older sister was a member of the so-called Abyss Order, and the world of organized crime knew no mercy. So when she betrayed them and made off with a briefcase full of mora, they came after her family.

It was an accident that Ajax found them. Went to her apartment to ask if she wanted to hang out. Found the door ajar, the scent of blood in the air. Saw his first dead bodies, Skirk and her father, on the kitchen floor.

That was the day he lost his innocence. The day the light left his eyes.

And only eight months later, Ajax signed away his life.

The part of him that doesn’t know how to yield wishes he had been there. Wishes he could’ve done something. There was no possibility of saving her, he knows. He would’ve been killed alongside her.

But still, he’s a fighter. His fierce loyalty and self-destructive determination wish that he had been there.

He can empathize all too well with Zhongli’s hatred for those who hurt his loved ones. But Zhongli’s hate…includes Ajax.

Ajax looks at him now, gaze stoic and cold as it focuses on his book.

Can’t we…be friends?

I have no interest in that.

It sounds like torture—to fall in love with someone who hates him.

Since Skirk, Ajax hasn’t felt that way towards anyone. Not that he loved her. It was an innocent, childhood romance. It could have been something, but it died before it could take its first breath.

And he’s never felt anything again. Not that he hasn’t…done what he had to in the past. His body is a tool, property of the Fatui, and he’s used it to get information. Whether exchanging a night of company for intel or seducing someone to lower their guard, he’ll use any tools at his disposal.

After all, sleeping with someone for information is better than torturing them.

But he has never returned the affections of those who pursue him. He’s not proud of the smooth charisma he’s developed, of the confidence that turns heads. People find him attractive, and he’ll take advantage of it. But just as every kill seems to strip away some of his humanity, so does the gaze of every man and woman who desires him.

So, no, he’s never really been interested. And, no, he’s not happy that fate has decided to make him develop feelings for a stranger and former enemy.

But—he admits to himself now as the train rushes onward into the night—he’s not necessarily opposed. Zhongli is attractive and interesting and a god….

Ajax shakes his head before that line of thought can continue. The reasoning doesn’t matter. It’s going to happen, so why resist it?

On a practical level, they should try to get along. Ajax’s only hope of rescuing his family and gaining his freedom depends on Zhongli’s cooperation.

Of course, it makes sense he would hate him after finding out about Ganyu and Xiao. Ajax doesn’t want earning his forgiveness to be easy. He wants to properly atone for his sins by rescuing them, by doing things right.

But on a level he doesn’t want to recognize…it’s upsetting how fiercely Zhongli is against this. It hurts. Of course it does. But it’s also understandable. Maybe unavoidable.

He will have to resign himself to the reality that Zhongli won’t accept their bond any time soon. If ever.

Ajax unconsciously rubs his collarbone where the mark sits hidden beneath his shirt. He wishes Zhongli would let him see his mark. He wants to know that the adeptus is affected as much as he is. He seems so stoic, so unbothered. A weakness. Mitigate the effects.

Hu Tao has fallen asleep with her cheek pressed against the window. Zhongli looks up from his book to lay his coat over her and shift her neck to a more comfortable position. She mumbles something but stays dead asleep.

“Sleep if you want.” Zhongli picks up his book without so much as a glance in Ajax’s direction. “I can keep guard.”

His tone is a knife to the chest, but it’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine.

“I’m good,” Ajax mutters. As if he could sleep with this tension. “We can both keep guard.”

Zhongli merely grunts in reply and returns to reading. With Hu Tao snoring and Zhongli absorbed in his book, Ajax stares out the window.

It’s going to be a long train ride.

Chapter Text

Morax always knows when he is dreaming. As a practiced dreamwalker, he is intimately familiar with the levels of consciousness. He can manipulate others’ minds as they sleep; he ought to have complete command over his own.

So why…why does this feel so real?

A stone table with three place settings. A gust of wind over the mountaintop carrying with it a swirl of orange leaves.

“The humans killed me.”

A phantom speaks from beside him. She is beautiful, even in death.

“You know this, Morax. My death was not a noble sacrifice. I died because of our contract with the humans. They killed me.”

A poisonous whisper. One his bitter heart has repeated since their betrayal.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I wasn’t strong enough to protect you.”

Guizhong’s hand is cold on his face. “Even a god couldn’t be strong enough to protect everyone. Your fault lies in choosing to protect the humans, instead of your own. You let me die when you ordered us into battle.”

You let all of us die.

A massive, majestic body lay still in the valley, the stone of the mountains themselves rent by battle. And humans—tiny, pathetic, weak—danced around the fallen dragon….

How?! How could this be? Morax had been blind. He had been ignorant. The foolish king who sat lazy in his jade palace as the world crumbled around him….

He let his rage and grief win as his body grew to tower over them. The contract was broken. He would show them the wrath of a dragon.

And when the humans lay desecrated, their little red bodies painting the valley like swatted flies, he fell beside the other dragon. It couldn’t be….

Morax curled around his body and nuzzled his face. “Please wake up, my love. This cannot be. This cannot be!”

But it was. They had killed him. A being more ancient than Morax himself. A being born before even the mountains and oceans themselves.

The one he had sworn to love for ten-thousand years more.

The roar of a grieving dragon shook the earth for miles. He left his love, empty and dead, and set out for revenge. The ancient contract had been shattered by this act of violence. It was only right that he exacted vengeance. 

But he never made it.

It was too much, this time. His own ignorance had done this. One after one, his family had fallen….

And now Morax found himself falling.

Paralyzed by grief, he fell deep into the earth.

And upon waking 300 years later, all he had known was gone.

“I tried to warn you.” The ancient dragon’s voice is soft. “Before I lost my mind. The humans could not be trusted. They were too greedy, left unchecked.”

Morax tries to speak, but he is choked by guilt.

Azhdaha’s eyes turn up to a night sky awash with stars. “You were too late. Peace made you soft. You were meant to be the hard one, the warrior. What are you now that you have let us all die?”

Zhongli wakes with a start. He bolts up, startling Ajax, who flinches and reaches for weapons he doesn’t have. Hu Tao is dead asleep on the seat next to him, undisturbed.

“Are you okay?”

Ajax’s voice registers only after Zhongli swings his muddled head around to see that they’re still in the train compartment. He must have dozed off.

He swallows, mind thick. Outside, the moon is high in the sky. The Liyue countryside is lit up in silver.

“Sorry,” he mutters. “Was I…asleep?”

“Yeah. You fell asleep an hour ago.”

Zhongli blinks to clear his vision and picks up his book from where it fell. “I apologize. If it happens again, please wake me. We should stay on our guard at all times.”

“I was on watch,” Ajax says. “Everything was fine.”

“Yes.” Zhongli continues blinking, still dazed. “If you’ll excuse me for a moment….”

He stands and leaves a frowning Ajax and sleeping Hu Tao. In the corridor, he makes his way straight for the end of the carriage and opens the door to the small platform connecting the carriages. Fresh, strong wind blasts him in the face.

He grips the rail and leans into the wind. He never dreams. And he never falls asleep in public.

Afterimages flash on the edges of his vision, faces long lost—a breeze that kicks up the dust and brings the soft scent of glaze lilies, the rumble of a laugh as deep as the core of the earth as new eyes gaze up at the sky.

Zhongli never dreams. Let alone has a nightmare.

He should have known he couldn’t repress every thought of his past partners. One lost to war to protect the humans thousands of years ago. The other driven to madness and slain as everything fell apart 300 years ago.

Those perfect, gentle people that granted his life warmth like the benevolent rays of the sun.

Those people he let die.

Azhdaha’s death was the last straw that sent him into a coma of grief, into hibernation, into an unrecognizable future when he woke….

Zhongli tries to shake it off. He stares into the distance, where the moon drenches everything in silver and turns the mountains to silhouettes.

He has tried for seven years to put the past in the past, but he knows his failures will haunt him forever. Up until now, he’s been successful at repressing the thoughts of those he’s lost. But the past will always be shackles he can’t escape. He knows that he can never accept Ajax as anything more than an ally as long as the memory of Azhdaha’s death weighs him down like a heavy shadow.

He doesn’t hate Ajax. He can see that the ex-assassin is not evil, merely a product of the Fatui’s evil. But he is human, and that is unforgivable after everything their kind has done.

***

“You hurt his feelings, you know,” Hu Tao mutters as they make their way through the crowded platform.

At midmorning, the sun shines strong through the green glass roof of Mondstadt’s central train station and paints everything in diluted light. A crowd of locals and foreigners shuffles back and forth, some in a rush and some leisurely.

“What?” Zhongli mutters back. The dream is still dulling his mind.

She gestures to where Ajax walks ahead of them. “You said you don’t want to be friends.”

He sighs. He knew she’d bring this up. “I don’t.”

“Seriously?” Zhongli can feel her glare as they push through the crowd.

“Yes.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” She grabs his arm to not get separated and her nails dig into him.

“He’s human.”

“I’m human!”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

“Hu Tao,” he tries to say with tact, “it hurts to be around him, don’t you understand?”

“That doesn’t mean you have to be an asshole about it!” She looks stern.

“He asked me, I wasn’t going to lie.”

She pulls on his arm and stops him in middle of the crowd, which makes several people bump into them. “Li-Li, for once in your life, could you have a bit of nuance? Sometimes people’s feelings matter more than the truth.”

Zhongli looks after Ajax’s back as it gets farther and farther away. “His feelings?”

“Yes, his feelings.” She slaps his arm. “Everyone’s feelings matter, dumbass.”

He frowns and looks away.

“Come on.” She steers him forward once again. “You’re going to be nicer, or I swear to the gods I’ll tell him all your secrets.”

“What secrets?”

“Oh, I can think of a few.” She smirks. “We’ve lived together a long time, I know all your embarrassing secrets.”

“Hu Tao—”

“No arguments! We may be on the run for our lives, but that doesn’t mean we can’t get along and have fun.”

“I won’t be friends with him.”

“Li-Li,” she sighs again. “Sometimes the hardest thing is accepting you don’t have a choice and rolling with the punches.”

“I do have a choice.”

The look on her face is soft and fond and far too wise. “Life is about making the best out of what you have. Not fighting the impossible.”

He doesn’t say it because he knows there’s no point in arguing with her, but the thought stands: I won’t be fate’s cannon fodder.

***

Mondstadt hasn’t changed as much as Liyue in these 300 years. It still feels quaint and quiet, while Liyue is a bustling hub of commerce. But the weight of military rule lays heavy over the atmosphere. It is a far cry from the days of old, when it was a beautiful city awash with flowers, singing, and dancing.

After the Hus took him in and he recovered, Zhongli traveled the world for a brief time to see what had become of his friends. He came to Mondstadt to find Barbatos and his servants, only to see that the land of wind had become bare of the bard’s cheer. Much like the age of oppression a thousand years ago, the common people were reduced to dull, fearful creatures while those in power reigned with an iron hand.

Six years ago, Zhongli stood in the central plaza and closed his eyes. If he focused, he could almost hear the cheering of crowds, the free flow of music, the smell of food and gentle caress of the wind—those many festivals he visited. He imagined Barbatos’ irritating, lilting voice asking him to dance despite his insistence that he preferred to watch. Barbatos’ musical laugh as he inevitably won and forced enough wine into Morax to get him to dance and sing.

There was a time visiting Mondstadt meant having a good time with close friends, but that day, as he stood on the very spot of those countless festivals, the wind was cold and bitter. The people scurried through the shadows to avoid the gaze of the Knights. The plaza was dark and empty of Barbatos’ touch.

What happened to his friend?

Now, as they make their way from the train station to a hotel, Hu Tao looks around in excitement and asks him what each building his. He can recite them easily, but nothing is worth seeing when the city is a pale afterimage of what it once was.

The quiet, cold streets cry for a savior, for Barbatos’ gentle touch. He was never one for direct intervention, but he always came back and saved his people when it counted. Where is he now? What did this world do to his kind, free spirit?

What are you now that you have let us all die?

They check into the hotel and leave their things in the room before hopping a streetcar to the entertainment sector of the city.

Thankfully, despite the height of summer approaching, it’s cool enough in Mondstadt to justify wearing overcoats. Ajax keeps his hat pulled low over his eyes. The border check on the train was an easy affair, a quick glance at Hu Tao’s real passport and Zhongli and Ajax’s fake ones. But now that they’re deep in the territory of the Knights and Ajax is, after all, a Harbinger, there’s a chance any knight patrolling the streets has seen a picture of him.

“Are you sure it’s safe for you to go around looking like yourself?” Zhongli mutters as a few people on the streetcar give them a long look.

“I’m not exactly a public figure,” Ajax mutters back. “There’s no reason anyone should know what Tartaglia looks like. It’s not like the Fatui disseminates photographs of me.”

“Are you sure?” Zhongli looks up and down the dilapidated car. Most of the people on it look like weary laypeople. “Xingqiu recognized you.”

“Yeah, someone with connections to the underground might know me.” Ajax folds his arms and leans against the wall. “That’s where I work. No reason for any normal person to have even heard of me.”

“Would the Knights’ intel really be so bad as to not recognize an important member of of their main rival?”

Ajax shrugs. “I’ve been here a dozen times and no one’s ever recognized me.”

Zhongli is about to say something scathing, but with Hu Tao’s judging gaze on him, he decides to be nice. “Our stop is next,” he says instead.

Angel’s Share appears to be a popular place. Even in the afternoon, there are plenty of people going in and out. But of course, Zhongli recalls, the citizens of this country love to drink no matter the time of day.

“I wonder what the Dark Knight is like,” Hu Tao says as they enter.

“Anyone calling themselves something like that doesn’t give me much faith in this plan,” Zhongli mutters.

Inside, the bar’s ambiance gives no credence to the concept of time. With every window closed and dim orange lighting, it could be noon or midnight. Someone is playing a guitar in the corner. There’s a crowd of locals—grimy workers just off their shift, boisterous drunks who look like regulars, even a few knights joining the camaraderie. It’s not the nicest pub, but it’s mostly clean.

They pause in the doorway and look around. At first glance, he can’t sense anything out of the ordinary. Ajax’s energy has rendered Zhongli almost blind to other energy signatures. He squints, trying to focus on elemental sense, but Ajax’s presence is like the roar of the surf in his ears, deafening to all else.

“Let’s sit down,” Ajax says. “We look suspicious.”

They make their way to a table made out of a barrel in the far back and settle around it. Hu Tao picks up the menu, but Zhongli snatches it from her.

“What?” She frowns.

“You will not be drinking.”

“Come on, lighten up, old man,” she says with a smirk, before caving to his stern glare. “Look, there’s juice, too.”

“We should order something.” Ajax’s eyes scan the crowd. “We already stick out. It seems like this place is mostly regulars.”

“I will procure us some non-alcoholic drinks.” Zhongli stands as Hu Tao pouts. “Look out for anyone suspicious.”

He pushes his way to the bar. The crowd seems generally good-natured, and the bartender doesn’t blink an eye when he leans over the counter and orders three juices.

“Do you want to start a tab?”

“Ah, no, that won’t be necessary.” Zhongli eyes the people at the counter, but none of them look like a vigilante, whatever that looks like.

“Alright, that’ll be 8,000 mora.” The bartender passes the drinks over.

Zhongli reaches for his wallet and freezes. “Er.”

“You got money?” The bearded bartender raises an eyebrow. He seems well-acquainted with dealing with the drunks here, unfazed and ready to get the money one way or another.

“Yes, of course.” Zhongli glances back to their table but can’t see through the press of bodies. “One moment please.”

The bartender starts to protest, but Zhongli is already pushing his way back to the table.

“Where’s the drinks?” Hu Tao says.

“I appear to have left my wallet at the hotel.”

“Seriously?” Hu Tao groans. “And you’re going to lecture me about safety?”

“I’ve got it.” Ajax stands with a smirk.

“Thank you.” Zhongli leads him back to the bar. He refuses to feel awkward about this. Even if, after seven entire years, he’s somehow not completely adjusted to human life.

The bartender’s eyebrow remains high. “You got money?”

“How much was it?” Ajax flashes a large smile that Zhongli can tell is fake, but it eases the bartender.

Zhongli has to admit Ajax has a way with people as he handles the transaction. But just as they start to grab their drinks to head back, a low voice from behind the bar says, “Charles, what the fuck is this?”

Zhongli and Ajax turn to a red-haired man slamming the door to the back and crossing to the bar.

“What’s wrong?” the bartender asks.

“Why the fuck are you serving Fatui scum?” The man glares at Ajax with a hate that pales Zhongli’s own feelings in comparison.

“Fatui?” Charles scans the two of them. “They’re Fatui? How can you tell?”

The red-haired man ignores him and says with a low growl, “Get the fuck out of my bar.”

“Hey.” Ajax flashes that disarming smile again. “I’m not sure who you think we are, but—”

“I know exactly who you are.” The man’s hand is now poised to summon a weapon. “Get out.”

Zhongli is ready to do what the man says before things escalate, but Ajax continues, “We’re not with the Fatui, I swear. We just want a drink.”

Everyone nearby has frozen to watch their interaction, and now the customers start to step back as the owner’s expression grows murderous.

“Get out.”

Ajax’s smile remains perfectly calm. “Listen, we—”

The man vaults over the bar before anyone can react and has a fistful of Ajax’s shirt. “I would kill you on sight if we were anywhere else, but I don’t feel like getting blood on my floor, so get out while I’m feeling merciful.”

“Diluc!” Charles exclaims as every customer in the vicinity turns to look.

Zhongli wonders just what the hell this man’s history with the Fatui is to lead him to murder someone on sight. Before he can step in, the easy smile slides off Ajax’s face.

“Oh?” Something glimmers in his dead eyes as his expression changes. “Listen, I don’t think either of us wants to make a scene, so maybe we should take this discussion outside?”

“Discussion?” Diluc shoves Ajax against a column, and Zhongli winces as he feels it. “I don’t know what evil shit you’ve come here to do, but I won’t be discussing anything with you. Get out of Mondstadt before I do something we’ll both regret.”

Something clicks as Zhongli watches them. This bar owner hates the Fatui more than any average citizen and seems familiar with fighting. Who else at this bar could have the temperament of a vigilante?

Ajax looks two seconds away from retaliating, so Zhongli finally grabs Diluc’s shoulder. “We’re looking for someone, and then we’ll leave.” He keeps his voice low. “Have you heard of the Dark Knight?”

Diluc whips around and releases Ajax to hiss, “Don’t say that name out loud!”

Zhongli stares him down. The bar owner seems to realize his mistake and his angry eyes grow dark. He glances around to see everyone staring and clears his throat.

“Come with me.” He paces behind the bar and through the door to the back. Ajax and Zhongli exchange a glance before following.

He looks back to find Hu Tao. Their table isn’t visible through the crowd. Leaving a minor alone in a bar is probably a bad idea, but they don’t have time to grab her.

Diluc slams the backroom door shut and locks it before turning to Zhongli and Ajax with a glare. “Where did you hear that name? Explain before I change my mind.”

Zhongli decides to take point. This man, even if he isn’t the vigilante, definitely knows of him. “We came here on the recommendation of Zhenyu. He told us the Dark Knight can help us.”

“You know Zhenyu?” His suspicion shifts slightly.

“Yes.” 

“Why should the Dark Knight help you?”

“We’re enemies of the Fatui.” Zhongli gestures to Ajax. “He’s trying to leave them, actually, but there are some…magical complications. We need help.”

“Leave the Fatui?” Diluc crosses his arms.

“I never wanted to work for them,” Ajax says. “I’m taking my chance to get out.”

Diluc scoffs. “I know who you are, Childe. How do you expect me to believe that?”

The fact that Diluc knows who he is just reinforces the suspicion that he is the Dark Knight. Ajax said only those who had connections with the underground could know his face on sight. 

“Zhenyu vouches for us,” Zhongli says.

Diluc stares between them for a moment as if trying to figure out the trick. “And who the fuck are you exactly?”

“I’m an exorcist from Liyue,” he says. “Friend of Zhenyu.”

“And why are you helping him?”

“We’re…friends.” Zhongli tries to keep his gaze level.

Every muscle in Diluc’s body is tense, but his voice is calmer. “How did an exorcist from Liyue make friends with a Fatui Harbinger?”

Ah. It seems he knows who Ajax is. This could go very wrong if they don’t gain his trust.

 “I’m not sure we know each other well enough for that story,” Zhongli says calmly.

Diluc glances at Ajax, then scoffs. “I see.” 

“We just need to talk to the Dark Knight,” Ajax says. “Then we’ll leave.”

The bar owner leans against a barrel and stares at the floor. “I’ve dreamed about meeting you, you know. Finally coming face to face with the assassin who’s hunted my friends. Do you know how many Mondstadtians you’ve killed?”

“Yes.” Ajax is once again quiet, eyes empty just as with Hu Tao’s friends. “Nine.”

Diluc pauses in surprise, then scowls again. “One of those was my good friend, Elzer. Remember him?”

“I remember,” Ajax says. Zhongli sends him a pointed look: You’d better not offer yourself for revenge. Diluc would happily take him up on that, and Zhongli would prefer not to die yet.

“He borrowed some money to start his own business. And he succeeded. Fatui Corp tried to buy him off to maintain their monopoly, but he refused. Next I heard, he died in a factory fire. But my informants found out the truth. Anyone threatens big business, and you’re there with a gun to their head, right?”

“Aren’t you big business?” The words slip out before Zhongli realizes they’re counterproductive. “You’re Diluc Ragnvindr, aren’t you? You own the entire Mondstadt wine industry.”

“I pay my workers well,” Diluc scoffs. “I take care of my customers. The Knights leave me alone because I pretend to cooperate. They don’t know it’s all a front to help the common people.”

“So you are the Dark Knight,” Zhongli says.

Diluc looks away, eyes tightening. “I didn’t come up with that stupid name, but yeah. So I run the wine industry to help people.”

“Sounds like a rich man’s excuse,” Ajax mutters.

“Excuse me?” Diluc wheels on him.

“I’m sorry I killed your friend.” Ajax makes eye-contact. “I’m sorry for everyone I’ve killed. But I was born in a slum, and the Fatui took me when I was a child. You were born rich. Are you trying to make yourself feel better by claiming to game the system that gave you the privilege to help people?”

“Are you trying to get me to change my mind about killing you?” Diluc growls.

“Please,” Zhongli interjects with a glare at Ajax. “We’re all on the same side.”

“Yeah?” The bar owner’s posture is defensive again. “I swore if I ever met a Harbinger, I’d kill them on sight. You want me to go back on my word?”

“We are willing to pay for information,” Zhongli says.

“You know I don’t need money.”

“Is there anything else we can offer you?”

His eyes narrow. “That’s a lot to ask after insulting me.”

Zhongli glances at Ajax, whose flushes and looks away. “I meant what I said.”

“Now isn’t the time to be stubborn,” Zhongli says carefully. “Apologize.”

Ajax’s eyes flash, determination returning. “I meant what I said.”

They shouldn’t argue in front of a stranger, but Zhongli grits his teeth anyway. “So?”

“So I told you I want to make my own choices now,” Ajax says.

“This is too important. Our entire future is at stake.”

“So I should lie?”

His own words with Hu Tao echo back. He hates proving her right, but: “Yes. Is your pride more important than our families?”

A rough laugh interrupts them. Diluc’s eyes finally gleam with something that’s not anger. “I see now.”

“See what?” Zhongli calms his tone.

“This.” Diluc points between them. “He’s leaving the Fatui for you?”

“What do you mean?”

Diluc just snorts. “So that’s how to take down a Harbinger….”

“What are you implying?” Zhongli knows full well what he means.

The red-haired man raises an eyebrow. “Am I wrong? This certainly sheds light on things.”

Zhongli internally struggles for a moment before realizing this is an ideal way to convince him. As much as Zhongli hates it.

“You’re not wrong.” Zhongli glances at Ajax, who thankfully shows no shock when he says, “A–Childe may have once worked for the Fatui, but we’re trying to put that behind us. So we can…be together.”

He hopes his tone is convincing. It helps when Ajax draws close, slides a hand into his, and gives him a look that is a stunningly perfect blend of lingering stubbornness, desperation, and also affection.

Ajax is a bit too good at faking personalities.

Diluc eyes their hands. Zhongli grips his hand back tightly and feels that annoying rush of energy at the skin contact. At least it helps him stay in character.

“I never thought I’d see the day.” Diluc scowls in confusion. “You’re a Harbinger. You’re supposed to be a bloodthirsty psychopath. How could this have happened?”

“Yeah, well.” Ajax tightens his grip. “Not everything is as it seems.”

“I guess.” For once, Diluc looks at them with something other than hostility. A guarded curiosity. “Is it just you then? Or are all the Fatui capable of… feelings?”

Ajax opens his mouth as if to argue, but then shuts it, looking stumped. “Just me, I guess.”

“Huh,” Diluc says. “The only Harbinger I’ve met only loved one thing, and that was tearing people apart for his own amusement.”

“I’m done with all that.” Ajax puts his other hand on Zhongli’s elbow and pulls his arm close. “I want to start a new life.”

Diluc stares at them for a moment. “I don’t really believe in second chances,” he says slowly, “but what would you need my help for?”

“We were told to come to you for information about the Knights getting their hands on some demon blood.” Zhongli steers the conversation back to the point.

Diluc relaxes a bit, though he watches Ajax like a ticking bomb. “What do you want with the demon blood?”

“They put a curse on me,” Ajax says. “We need the blood to reverse it. So I can quit the Fatui.”

Diluc crosses his arms and thinks for a long minute. “Maybe there is something you could do for me in exchange. You know il Dottore?” 

“Yeah.” Ajax frowns.

Diluc’s red eyes turn almost black. “You could kill that bastard for me.”

“Kill…Dottore? Specifically?” Ajax says. “What did he do to you?”

Diluc’s gaze has returned to a deep anger like simmering coals. “That’s none of your business. I just want that psycho dead.”

After a pause, Ajax ventures, “Well, I’d happily take you up on that because I’d also like to see him dead, but it may be a little difficult since I’ve gone AWOL. I couldn’t get close to him.”

“Yeah, figured it’s too much to ask.” Diluc sighs. He scans them for a moment before something settles in his gaze. “I guess there’s something else you could help with.”

“What is it?” Zhongli asks. Finally, some progress.

“I was planning on carrying out a strike on the Knights tomorrow.” He raises a hand in suggestion. “It would be helpful if I had a real alibi this time. Do it for me, and then we can talk.”

Zhongli feels himself bristling. “So you’re not a vigilante, you’re a terrorist?”

Diluc folds his arms. “I don’t kill anyone. The plan is to steal supplies.”

“You want us to attack the government of Mondstadt?” Zhongli scoffs. “That’s too much.”

“It’s just a small raid.” Diluc shrugs. “You won’t run into any knights. No one will get hurt, and no one will be the wiser. I’ve never gotten caught all these years.”

Zhongli glances at Ajax, still attached to his arm, who also looks hesitant. “Can we have some time to think about it?”

Diluc surveys them again for a long moment. “I’ll give you until tomorrow morning. Come to the bar by nine if you’re in. If not, you don’t get my help.”

Both Ajax and Zhongli open their mouths, but Diluc has already opened the door. “Now, get out.”

Diluc watches them make their way out of the bar area. Zhongli sees him lean in to mutter something to Charles, eyes following until they’re out of sight, back to the table where they left Hu Tao.

Surprisingly, she doesn’t look angry, only bemused as she stares at their joined hands. “What have you two been up to?”

Zhongli maintains his grip on Ajax’s hand in case Diluc is watching. Now that the bar owner has settled down, none of the customers give them a second glance. It seems the regulars are no strangers to witnessing dramatic outbursts.

“We found him,” Zhongli says to Hu Tao. “Come on, let’s go.”

As soon as the door to Angel’s Share closes, Zhongli drops Ajax’s hand. And moves three feet away for good measure. 

Ajax’s gaze returns to dead as he looks at his empty hand. “That was a good idea. I can’t believe it convinced him, though.”

“Perhaps the Dark Knight has a soft spot,” Zhongli says. Or perhaps we’re just good actors. It dawns on him that they’ll have to keep up the act as long as they’re around Diluc.

Hu Tao crosses her arms and clears her throat loudly. Outside, the sun has begun to drop low in the sky, and more people crowd the street. "Care to explain?"

“The owner of the bar is the man we were looking for." Zhongli starts walking back where they came from. "He wants us to help him carry out a strike on the Knights, and then he’ll talk.”

“A strike?” Her eyes light up.

“We’re not fighting anyone.” They arrive at the corner where the streetcar stops. “I would leave you at the hotel, actually, but in case things go wrong and we need to run, it’s better to have you there.” He gives her a firm glare. “You promised not to make trouble.”

Hu Tao looks up at him and bats her eyelashes. “Who? Me? I would never make trouble.”

He sighs. "Well, I'm sorry we left you behind.” 

“It’s okay, I made a friend while you were doing business,” Hu Tao says.

“A friend?”

“Don’t worry.” Her mischievous smile says anything but. “He was a nice local bard.”

Zhongli would scold her for talking to strangers, but it’s his fault he left her alone. He just sighs again as the streetcar rumbles to a stop in front of them. At least, with all this excitement, he hasn’t had time to think about his dream. Or Ajax. Or the future.

They may have asked for time to think about it, but it seems like helping Diluc is their only choice. 

After dinner and the decision to go for it, they settle in for the night, and Zhongli’s thoughts return once more to Barbatos. 

It’s been years since the memories of Guizhong and Azhdaha have assaulted him like that. His careful control over his own thoughts has kept them at bay. He wonders if he’ll have another nightmare tonight, this time about the loss of a dear friend.

What am I now that I have let them all die?

At least tomorrow, back in the land of freedom, Zhongli can honor Barbatos by helping his people, if just a little bit.

Chapter Text

“You came.” Diluc’s face is passive as he surveys them. “Who’s this?”

The backroom of Angel’s Share is lit by a single lantern that throws twisted shadows over the many stacked barrels. The air is chilled, despite the strong sunlight just outside. Ajax, Zhongli, and Hu Tao stand tense before the bar owner.

“Hu Tao.” She sticks out a hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Diluc eyes her hand before taking it. “A teenager?”

“I’m the director of Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, thank you very much.” She grips his hand and swings it up and down enthusiastically. “And from one business owner to another, I’d like to give you a tip or two on your advertising. Those posters outside—”

Zhongli clears his throat loudly. “We came, Mr. Ragnvindr. What do you need us to do?”

“Follow me.” He gives Hu Tao a last glance before moving to the back and dragging a barrel over to reveal a trap door. “The supplies are in one of my storehouses.”

They descend into a narrow, dirt tunnel. It was clearly hand-dug. Diluc holds up a lantern to illuminate a tunnel that stretches so far that it must lead beyond the city walls.

“How have you gotten away with this?” Ajax frowns. “Did you dig under the lake?”

“I know this city better than any of the knights.” Diluc starts walking. “It took a year, but I was able to create a whole network avoiding the sewer system.”

“Is it…safe?” Ajax asks.

“Yes,” the vigilante replies shortly.

Ajax would like to ask more, but Diluc hurries forward. After twenty minutes of walking through the tight, dirt tunnel, a sharp descent and then gentle ascent, they reach another trap door.

Diluc unlocks it with a key, and they emerge to a small storehouse that—judging by the blinding sunlight through the windows—must be somewhere outside the city.

“The Knights are strict about magic.” Diluc sets down the lantern and opens a crate. “So I have to keep the supplies to make ward-counters outside the city.”

Hu Tao looks all-too excited as she peers into the crate, while Zhongli bristles. “And what exactly will we do with them?”

“I’ll tell you when we get to that part.” Diluc stares back, unbothered. “We won’t hurt anyone, I swear.”

Zhongli folds his arms. “I need more assurance that I am not aiding a terrorist.”

“I’m not a terrorist,” Diluc growls. “I do what needs to be done to help the citizens, but I’ve never killed anyone.”

“There’s a fine line between freedom fighter and terrorist.” Zhongli remains unmoved. “How can we know which side you fall on?”

“Do you want my help or not?” Diluc asks. “I’m not stopping you from walking away.”

“So you don’t have an answer?”

“I trust him.” Ajax surprises himself by interjecting. 

“You do?” Zhongli makes unusually intense eye-contact with him, and Ajax tries to resist his face reddening.

“Yeah, he won’t kill anyone.” Ajax is very familiar with doing anything it takes to protect people while attempting to maintain some kind of moral code. “I can tell.”

Diluc’s expression sours with Ajax’s support, but he doesn’t argue.

“Fine.” Zhongli’s arms remain folded. “But we’ll leave the moment there’s conflict.”

“There won’t be,” Diluc says flatly.

He starts unloading supplies while the three glance at each other. Hu Tao looks amused, while Zhongli is clearly uncomfortable. Ajax hopes his instinct is right.

“I’ll go through the building layout and guard rotations later.” Diluc turns back to them. “For now—” He gestures at Ajax. “Fatui, you know how to make a ward-counter?”

“I usually just use magic,” Ajax says.

“Can’t do that here,” Diluc says. “They have wards to detect anything. Using magic to take one down will set off another. I’ve looked for loopholes, believe me. So? Can you make a ward-counter?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. You’ll stay here with me.” He turns to the others. “I need you two to go get something.”

Ajax feels Zhongli’s energy rise defensively. “You want us to split up?”

Diluc just raises an eyebrow. “I have a contact who’s procuring a key for us. His rotation in the armory ends soon, so he’ll be on patrol outside the walls with the key. You two will pretend to be lost tourists. Ask for help, he’ll pass you the key. Then come back here.”

“I would prefer if we didn’t split up,” Zhongli says.

Diluc’s jaw clenches. “It’s perfectly safe. There has to be some level of trust for us to work together, doesn’t there?”

Zhongli glances at Ajax, clearly worried. Remembering their act, Ajax puts a hand on his arm. “It’s okay,” he says softly. “I’ll be fine.”

He knows Zhongli’s concern with letting him out of his sight is probably based on mistrust of Ajax, not Diluc. While his voice and eyes are soft, his thoughts are bitter: I swore not to betray you, didn’t I?

Zhongli seems to get the message, and he also keeps up the act. “Alright.” His voice is as gentle as the hand that takes Ajax’s. His tenderness is fake, but gods if it doesn’t make Ajax almost choke. “Be careful.”

Hu Tao looks like she’s about to burst out laughing. Thankfully, Diluc’s eyes are glued on the other two. He seems to restrain himself from rolling them.

“Yes, it’ll be fine.” He crosses his arms. “I have no intentions of murdering your boyfriend. At least not today.”

“Very well.” Zhongli’s eyes finally leave Ajax’s, and he can breathe again.

Diluc gives them further instructions about retrieving the key, and then the two exorcists head out the door. Ajax squeezes Zhongli’s hand with a smile before letting go. The lingering gaze Zhongli throws him almost feels like real concern.

Diluc snorts after the door closes. “I still don’t get it.”

Ajax—ever the good actor—lets himself flush. He tries to tell himself that it is just acting as Diluc lays out the equipment and also gives him instructions.

They sit on the floor together, where Diluc has assembled a makeshift alchemy table. Ajax watches him sort ingredients while he explains in precise detail the nature of the Knights’ storehouse’s wards.

“Why do you know so much about the Knights?” Ajax ventures to ask.

Diluc’s permanent scowl deepens. “That’s none of your business.” 

“Seems like you have a lot of insider knowledge.”

“I have contacts.”

Contacts? That can’t be the whole story. Ajax is familiar enough with this kind of clandestine work that he knows a defector when he sees one. “You used to be a knight, didn’t you?”

Diluc’s hands twitch, almost breaking a small pot. If it were possible for him to glower darker, he probably would.

Ajax almost laughs. “It seems like we have something in common.”

“It’s not the same at all,” Diluc growls.

“Why’d you quit?”

The vigilante starts pouring powder into a mortar. He’s silent for so long that Ajax thinks he’s not going to answer. Then, a quiet mutter: “They let my father die and asked me to cover it up.”

“Does that have anything to do with Dottore?” Ajax remembers the man’s anger toward his fellow Harbinger yesterday.

“Yeah.” In Diluc’s dark eyes is a story that will never see the light of day. “Do you have one of those delusion things?”

“I do.” Ajax glances at the door, far beyond which is Zhongli with his delusion.

“I’d get rid of it as fast as possible if you don’t want to die.”

Ajax gives a weak smile. “Yeah, I know. But I need it to fight.”

“I get that.” Diluc looks at him, gaze hard and surprisingly concerned. “But when you choose to tear your body apart for power, it hurts the people around you more than yourself.”

He’s clearly speaking from personal experience. Ajax nods. “I’m…aware.”

Diluc returns his eyes to the alchemy table. “Like I said, I don’t give a shit about you, but it would be stupid if you got yourself killed after those two are risking everything for you. You shouldn’t hurt them like that.”

Diluc believes a different story from the truth, but his words ring true anyway. Ajax has never wanted to hurt his family by injuring himself, and now that he and Zhongli are tied together, it’s even more important that he doesn’t get hurt.

“Yeah,” he says quietly.

“Anyway.” Diluc clears his throat. “Shut up so we can finish this.”

He shoves a few ingredients into Ajax’s hands, and they start to work in silence. The quiet between them is more comfortable now.

They’re both ex-government and both of their families were hurt by the Fatui. Diluc is somewhat of a hypocrite, of course, considering their backgrounds are more similar that his hate would allow him to admit. But it gives Ajax hope for himself.

He doesn’t have money or power outside the Fatui, and unlike Diluc he can’t just walk away from his position. But it seems this world is full of rebels. Maybe together, they all stand a chance.

Both Diluc and Zhongli seem completely jaded, but Ajax hopes he won’t lose this fresh hope so quickly.

After ten years of slavery, any light at the end of the tunnel is intoxicating. Even as a shadow darker than any he’s faced looms over him, he’s found hope in the relief that one way or another, it will all be over soon. It’s not a blissful, naive hope. It is both weather-worn and fresh, battered and weak.

Either he and his family will finally be free of the Fatui’s shackles, or they will be dead and he can sleep peacefully forever. The end itself, regardless of the outcome, has breathed fresh life into his ideals.

He keeps quiet while they finish, occasionally sneaking a glance at Diluc. The vigilante’s scowl lessens by the minute, until the tension is drained from the air like gas to a flame. They work in easy silence.

They’ll never be friends, but if Ajax can convince someone who hates him so intensely to calm down and work with him, maybe there’s hope for a future where Ajax is just a normal person and no one curses his name.

Maybe it means there’s hope that he can get through to Zhongli, too.

***

The stone corridors of the Knights’ storehouse are still as the sea before a storm. The first ward-counter fizzes to sparks in Ajax’s hand as they step into a safe zone.

“We have fifteen minutes,” Zhongli murmurs. “Next is blue.”

Ajax withdraws the next ward-counter. It’s been a tense hour of getting to the side door, using the stolen key, destroying the stolen key, and making their way systematically deeper into the storehouse. Their destination lies in a basement a few staircases away. The windows are small and crossed with iron, but the sound of heavy rain outside makes its way through the stone.

So far, the security is tight but not particularly difficult to overcome. However, not being able to use magic makes the process slow and painful. Plus, they have Hu Tao with them, so they’re taking every precaution.

They take a left turn, Ajax disables the ward on a thick, iron door, and they make their way down a staircase into a long underground corridor.

The stone is chilling. Bare lightbulbs strung to the ceiling flicker, and the sound of dripping water echoes through the silence. There are suspiciously large holes spaced evenly along the walls. But Diluc didn’t mention anything about physical traps.

“Something feels wrong.” Hu Tao frowns, face cast in strange shadows.

“Does it?” Zhongli says.

Ajax casts his sense around, but even the strongest wards feel faint in comparison to the intensity of Zhongli’s energy, a sun bright enough to block out every other star.

“My senses are compromised,” Zhongli says to him. “Your energy is blinding me.”

“Same here.” Ajax shakes his head. “I can’t see past you.”

“That’s probably very bad,” Hu Tao says as casually as if talking about the weather. “I don’t have elemental sight. If you two are blind….”

“What exactly feels wrong?” Ajax asks as he moves forward. They’ve gotten past all the wards except the final door. According to Diluc’s instructions, they just have to get into a room at the end of this hall.

“You know when you walk into Wangsheng and the air feels heavy?” she says. “It’s the same feeling.”

Ajax and Zhongli exchange a glance. That feeling is the weight of magic from all the ancient artifacts collected in the parlor. Old, strong magic.

“This is a storehouse,” Ajax reasons. “They probably have magical stuff stored here.”

“Let’s proceed with caution,” Zhongli mutters, moving in front. “If we don’t make any wrong moves, nothing should—”

Faster than Ajax can follow, something shoots out of the wall and hits Zhongli in the face before he can finish his sentence. He rips it off and wrenches it in two with his bare hands almost as fast.

For a moment, the three of them stare at the twitching, sparking metal spider, half of which is in each of Zhongli’s hands. He drops it to the floor. Ajax barely registers the dull pain reflected on his own face from the impact.

“Zhongli!” Hu Tao’s voice catches up to everyone’s thoughts and she steps forward.

“Stop.” He holds out a hand. “Don’t move.”

“Are you okay?” Her voice echoes through the corridor, sharp and high in panic, and Ajax is scanning the holes again and did Diluc lie to them? He didn’t anything about automatons shooting out of the walls.

“It didn’t hurt me.” Zhongli’s voice is steady, though his energy spikes brightly. “We need to—”

In hindsight, perhaps Ajax shouldn’t have been so quick to trust a man who passionately wants him dead.

One after another, metal spiders the size of small dogs start shooting from the holes in the walls, their purpose now obvious.

“Back!” Zhongli shouts, and he and Ajax instinctively close around Hu Tao as they try to step back to the staircase. But the spiders are already upon them.

While Zhongli has the physical strength to effortlessly rip metal apart, without magic, Ajax is just a human. The tiny machines throw themselves at them, dull legs stabbing. He punches them back and feels his hands start to bruise.

Their strong, blunt legs are ideal for constraint. The spiders aren’t meant to kill, only to capture. That doesn't mean they don't hurt.

They didn’t bring weapons, of course. It would be bad if they got caught with weapons, and Diluc said they wouldn’t have to fight anything.

Ajax grabs Hu Tao and pulls her towards the nearest door. Zhongli covers them, tearing the spiders apart with inhuman speed. The door opens and they tumble through it into a small, dark room filled with stacked crates.

Zhongli tries to shut the door, but it opens in and now dozens of spiders are pushing against it from the other side. He manages to overcome them, but before he can shut it all the way, they’ve somehow broken the door hinges and it falls back.

Ajax has been in conflict almost continuously for years, but he can barely follow what happens next as Zhongli picks up the entire door to use as a shield and the three of them stumble behind a stack of crates. Ajax’s instincts carry him through the chaos to shove Hu Tao to the safest corner and help Zhongli brace the door against the onslaught of automatons.

“Why didn’t we bring weapons!?” Hu Tao groans.

“We can’t use magic.” Zhongli grits his teeth as a hard shove knocks their makeshift shield against their heads.

“You could have us out of here in seconds!” Hu Tao whispers.

Zhongli looks between them, eyes dark and hard. “I can’t use magic. My energy will leave an imprint. They’ll know I’m an adeptus.”

“We’ll get killed if you don’t!” She joins them pushing against the shield.

“My delusion,” Ajax realizes. He turns to Zhongli. “I know you brought it. Let me get us out of here.”

Screw the wards. He’s sure the Knights already know they’re here. They’re probably on their way. Zhongli can’t use magic because his energy has a particular signature, but the delusion could be used by anyone. No identity attached.

Zhongli looks at him, and a battle of hesitation and fear plays out between them.

“Come on, we can’t win like this!” Ajax lets his own voice rise. “I need it.”

Zhongli stares for a moment before reaching out to yank both of them back as an orb of energy explodes the wooden door in their faces.

Shrapnel flies everywhere, but thankfully, Zhongli was fast enough to pull everyone out of the way. Except himself. Ajax gasps at the feeling of wooden shards piercing Zhongli’s back, but the adeptus himself doesn’t seem to mind.

It seems the spiders are turning to deadlier force.

Zhongli pulled them behind another set of crates. Spiders jump through the gap in their cover one by one, and Zhongli punches them back.

“Li-Li!” Hu Tao’s face freezes in horror from where she was thrown to the floor.

Ajax gets to his knees. There are pieces of wood sticking out of Zhongli’s back. It seems to be a minor inconvenience to the former god, but it feels like just a taste of what could happen. A blow like that could kill the two humans.

“I need my delusion!” Ajax half-shouts. “Zhongli, please!”

They both freeze as Ajax realizes it might be the first time he’s actually said his name to his face. Their eyes lock for half a second amidst the action. Zhongli’s are dark, pained, and full of stubbornness. Ajax has half a mind to shove a hand into his pockets and find the delusion himself while he’s distracted.

“Isn’t it dangerous?” Zhongli hurls a spider back and then turns to search his eyes.

“Yeah, well.” Diluc’s words ring in Ajax’s head, and he regrets he can’t honor them. “I haven’t died from using it yet, have I?”

“You have both our lives in your hands now,” Zhongli says, voice hard.

“Trust me.” Ajax takes his attention off the battle to put it fully into his gaze. “Zhongli, please. Let me take care of it.”

Zhongli stares at him for a moment more, before pulling the gem from his pocket. Ajax grabs it before he can change his mind and starts to move out from their cover. “Look away, Zhongli.”

Amber eyes flash with panic. “Look away? Why?”

“You already hate me.” Ajax flashes a weak smile back at him as he moves forward. “You shouldn’t see me using power I stole from your people.”

He doesn’t have time to register Zhongli’s reaction as he springs into action.

It feels good to use his power again. To reconnect to the energy thrumming in the ley lines, filling the earth below. An almost intoxicating rush. Of course, it comes with terrible consequences, but while he’s using his delusion, the rush is addictive.

He fashions himself some hydro blades and dances through the mob of spiders. The water slices through their metal cleanly. He adds a dash of electricity to electrocharge them and watches as the hydro and electro ripple through them, sparking and splashing and ruining their circuitry.

A dozen fall in three seconds. He clears the room in ten.

Out into the hall, dozens more rush at him, but with a hydro shield running along his skin and blades whirling, they can’t touch him.

After a path is cleared, Zhongli and Hu Tao follow him into the hall. Ajax glances back at them as he cuts his way towards the staircase. Zhongli has removed the shrapnel from his back, fists up defensively, but all the spiders are concentrated on Ajax, ignoring the others. Just before he reaches the staircase, the automatons abruptly freeze. Ajax spins, blades out, panting, as the other two reach him and they stand back to back.

The spiders have gathered behind them. Before they can rush towards the open staircase, the jingling of armor echoes down the staircase, and a full patrol of knights bursts out.

Of course they noticed a fight had broken out.

At least ten knights are now between them and freedom, automatons behind. The knights fan out and draw their swords, faces hard. They’re surrounded.

One of the knights—a captain—moves forward. “Surrender.”

Ajax is fully ready to tear a path through the knights, but before he can move, a deep voice echoes through the chamber. “We surrender.”

He whips around to Zhongli, whose hands are in the air. Hu Tao gives him a bewildered look but follows suit.

“What are you doing?” Ajax hisses. He still brandishes his swords as he presses closer to Zhongli’s side.

“We’re not killing any humans.”

“We can get through without killing anyone.”

“We’re not hurting anyone,” Zhongli says commandingly.

You’re not hurting anyone is implied in his words. Ajax huffs, realizing it's pointless to be the only one resisting, and dismisses his weapons. 

“Put your weapons on the ground,” the captain orders.

Ajax pulls his delusion out of his pocket and slides it across the floor towards them. His body already aches from even that moderate use of power.

“Who are you?” The captain crouches to pick up the delusion, and her eyes narrow in confusion as she looks between it and them. “How did you get in here?”

The knights behind her look astonished at the wreckage of their guard spiders. Ajax can imagine this is a bizarre scene to come upon.

None of them answer her questions, but the captain doesn’t seem to mind. “You’re under arrest for breaking and entering. Come quietly and we won’t hurt you.”

All of Ajax’s instincts are screaming against this, but Zhongli seems intent on surrendering. As he lets a knight handcuff him, his eyes don’t leave Zhongli’s face.

I can get us out of here. You still don’t trust me? I said I don’t want to hurt anyone. He’s never wanted to hurt anyone. He would never kill someone over something like this. I’m not a monster.

How are they going to get out of this situation now? Did Diluc betray them? Are the Knights going to recognize him and call the Fatui?

Ajax gains no answers from the hard, golden depths of Zhongli's eyes.

Chapter Text

“Welp.” Hu Tao peers through the tiny window of their cell door. “We’re definitely going to prison.”

She turns back with her usual cheerful smirk, and Zhongli restrains himself from rolling his eyes.

“We are not going to prison.” He sits on the long bench next to Ajax, who has curled into a corner. “We will get out of this one way or another.”

Zhongli tries to fight back the fight-or-flight bubbling in his veins that demands they smash their way out of the cell immediately. This situation can’t be solved with a hot head.

They’re in a roomy cell with a single bench, flickering incandescent bulb overhead, and solid metal door. The rain has evolved into a thunderstorm that they can hear from even deep in the Knights’ headquarters.

They were marched here from the storehouse after everything on them was confiscated. The knights also graciously checked them for serious injuries, but Zhongli’s back had already healed enough that he didn’t need anything. If they were confused at the holes in his coat, they didn’t show it. Now his back is fully healed. The least of their concerns, anyway.

They were thrown in here a few minutes ago and told they’d be interrogated in the morning. It was impossible to tell what the captain was thinking as she informed them with a straight face.

“The Knights will tell the Fatui,” Ajax mutters. “And they’ll come for us.”

Ajax’s own panic is exacerbating the dark stirring in Zhongli’s stomach. He feels an irrational surge of irritation towards the human, though none of this is Ajax’s fault.

“The two governments are on bad terms right now,” Zhongli says. “I doubt they’ll tell them.”

“They caught a Harbinger breaking and entering.” Ajax presses his head against the wall.

“They haven’t recognized you yet,” Zhongli sighs. “We don’t have ID on us. And if they do, they’ll probably think this is a Fatui plot against them, so why would they tell the enemy?”

“Maybe.” Ajax opens his eyes, but they’re dark and pained.

Zhongli feels a flare of something as he looks over him. A deep, tissue ache that radiates out from seemingly everywhere that he’d been ignoring until he sat down.

“What….” Another wave comes, sharp and tickling. “Are you okay?”

“Hm?” Ajax looks up.

“I…feel….” Zhongli puts a hand to his chest. “What is this pain?”

“Oh.” Ajax’s face falls further. “I’m sorry. It’s the backfire from my delusion.”

Zhongli tries not to wince. “So it is dangerous.”

“This side-effect is normal. Hang on.” Ajax sits up and slides a hand inside his shirt. There’s a ripping sound as he opens a hidden pocket.

“Normal? ” Zhongli says as Ajax pulls out a tiny pill.

“Yeah.” Ajax swallows the pill. “Should feel better in a minute.”

Zhongli stares at him. So when he said I haven’t died from using it yet, have I? he really meant the thing could kill him? Admittedly, if Zhongli hadn’t stopped him, he’s sure Ajax could have torn through those knights in seconds. But such power always comes at a terrible price. And right now, both of them have to pay it.

Ajax looks so small slumped against the wall. Only minutes ago, Zhongli watched in awe—a phantom rush of power in his own veins—as Ajax danced through the automatons like they were nothing. He looked so at ease, so elegant, so—

Not helpful.

Despite what Ajax asked, Zhongli couldn’t look away from the sight of his eyes, always so dead, seeming to at last sparkle with real emotion, with fierce determination, their blue turned from a void galaxy to one filled with—

Focus.

“You should only use your delusion when absolutely necessary.” Zhongli tries to keep his voice level.

“Yeah, well, we’re about to die anyway, right?” Ajax looks at him, eyes now back to empty.

“We are not going to die,” Zhongli says firmly. “And we’re not going to prison.”

“They took our weapons. And the wards on this cell are military grade.”

Hu Tao cackles as she flops down between them. “We’re gonna diiiieeee.”

Evidently, Zhongli will have to be the voice of reason. “Do you have anything else hidden in there that could help us escape?” He eyes Ajax’s clothing.

“No.” Ajax leans back against the wall. His face is starting to relax as Zhongli feels the pain gently melt away. “They searched me thoroughly. But the Fatui really drill in the importance of a cyanide pill pocket. Loyalty even in death.”

“Cyanide?”

Ajax’s mouth twitches up. “Obviously, I just took something else.”

“I have something hidden,” Hu Tao interrupts in a dangerously sing-song voice.

Zhongli frowns at her. “What?”

Her grin widens and she takes off one of her rings. A faint gleam of magic sparks from it, before, with a green flash, it transforms into a full wine bottle.

“Where did you get that?” Zhongli’s defenses rise again.

He regrets every decision that led to him becoming her legal guardian as her eyes glint. “A guy at the bar gave it to me.”

“A random person offered you a magic wine bottle?” Zhongli struggles to keep his voice level. “And you accepted it?”

She shrugs. “He said it would come in handy in a time of need.”

Zhongli is too bewildered to come up with a response. He resolves to never leave Hu Tao alone again. Even in those five minutes at the bar, she managed to get caught up in something suspicious.

He sits forward. “Is it actually wine?”

“Only one way to find out.” Hu Tao yanks the cork and it pops out easily. She sniffs it. “Seems like it.”

Then—gods save them—Hu Tao goes to take a swig.

“Hu Tao!” Zhongli snatches at the bottle, but she scoots out of his reach just as fast. She pulls back as far as possible, crowding Ajax against the wall.

“It’s my magic wine.” She frowns where she leans against an amused and unhelpful Ajax. “If you want some, you have to ask.”

“This isn’t funny,” he growls. “You’re underage, you shouldn’t drink suspicious liquids, and we’re in jail.”

Her playful smirk reminds Zhongli just why he wanted to leave her behind. “Come on, Li-Li, it’s our last night on earth. Can’t we have some fun?”

He’s about to scold her for real and take the bottle, but he notices a slight tremble to her voice and recognizes something hidden in her smiling eyes.

Fear. Hu Tao is afraid.

Zhongli never thought he’d see it. In the face of demons and death, she only ever has a cheerful smirk. His heart softens. “Tao’er....”

“Come on,” she repeats, and the tremor in her voice is even more obvious.

Zhongli glances at Ajax for help because he wants to comfort her but can’t let her drink of all things. Ajax seems to get the message.

Unfortunately, it appears that he’s just as foolish as she is because his solution is to say “Can I share?”

“Of course!” She sits up and hands him the bottle. “See, I knew you were—”

She and Zhongli both freeze as Ajax tips it back and chugs the entire bottle. “Problem solved,” he says as he wipes his mouth.

Zhongli barely restrains himself from profanity. “Ajax—”

“It seems like it’s just wine.” He holds up the bottle and peers at its green glass. “Not sure how it’d be helpful in a time of need.”

“How could you betray me like this?” Hu Tao pouts, but Zhongli can see that she’s actually amused.

The problem is not solved, but Zhongli reigns in his frustration because Hu Tao seems calmer and at least she can’t threaten to drink anymore. Her capacity for fluctuating between wisdom and childishness is nothing short of exasperating. Zhongli will never understand teenagers even after raising one.

He stands and walks to the cell door. If these two won’t work on a solution, he’ll do it alone.

His fingers skim the edges of the door as he examines the wards. There are things he could do if he tapped into his true power, but the original problem remains: if he uses adeptal energy, he’ll out himself. And with Ajax’s delusion confiscated, their hopes of breaking out of here through force are naught.

Even if they did use force, there are certainly knights out there patrolling the halls. Zhongli won’t hurt anyone. Even as his long-dead instincts threaten to flicker to life, he reminds himself that he’s not a warrior anymore. He will not raise a hand against innocent humans unless it comes down to true life-or-death. Restraint is the only thing that separates him from the villains of this world like the Fatui and their agents.

As much as he misses his fighting spirit....

No. He’s retired and exhausted. He’s done fighting.

“It’s impossible to get out, isn’t it?” Hu Tao’s voice is the smallest he’s ever heard as he turns back to them.

He wants to comfort her, but he’s not sure how. His jaw clenches. “We can’t break out of here. We’ll have to try to reason with them when they interrogate us. Maybe we can trade ourselves for our vigilante friend.”

Even though they were caught breaking and entering and destroyed the Knights’ property, Zhongli is sure the Dark Knight’s identity would be a valuable bartering piece. He’s been thwarting the Knights for years. Perhaps they can cut a deal.

Thunder rumbles from outside the building, but the steady thrum of rain from far overhead is somehow comforting. Hu Tao puts her feet up on the bench and wraps her arms around her legs. After a second, her face perks up. “Wanna play a game?”

“Hu Tao,” Zhongli sighs as he sinks back onto the bench. “This is serious.”

“Exactly.” Her smile looks forced. “Let’s distract ourselves.”

He was right; she’s terrified and needs a distraction. That does explain her antics.

Zhongli glances at Ajax, whose face is slightly flushed. He shrugs in approval.

“Fine.” Zhongli settles against the wall. They have nothing better to do, and he often forgets just how young his adopted sister is. If she wants to pass the time by playing a game, very well.

“Let’s play truth or dare,” Hu Tao says. “You first. Truth or dare?”

Zhongli resists sighing again. “Dare,” he says because he knows she’ll absolutely ask something far too intimate in front of Ajax.

A real glint comes back to her eyes as she considers her options. Just before he thinks she’ll settle on him eating his shoe or something, she scoots closer and puts her head on his shoulder. “Tell me a story.”

He lets out a soft huff. “Which one?”

“I don’t know.” She shifts her head to get comfortable. “Something happy.”

“Well, we’re in the land of wind, how about something about Mondstadt’s history?”

“Not a history lecture,” she pouts. “A story.”

“I’ll make it interesting.” He can’t help smiling and begins to tell the story of Vennessa freeing her people a thousand years ago. He doesn’t want to think about Barbatos, but it’s a good story and worthy distraction.

Mondstadt is freedom. The old tale is no longer true. Their god is gone and so is the liberating wind that once flowed through this place.

“And then she established the Knights of Favonius and the rest is history,” he finishes.

Hu Tao yawns on his shoulder, which he takes as a good sign. “Okay, your turn to ask.”

“What?”

“The game, Li-Li.” She sits up with a smirk. “You ask Ajax.” She gestures at the other human, who leans against the wall watching them.

Zhongli clears his throat. “Okay. Er, truth or dare?”

Upon turning his attention to his soulmate, Zhongli realizes that he can feel the alcohol through their connection. As an adeptus, it would usually take a whole barrel of wine to get him tipsy, but it’s Ajax’s metabolism that they’re both dealing with now.

And the wine is starting to kick in. Zhongli feels a warm lull creeping up through his mind. Damn it, Hu Tao. Even though they’re stuck here, it’s still not safe to have their senses dulled.

“Truth, I guess,” Ajax replies.

Zhongli stumbles to the first question that comes to mind. “Did you…like the story?”

“Zhongli,” Hu Tao groans. “That’s not the kind of thing you’re supposed to ask.”

Ajax’s face, for whatever reason, flushes deeper. “Yeah. I’ve heard it before, but you’re a good storyteller.”

“Thank you.” Zhongli feels the strangest tickle in his stomach at the compliment.

Hu Tao sighs in exasperation. “Ajax, you better be more interesting.”

He looks at her. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth.” She grins devilishly. At least one good thing is that the game is cheering her up.

Ajax thinks for a moment, eyes a bit glazed. “Can I ask…I’m still curious about how you two met.”

“You can ask anything! Those are the rules.” Despite her words, she gives Zhongli a glance for approval.

He shrugs. Ajax will find out eventually, he supposes, and he can’t evade Hu Tao’s tactics forever. She seems desperate to make them friends, and while he’s still against it, he’ll give his tenacious sister the bare minimum.

“Well, I was 10 and I found Zhongli collapsed on the street,” Hu Tao continues. “Grandfather and I took him in and figured out he was Morax. And then, yeah. We’ve lived together ever since. I have to go to school, so Li-Li handles a lot of the business.”

Ajax glances between them and there are clearly a million more questions in his head. “And your parents?”

“Ah, they died years ago,” she says a little too cheerfully. “And Grandfather died when I was 13, so it’s just been us two since then.”

“I’m sorry,” Ajax says.

“It’s okay.” Genuine strength returns to her eyes. “Zhongli’s a great brother when he’s not being annoying.”

Ajax glances at him, and Zhongli averts his eyes.

“Everyone dies, you know,” Hu Tao continues. “I’m a mortician, so I’m used to it.”

“Sorry,” Ajax says quietly. “I…didn’t mean to bring up anything that—you know.”

“Don’t worry about it!” A threatening tinge enters her voice. “As long as you return the favor.”

Zhongli looks back at her and he suddenly sees exactly where this is going. “My turn,” she says with a smirk. “Ajax, truth or dare?”

“Don’t we have to go in order?” he says.

“Nope, you can ask anyone you want.”

Zhongli starts regretting trying to make her happy when Ajax says, “Truth, then.” 

“What are your siblings like?” she asks.

This exchange could be taken as an innocent way to pass the time, but it seems like Hu Tao knows exactly what she’s doing. Maybe Zhongli should’ve pretended to participate in her getting-to-know-each-other conversation on the train. Then she’d leave it alone now.

Ajax’s words have taken on a slight slur. “Uh, well, Tonia is your age. She’s going into her last year of school, like you are—sorry, would be.”

“But what’s she like?” Hu Tao says, and Zhongli knows this was absolutely her plan. Forget intimacy buffer, she’s become nothing but an intimacy generator. He remembers her comment yesterday: You’re going to be nicer, or I swear to the gods I’ll tell him all your secrets. She might just make good on that promise.

Overhead, the thunder gives a loud boom as Zhongli glares at Hu Tao. She pretends not to notice, eyes fixed on Ajax. His gaze is distant, absent of the usual defenses that guard it.

“Well,” the ex-assassin begins, “Tonia is kind of serious. She likes to be in charge. But she has a good sense of humor if you can get it out of her.”

“And the others?” Hu Tao’s tone is far too innocent.

“Teucer is the brightest, most cheerful kid you’ll ever meet.” A smile creeps over Ajax’s face like the barest touch of sunrise on the horizon. “He’s not too smart, but he’s very creative. And pretty annoying sometimes.” He laughs a little. “And Anthon…he likes to act out and look cool. He pretends he doesn’t miss me, but I know he’s soft on the inside….”

Zhongli stares. A smile—a real smile, rare as a spring flower peeking through the snow—is blossoming on Ajax’s face.

That smile does something to him then, something deep like a heavy blow to the chest. Something that knocks the breath out of him in a sudden gust. Something undeniable, but Zhongli gets back to his feet before the thought can keep him down.

“We’ll get them out,” Hu Tao says softly. “You’ll be together again.”

Ajax just nods, and the afterimage of that smile stays on Zhongli’s vision even after his expression drops back to empty.

Clearly, Ajax cares about his family a great deal. Zhongli knows exactly how much; he felt his pain when he imagined them being killed that first night.

And he feels it now. Clouded a bit, perhaps, by the alcohol in Ajax’s brain. But the thought of his siblings shines like a soft, warm glow that graces Zhongli’s own chest.

Of course Ajax would do anything for them. Would tear the world apart, would kill Zhongli for them. It’s only natural.

And Zhongli would do the same for the people he loves. For Hu Tao. Ajax’s choices are very understandable.

But something nags at him. Something that has felt wrong since they met.

If Ajax’s priority is to protect his family, why would he join the Fatui? Why would he put them in danger by working for dangerous people?

He said that he signed a contract. He was young and didn’t know exactly what he was agreeing to, but why sign it at all? He’s also explicitly said he never wanted to work for them. What's missing in his story?

“Is it my turn?” Zhongli interrupts.

“Uh, yeah?” Hu Tao frowns at the sudden tone change.

Zhongli has decided—to use Hu Tao’s words of choice—to fuck it. Her plan to make them get to know each other is succeeding. He might as well satiate his curiosity.

Also, he doesn’t want to admit it, but the warm caress of alcohol may be a contributing factor. Zhongli blinks through the haze that has settled in both their brains to finally ask: “Ajax, why did you join the Fatui?”

“Uh, Li-Li, you have to ask truth or dare.”

Zhongli ignores Hu Tao and stares into Ajax’s glazed eyes. The ex-assassin shifts uncomfortably and looks at the floor. “You really want to know?”

“It doesn’t make sense,” Zhongli says. “Your family is in danger because you work for the Fatui. Why would you sign a contract with them?”

“I made a mistake.” He smiles weakly. “I’m sure you don’t want to hear my excuses.”

“I do.” Zhongli’s voice comes out much stronger than he intended.

Ajax glances at him before settling his gaze on the floor. The tipsiness swirls when he slumps against the wall. “When I was 14, our apartment got haunted. It was…really bad. The demon possessed Tonia for a while and she–she almost died. We couldn’t afford to move. We had nowhere to go, and my parents had no money for an exorcism.”

Overhead, the sound of rain roars. Ajax’s eyelids drop a bit and his voice slows. “I was going to drop out of school and get a job. My parents were working two jobs each, everything we could do to make money. And it wasn’t enough.

“One day, there was talk that a Fatui Harbinger would be visiting our neighborhood. I thought—” Ajax swallows. “I thought I could ask him for help. I joined the crowd and saw Pulcinella walking around, surveying. I didn’t know it at the time, but they were planning to buy the whole neighborhood and tear it down, build a factory. Everyone would have been homeless....

“Anyway, he was clearly an arrogant, posh old man who saw us as nothing but trash, but I was young and stupid. There’s a lot of brainwashing, you know. We all thought the Harbingers were heroes. If anyone could take care of the demon, it would be him, right?

“I tried to get close to ask him for help. His guards…hit me. A child, begging for help, and they threw me back into the street.” Ajax’s eyes, still hazy, darken. “But I knew how to fight, so I beat a couple of them up. I caused a whole scene. One guard was probably about to kill me, but Pulcinella stopped them.” He shakes his head. “He saw something in me, I guess, when I beat up his guards. He listened to me.”

Zhongli feels something powerful sweep over Ajax at his next words, a regret so deep and dark that it shakes the foundations of his mind.

“Pulcinella said he could help and took me back to the capital. I just went along with everything. It was my only hope that someone would save us. I…I don’t remember exactly, but they put me through some tests, I guess to see if I could use magic? Then…she appeared, the CEO, and asked if I wanted to save my family. She offered me a contract: my service for not only an exorcism but also a comfortable life. My family would be safe and rich for the rest of their lives, and all I had to do was sign.”

Ajax’s voice has dropped to a murmur. “And you know the rest.”

Even with the roar of the thunderstorm overhead, the silence that falls between them is deafening. Zhongli blinks, trying to process.

“I’m sure you think it’s no excuse,” Ajax mutters in the same tone as his earlier You already hate me. “But there you have it.” 

Zhongli struggles to form a thought. “That is an excuse.”

Ajax snorts. “What happened to save your excuses?”

“I said that in anger.” Zhongli’s thoughts start to catch up with him. “You do have excuses. You were a victim.”

He looks away. “I don’t want your pity.”

“I— Thank you for telling us.”

“It’s just the game, isn’t it?” He doesn’t look up.

“Ajax, that’s horrible.” Hu Tao leans forward. “I’m so sorry.”

“It doesn’t change anything, does it?” Ajax’s eyes close. “We’re still in this mess because I trusted the wrong person. People died because I trusted the wrong person. You’re right—I put my family in danger.”

“You were trying to save them,” Hu Tao says.

“They don’t know,” he says softly, and Zhongli feels a bitter, poisonous darkness swell like a drop in water within him. “They have no idea what I’ve done all these years.”

Hu Tao glances, distraught, at Zhongli and he wants to say This is what you get for getting him drunk and meddling. But instead the strangest feeling is overwhelming him.

Ajax’s story does, in fact, change things. Namely, the shame Zhongli feels rising like sick in his stomach.

Is it good deeds that make a good person? Or good intentions? This is a question even the ancient god hasn’t found an answer to, but he can no longer deny that Ajax’s every intention has been to protect and not to destroy.

Even as he killed dozens. Even as he took Zhongli’s children. Even as he became a cog in the machine that ruined this world….

His intentions were good. And somehow, despite everything that he’s been through, Ajax still has hope. He still challenges Zhongli’s jadedness.

He was never past salvation. He did what he had to to survive, but somehow, impossibly, miraculously, he hasn’t let the Fatui break him.

And Zhongli is a hypocrite. He has said cruel, callous things to someone who is as much a victim as he is….

Zhongli opens his mouth to say—what? something comforting? what can he possibly say?—but the moment is interrupted by a flash.

The wine bottle that sits on the bench next to Ajax glows suddenly, brightly, a blinding flash of green and a burst of invigorating wind and—

“Your savior is here! I apologize for the delay in activation, but I’ve never claimed that my magic is reliable!”

Two people materialize out of nowhere between them as the wine bottle vanishes. One is Diluc, bright hair unmistakable as he stumbles forward from the sudden teleportation.

But Zhongli’s world is collapsing to the face that just spoke. A face he’d know anywhere, one that hasn’t changed for thousands of years, that of one of his oldest and dearest friends—

Barbatos?!

Chapter Text

“The wine calls to me! As the god of wine, we are spiritually connected! Young man”—Barbatos gestures dramatically at Ajax—“you are now closer to my being than any other as wine flows through your veins!”

“Venti!” Diluc hisses. “Keep your voice down.”

Ajax frowns, tipsy, but Zhongli doesn’t register anything else as the world narrows entirely to the cheerful face in front of him. “Barbatos…?”

He stands and stumbles forward when the ghost—because he must be a ghost, because how could one of his dearest friends be alive after all this time, after the time he spent searching this land for any trace—turns and his green-blue eyes widen.

“Morax?” The cheer vanishes from his voice in a gust. “It is you.”

“Yes.” Emotion bubbles up in Zhongli’s throat as he beholds the very human-looking boy and an absolute storm of confusion, relief, pain, a thousand things chokes him. “You–you’re alive?”

“Barely.” Barbatos’ familiar smile reappears, soft and tinged with irony, a relic of a lost age Zhongli thought he would never see again. “I sensed your presence before but….” He moves forward and takes Zhongli’s hand. “It really is you, old friend.”

Zhongli just stands there while Barbatos wraps him in a fierce hug. His energy is so faint, it takes effort to see that he is anything more than human. He is a distant star, barely visible behind the brightness of Ajax’s energy. There is no wonder Zhongli couldn’t sense him yesterday. 

“Hug me back, blockhead,” Barbatos mutters.

“What…? How…?” Zhongli can only swallow and return the gesture as emotion threatens to overwhelm him. “I looked for you. I searched….”

“I’ve only been half-manifested for decades.” He leans back and his smile is a sad melody. “I fully gained consciousness last year. You?”

“I-I hibernated for three-hundred years,” Zhongli chokes, uncaring of the other people in the room. “I woke up seven years ago, and I…I thought everyone was gone.”

“I might as well be.” Barbatos releases him. “It takes most of my power just to retain this form.”

Before Zhongli can reply, a very bewildered-looking Diluc speaks up. “Uh, you two know each other?”

“Oh, yeah.” A happier smile takes Barbatos’ face as he gestures to Zhongli. “This is Morax, Rex Lapis, Lord of Geo, and ex-Emperor of Liyue.”

The stoic man eyes him but seems to take it in stride. “You lied to me?” he huffs.

“I am an exorcist from Liyue,” Zhongli says. “Nothing more. Not anymore.”

Diluc folds his arms. “Anything else I should know?”

“Everything we told you was true,” Zhongli says.

Diluc looks at Barbatos. “You could have told me you knew these people, Venti.”

“Well, I wasn’t sure he was Morax ‘til just now.” The god of wine shrugs. “I’d have helped you either way.”

Diluc just scowls.

“I go by Venti these days,” Barbatos says to Zhongli. “I’ve been living as a human since I woke up, and obviously this guy knows who I am. His prayers kind of woke me up.”

Zhongli doesn’t regret planning to turn Diluc in for their freedom, but it is good to know that the vigilante not only didn’t betray them but also is trusted by Barbatos. And seeing as Venti just revealed his identity, trusting Diluc isn’t much of a choice anymore.

“I’m Zhongli,” he says. “And, er, this is Hu Tao and Ajax.”

Ajax is expressionless as he watches the exchange, face still flushed. Hu Tao, on the other hand, is grinning like Lantern Rite has come early.

“Yes, a fine young lady.” Venti matches Hu Tao’s chaotic smile. “We met last night.”

“You didn’t say anything.” Zhongli turns to her.

“I told you I made a friend. How was I supposed to know he was Barbatos?” She shrugs.

Because he gave you a magic wine bottle? he thinks. Mischief glimmers in her eyes and he decides to ignore it in the face of such a world-shattering revelation.

“When did…?” He turns back to Venti, words lost to the storm. “I–I can’t believe….”

“I hate to interrupt this touching reunion,” Diluc says grumpily from where he stands with his arms folded, “but we don’t have all night.”

“Actually”—Venti raises his eyebrows—“we have precisely twenty minutes before Albedo leaves his office. Plenty of time to catch up.”

“Sorry, what’s happening?” Hu Tao asks.

“We’re here to save you!” Venti smiles brightly. “In twenty minutes, we’re going to go steal this blood you need. But my teleport needed to get past the wards around the building. Thanks for carrying it in!”

“You planned for us to be caught?” Zhongli says.

Diluc shrugs. “I know how to disable the wards on the cells but not on the outer doors. They change those all the time, so it’s impossible to keep up. Not anyone can just walk in here. You have to be taken in.”

Zhongli bristles. “How are we supposed to trust you?” It was a dangerous, reckless plan that rubs him the wrong way. He’s used to being the one withholding information. A mastermind does not do well as a pawn.

“You don’t trust me?” Venti blinks at him innocently.

Zhongli pauses with his mouth open, still upset but too shocked at the other god’s appearance to hold on to it. “Fine,” he sighs. “But I have a million questions.”

“Ask away, my friend.”

He thinks for a moment. The alcohol is still swirling strong through Ajax’s brain, loosening Zhongli’s tongue but clouding his mind. “What happened after I went to sleep?”

“There isn’t that much to tell.” Venti flops down on the bench next to Ajax, who blinks at him blearily. “I don’t remember. I’ve always been a non-interventionist. I didn’t notice they were draining my ley lines until it was too late.” He pulls yet another bottle of wine out of his coat and pops the cork. “Now I’m useless.”

“But…you….” Zhongli sits between him and Hu Tao. “You always showed up when it counted.”

He would sleep for years, but when the people of Mondstadt called, their god was always there for them.

Venti takes a long sip of wine. “And you, old friend? The oldest and strongest of us all?”

Zhongli doesn’t reply, feeling all the reignited dilemmas shifting within him once more. He can’t blame Venti for disappearing when he did the same.

“It’s alright. There’s no shame.” Venti sighs. “The world’s gone to shit as you can see. I’ve decided on a new philosophy of ‘no worries.’” He offers the bottle. “Nihilism’s better than feeling all the grief, isn’t it?”

Or alcoholism, Zhongli thinks. He doesn’t accept the bottle and stares at the floor.

“It’s good to see you haven’t changed.” Venti smirks. “Always so moody.”

“He was always this way?” Hu Tao leans forward, hand in chin.

“Oh yes.” Zhongli realizes how unfortunate it is that these two met as Venti’s grin deepens. “ I’m the entertainer, but he was so dramatic. I was always telling him to lighten up and live a little.”

Zhongli wants to say, It’s because I took my position seriously, unlike you, but he’s so relieved to see him that he doesn’t mind the teasing.

“Good to know it’s not just me.” Hu Tao raises an eyebrow. “He’s honestly such a buzzkill sometimes.”

Venti nods and hums in agreement. “My opinion is, why bother being sad when nothing matters? Why try so hard when it all falls apart anyway? Just live your life and have fun.”

“Exactly.” Hu Tao nods seriously. “Don’t give a fuck. Just do whatever.”

Venti giggles. “I like this one.”

He tries to hand Hu Tao the bottle, but Zhongli grabs his wrist and glares. “She’s underage.”

“Hey, does it matter if the world’s gone to shit, Li-Li?” Hu Tao snorts. “A god told me so, so it must be true!”

As he thought, this combination of personalities could grow dangerous. His glare intensifies. “Absolutely not.”

Venti shrugs and offers the bottle to Ajax. “And you? Want some more? The stuff you drank was Dawn Winery’s double-strength Gale Brew. Diluc named it after me.”

Zhongli notices, far too late, just how glazed Ajax’s eyes are. He can imagine that chugging a double-strength brew on top of whatever those drugs were was not a good idea.

Ajax looks like he’s barely following the conversation. He’s clearly much more affected than Zhongli can feel. It’s a soft, comforting lull in his own mind, but Ajax looks like he’s about to pass out, slumped against the wall.

“Barbatos.” He snatches the bottle from Venti. “You haven’t changed a bit, either. Please refrain from poisoning my friends.”

“Poison?” The wind spirit’s eyes glint. “Back in the day, we used to drink entire storerooms out together, don’t you remember?”

“You would drink them out,” Zhongli sighs. “And I would sip a single glass of the finest product. That is the difference between us.”

“Meaning you’re no fun?”

Zhongli looks past Venti’s smirk to Ajax’s eyes closing. His stomach seizes.

“Morax?”

But Zhongli has pushed Venti out of the way to sit next to Ajax. He puts a hand on his forehead. It’s burning up. “Ajax?”

The human doesn’t stir. Zhongli wonders in panic how he didn’t notice. “Ajax,” he says, stronger, shaking him a bit. He doesn’t respond.

“What’s wrong with him?” Hu Tao asks.

“He–he drank too much.” Zhongli holds Ajax upright as he sags onto him. Now that he’s asleep, he can’t feel anything through their connection, just the clog of alcohol at the base of his mind.

Zhongli tries not to panic, but it rises unbidden in his stomach. He’s probably fine. He’s probably fine.

“Barbatos?” He looks to his friend. “Help?”

Venti frowns and reaches a hand across to Ajax’s head where it rests on his shoulder. “He’ll be fine, I can sense it’s not too bad. He just needs to sleep it off.”

Zhongli glares at him and continues to hold Ajax. “You are forbidden from giving my friends any substances.”

“How was I supposed to know he’s a lightweight?” Venti’s smirk returns.

“He’s not weak,” Zhongli finds himself growling, despite the knowledge that Ajax did this to himself.

 “It’s not like I made him drink it.”

Zhongli swallows the sudden surge of protectiveness that has blossomed from seemingly nowhere. He realizes his grip is far too tight and relaxes it to hold a hand in front of Ajax’s mouth. He’s still breathing, slowly and steadily.

But what if he has alcohol poisoning? What if he vomits? What if the pain medication he took earlier is reacting with the wine? How can he trust Venti to say he’s fine?

Zhongli gazes down at the unconscious man slumped against him, and the protectiveness rears its head so much that his vision goes red. Perhaps he was arrogant to think they could mitigate the effects of the bond. Even this tiny incident has flooded his veins with powerful instincts. It is surely exacerbated by hearing about Ajax’s past and realizing just how vulnerable the ex-assassin is behind his mask.

Perhaps the guilt bubbling in Zhongli’s gut is urging him to hold on so tightly. And the vague haze of tipsiness still very much present.

“See, this is why I don’t drink,” Diluc helpfully cuts through the tension. “And we have about three minutes.” He checks his watch. “Unless any more of you want to cause a crisis?”

Venti grins. “I might cause a few more crises.”

It is fitting that the first kin Zhongli meets after years is the one who used to annoy him the most.

“Right,” Diluc says, voice flat. “Well, do you mind if I go over the plan?”

Zhongli tries to get a hold of his emotions. He adjusts Ajax’s head and looks up. “Go ahead.”

“I have to stay here to maintain the ward-counter on the cell door. If it slips for even a second, they’ll know something’s wrong.” Diluc gestures at the door. “Venti can lead you to the lab, where you’ll grab the blood and a couple things I need. Then we’ll teleport out of here.”

“And how do we get out?”

“I’m on good terms with the Knights. I’ll talk to Jean and get you out in the morning.”

“You can talk them into releasing us?”

He shrugs. “You only damaged a few automatons. You’ll tell them you thought it’d be funny to break into government property as a prank. I’ll say you’re my foreign business associates and I was worried when you didn’t show up for a meeting, so I came to see if the Knights knew where you were.”

Again, they seem to have no choice but to trust Diluc. This is his city, Zhongli reasons, he should know the best course of action. Still, Zhongli is uncomfortable not being in charge, not having the direct influence to get them out of this.

“Very well,” he sighs.

“Come on, buddy.” Venti stands and grabs Zhongli’s shoulder. “It’s you and me, just like the good old days.”

“What about me?” Hu Tao’s eyes brighten.

Zhongli looks at Ajax again. He doesn’t want to leave him. Badly enough that his limbs feel like lead, weighed down with anxiety and trepidation.

“You will stay here,” he says. “And watch Ajax.” Hu Tao’s lips start to form a pout, but he continues: “You should take responsibility.”

“I didn’t make him drink it, either,” she whines. But unlike the mischievous god of wind, Zhongli’s adopted sister actually listens to him. After a firm glare, she sighs and says, “Fine.”

They change places so Zhongli can stand up. Ajax is a lot taller than her, so Zhongli sets his head on her lap. “Keep him on his side,” he says. “Make sure he’s still breathing. And if he vom—”

“I know, Li-Li.” This time, Hu Tao’s voice is serious and gentle. “I’ll take care of him.”

He doesn’t doubt her ability to get serious when the situation calls for it, but something causes his hands to linger a few seconds too long. After brushing the hair from Ajax’s eyes, he straightens up and clears his throat. “Right. Let’s go.”

Hu Tao flashes him a comforting smile as Diluc opens the door for them. She has Ajax in the right position, but it does little to soothe Zhongli’s nerves. He keeps his eyes on them until they’re out of sight.

Venti doesn’t speak on the way to the laboratory. Even though they’re on a stealth mission, he swings his arms as they walk. Zhongli is on high alert, but as usual, the other god doesn’t seem to care for danger whatsoever.

As soon as the door to the lab closes, Venti grins.

“Sooo….” he says in the same sing-song tone he used to use hundreds of years ago that meant trouble was coming. “You’re in love?”

Zhongli almost chokes. “W-what?”

“Diluc told me he was helping two star-crossed lovers run away together. Imagine my surprise when I find out it’s my old friend Morax!”

“Star-crossed lovers?” Zhongli frowns at the flowery language.

“Ah.” Venti smirks. “My words, not Diluc’s. He described it with a bit more disgust.”

“Yes, well,” Zhongli mutters. “We lied to get his help. He didn’t trust us until I told him we wanted to run away together.”

“So you’re not in love?”

“No.”

“That’s a shame. It would make a great ballad—two enemies fall in love and risk it all in a war-torn world.”

Zhongli merely grunts in reply as he turns to survey the room. It’s a rather extensive laboratory, cluttered with tables, equipment, and large storage cabinets. The wide windows are mostly shuttered, but some gaps remain, allowing them to see the heavy rain that assaults the building. Hardly any moonlight can reach through to the dim lab. The roar of the storm is louder here.

Zhongli starts to look around for the items Diluc mentioned. But Venti, perched on a lab stool, seems intent on distracting him. “He is your soulmate though?”

Zhongli nearly chokes again. “You can tell?”

“The energy signature is obvious.”

“Is it now?” he mutters.

“C’mon, Morax, it’s me.” The smirk isn’t comforting. “So? How did it happen?”

“We don’t have time for this.” Zhongli turns from him to start opening the nearest cabinet.

Venti’s smile falls. “You’re not happy about it?”

“Why would I be?” Zhongli shuffles through a row of glass jars. “He’s a human.”

Venti shrugs. “I’ve had trysts with humans.”

Zhongli snorts. “This isn’t a tryst. It’s a cosmic accident. And he’s been cursed. It’s all very complicated.” Why in the world is he explaining everything at a time like this? “We have to break his curse or his former employers will murder both us and his family. This demon blood is the only lead we have, and it might not even be what we need. Even if we can somehow break the curse, we have to go into hiding and rescue his family. We’ll probably all end up dead anyway because the Fatui have influence in every corner of the world. And I–I—” He pauses to take a breath before any more can come spilling out. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to keep everyone safe.

Venti is watching him with somber sympathy. “That’s rough.”

Zhongli snorts again. “Yes, it is.” He turns back to the cabinet. “So no, I’m not happy about it.”

Venti is silent for a moment, and Zhongli realizes how harsh his voice sounded. He meets the other god’s eyes again. “I can’t tell you how glad I am to see you. Truly.”

Venti smiles, but now his mirth is gone. “You too.”

“But I—” He sighs, frustrated, and returns to searching.

Venti watches him sort through a filing cabinet. When he speaks, his voice is quiet. “I’ve never seen you so miserable, friend.”

“Yes, well, all our people are dead.” Zhongli finds the papers Diluc told them about—a record of supply orders. “Genocide tends to put a damper on my mood.”

He looks up to see something pass through Venti’s eyes, a flash of dying flame against strong wind. “You’re still trying to find meaning in it all, aren’t you?”

“What the hell does that mean?” Zhongli shoves the record in his hands before moving on to a different cabinet.

Venti laughs, still as melodious as the old days but underlaced with soft darkness. “You really have trouble letting go.”

“Of what?”

“There never was a point to any of it,” he says softly. “The nations we built, the demons we slaughtered, the people we lost. So why hold on? You’re a new person now. Live anew.”

Zhongli pauses, hands clenched on the edge of a table, head bowed. “Is this your new nihilism?” He keeps his voice steady. “The ultimate freedom? Not being bound to anything at all?”

“Maybe,” Venti sighs. “Or it’s just how things are. Why grasp for control when everything is chaos?”

“What are you saying I’m trying to control?” Zhongli looks back at him.

Venti raises an eyebrow. “Hu Tao and Ajax, for one.”

Is Venti really trying to lecture him right now? “Keeping them out of danger is controlling?”

Venti smiles gently, knowingly. “You control yourself more than anything. Your emotions.”

“We’ve only been reunited for half an hour,” Zhongli scoffs. “And you’re back at this again?”

Venti shrugs. “I love interfering.”

“Yes, I know you do.” He crosses his arms and accepts that the mission has been derailed. “So, what then? What are you trying to say?”

“I’m not exactly happy.” Venti looks out the window and rain-struck moonlight dapples his face. “But I’ve moved on. I’ve accepted things as they are. It seems like you haven’t.”

“How could you move on?” Zhongli steps closer. “After everything that happened? After everything they did?”

“Freedom.” Venti says the word slowly, tasting it. “How could I claim to be the god of freedom if I remained attached to the past?”

Zhongli laughs humorlessly. “Take a look in the mirror, Venti.”

He frowns.

“You’ve held on to that face for millennia. How is that moving on?”

“Touché.” Venti smiles weakly. “But I no longer mourn him.”

“They took everything from us.” Zhongli leans on the lab table. “Our friends, our servants, my—”  What’s the word for Azhdaha? What word could be adequate to describe the one he had committed to love forever? “Husband. My entire family. How am I not supposed to mourn?”

Venti opens his mouth, but Zhongli barrels on: “How am I supposed to accept my new life when I’ve now been bound to someone who committed those very crimes?”

Venti’s eyes tighten. “Ajax…?”

“Yes, I’m sure Diluc told you he’s a Harbinger. And he—” Zhongli pauses. “He took Xiao and Ganyu.”

Flickers of something long dead pass through Venti’s eyes before he looks down. “Xiao is alive?”

“Yes, and now in prison because of Ajax.”

“Ah.” Venti’s gaze remains on the floor. “I see.”

“So, yes, I’m unhappy.” Zhongli starts to pace. Venti has always been good at stirring him up, and now all the anxiety and guilt and despair is pulsing erratically through his veins. Confusing, compounding, overwhelming—the stabbing protectiveness and shame he feels towards Ajax crashing with the injustice and anger he still harbors towards the human.

“It’s not enough for me to lose everything,” he says heavily. “Now my soulmate is….”

A human. A murderer. A victim, yes, but—

“It’s not his fault.” Zhongli stops and grips the back of a stool. “I know it’s not his fault. I have been unfair to him. But I just don’t…deserve this….”

He trails off, staring down. That’s what he’s stuck on, isn’t it? Even after everything, the universe won’t let him live in peace. He was a god for millennia, and this helplessness feels so foreign. 

No control over his own fate. A mockery made of his free will.

Being commanded by the universe to love an enemy after his dearest ones were stolen. How can he accept his soulmate when it all feels like a tragic farce designed to torture him?

And the bitter truth underneath it all: the aching realization that he does deserve this. He let everyone die. He was supposed to protect them, and his ignorance and blindness left room for the humans to turn on them. He is unworthy of happiness.

And Ajax was sent to him by the universe so that he will never forget his sins.

“You know,” Venti says quietly, “you have more choice in your feelings than you think.” Zhongli starts to scoff, but he continues, “You can choose to hold on to anger, or you can choose to let go.”

Zhongli shakes his head. “Barbatos…."

“Pain comes from within. Not without.” Venti’s soft voice mixes with the rain and stings like a drop of cold water. “Things happen to us, but we can control how we react to them. We create pain in our own minds.”

“What…do you mean?” he says tiredly.

Venti smiles. “Suffering is caused by trying to maintain control. It’s regret of the past and fear of the future. Things happen how they happen, and we have no control in the end. If you accept that you have no control, if you stop trying to hold on to something that doesn’t exist, you’ll stop hurting yourself.”

Something ancient rings in his words, a philosophy that Morax and the god of wisdom had discussed at length thousands of years ago. He was intrigued by her philosophy and some of his people adopted it, but it was warped in his culture by the centuries until it had taken a different shape. Different flavors between Sumeru and Liyue. These days, he hardly remembers her original point.

Now the god of Mondstadt is spouting that same wisdom as if it’s his own idea.

“I’m…aware,” Zhongli sighs. He is holding on to the past, he is desperately grasping for control, but how can he not?

“So why hold on?” Venti leans forward. “The only thing you can control is your own mind.”

“It’s not as if I want to be like this,” Zhongli mutters. “I…I haven’t been myself these seven years.” I lost everything, including myself. I lost the empathy and compassion I built over millennia. I only have enough kindness to spare for one person.

Venti’s eyes are soft as he seems to see the darker thoughts lying under his words. “It’s not your fault, you know.”

Zhongli shakes his head, grips the stool so hard the wood cracks. That is the one thing he can’t stand to hear.

“Isn’t it?” His voice is hard like steel cooled too quickly. Ready to shatter. “I let them die. This….” This is merely karma.

Venti—the bastard—laughs. “So that’s it!”

Zhongli glares at his old friend’s display of insensitivity.

“You’re determined to torture yourself,” the bard chuckles. “You’re punishing yourself, is that it?”

“No,” he says.

“Oh dear, you were always stupid about this kind of thing, weren’t you?” His eyes shine with equal parts humor and compassion. “Can’t you try to let yourself move on?”

Zhongli looks away, frustrated that Venti has turned his despair into exasperation. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Venti giggles and finally hops off the stool to plant himself in front of Zhongli. “The world has moved on, Morax. You don’t owe the past anything.”

But he does. He owes so much to Azhdaha’s memory. So much that he was terrified. So much that he repressed the memory until it shriveled into a dark, poisonous scar on his heart.

He doesn’t reply.

“There’s hope everywhere,” Venti continues. “You just have to look up and see it.”

“And what,” Zhongli says wearily, “would ‘hope’ look like?”

“A single star in the void of the night sky. A single choice that changes everything.”

“That’s vague,” he sighs.

“Hey, I don’t have all the answers.” Venti pats his arm. “I just…can’t stand to see you like this.”

“Thank you,” Zhongli sighs, both annoyed and serious. “You really haven’t changed, you know.”

“I’m still wise and mysterious?” The other god smirks.

“No, you’re still irritating and dramatic.” He pulls away from the hand on his arm and turns back to the cabinet. “Please stay out of my personal life.”

“We both know you don’t mean that.”

Zhongli ignores him. “Copy that record of supply orders for Diluc. I’m going to find the blood.”

For once, his old friend seems to respect that he’s done with the conversation. He tries to breathe once Venti’s attention is finally off him. Waves of conflicting emotions continue to crash over him and only pure stubbornness keeps them at bay.

Venti is right about everything, of course. You’re determined to torture yourself. It doesn’t make him feel better, to acknowledge the pain he’s causing himself and others. It feels horrible, and he’d much rather run from the truth.

Although…he’s so tired of running, it might just catch up to him this time.

The vial of demon blood is inconspicuously stored in a chest alongside other strange liquids. It’s dark, almost black, and gives off a sinister energy. Zhongli finds a spare vial and transfers a couple drops, hopefully just enough that the chief alchemist won’t notice.

With the precious prize that took so much effort to obtain safely corked and stored in his pocket, Zhongli turns back to Venti. The bard has jotted down notes of everything Diluc instructed them to copy. Zhongli wonders what in the world Diluc wants with this information, but it’s an easy enough payment to give in exchange for something that could save their lives.

Before they leave, Zhongli looks at him. “Will you…come with us?” he asks, already knowing the answer. “Our kind should stick together.”

“I can’t.” Venti’s smile is soft and ironic. “I’ve really tried, you know, to give up on this city. To give up on my people. But when I heard Diluc’s prayer…it’s like hope has its hook in me, I’ll just get pulled back again and again. No matter how much I want to give up. No matter how useless I actually am in this state…I can’t give up on Mondstadt.”

Zhongli won’t pretend it doesn’t sting to be reunited and separated so quickly. But he understands. “I thought your new philosophy was ‘no worries’?” he teases lightly.

“Nah.” Venti’s eyes carry centuries of stories, refreshed and accepted. “I’m too stupid to quit. The past is gone but there might be a future with a place for us. And that’s enough for me to fight.”

So even the non-interventionist has decided to stand and fight.

“And you, Morax?” Venti asks. “What will you do after he’s free?”

He thinks of Hu Tao and Ajax, back in the cell. Her earnest, determined face and his soft, sleeping one. Run and hide doesn’t feel like the right answer anymore. “I don’t know.”

“My power is practically gone, but if you speak to the wind earnestly enough, I may just hear.” Venti’s smile shifts to something knowing, something fresh like a strong breeze. “Any time you need help.”

“Thank you.” Zhongli manages to return a weak smile.

Once they’ve determined that everything is put back exactly the way they found it, the two sneak back to the cell block.

“Thank the gods,” Diluc grumbles once they’re back inside and he can drop the ward. “What took you so long?”

Neither of them answer. Venti is handing him the notes with a triumphant smile and Zhongli is rushing back to Ajax. The low level of panic that accompanied him the whole time is alleviated at the sight of his companions right where he left them.

“He’s alright,” Hu Tao says when Zhongli crouches next to them to check if Ajax is breathing. “Did you find it?”

“Yes.” He pulls the vial from his pocket. “The first step is complete.”

She sighs in relief. “Now what?”

“Now we analyze its alchemical properties and try to find a cure.” He stands back up and turns to Diluc. “I’d like to thank you.”

“It was an equal exchange.” The vigilante shrugs. “We have to go, but I still owe you a rescue. I’ll get you out in the morning, I swear.”

Zhongli nods, appreciating the contractual nature of his words. Then he turns to Venti and is lost for what to say.

The bard’s eyes remain somber after their talk. “Good luck. You’re a blockhead left to your own devices, so thank the gods you’re in great hands with Master Hu.” He throws a wink her way and she giggles. “I’m sure I’ll see you again soon, old friend.” A soft smile and then he’s grabbing Diluc’s arm, and they’re gone with a flash that leaves a lingering breeze.

Zhongli turns back to his companions, feeling abruptly empty.

“Here.” Hu Tao lifts Ajax’s head and scoots away. “Sit down.”

His face reddens. “You can keep—”

“Ah, but you’re the responsible one, aren’t you?” She smirks. “You should watch him.”

He sighs but sits down where she’s indicating and rearranges Ajax so that his head is resting on his lap. The ex-assassin is still dead to the world as Zhongli adjusts his limbs to a hopefully comfortable position.

“That’s better.” Hu Tao settles next to him. “He was so heavy.”

Zhongli snorts at her obviously fake excuse. But she doesn’t have to make excuses to get him to take care of Ajax; he very much wants to.

Hu Tao links their arms and puts her head on his shoulder, snuggling up with a yawn. It is the middle of the night, and after all that excitement, even the adeptus is feeling winded.

It is suddenly, overwhelmingly peaceful to have two people lying on him, one arm claimed by Hu Tao and the other resting on Ajax’s shoulder. What a strange feeling. After Venti blew through and left him raw, he feels quite vulnerable at the comfort.

“Are you okay?” Hu Tao asks quietly after a moment.

He considers. “No.”

“I’m sorry.” Her voice is small. “I really didn’t know he was Barbatos.”

“It’s okay,” he says. “Seeing him has…upset me.”

“Of course it has.”

“But I….” He sighs. “Never mind. Get some sleep. I’ll tell you later.”

“Okay,” she yawns, clearly too sleepy to keep up a conversation.

Long after Zhongli is the only one awake, things start to settle in his chest. He looks down at Ajax, soft, relaxed, asleep in his lap.

A single star. A single choice.

His hope is dead and gone. He is determined to be unhappy. But maybe…an apology is one choice he can make.

Chapter Text

Ajax stares at the floor as uncomfortable silence stirs through the funeral parlor’s sitting room like a shifting autumn breeze.

Across from him, Zhongli’s gaze is affixed to the tiny vial of blood in his hands as they sit on his lap. But his eyes are lost, not focused on analyzing the precious thing he holds. Ajax is wishing Hu Tao hadn’t left.

“Well, as long as we’re not going into hiding immediately, I should check out a client request or two,” Hu Tao said before she exited the parlor five minutes ago.

Zhongli let her go with a promise to be careful, and now the two adults sit alone. Ajax is trying not to feel anxious at Zhongli’s extended silence; he’s hardly spoken a word since the Knights released them and they took the train back here.

And he’s avoided Ajax’s eyes the whole time.

He’s angry is the only logic Ajax can find. Maybe seeing Ajax use adeptal magic affected him more than he said. Or maybe he’s angry at Ajax’s reckless downing of the wine, something Ajax deeply regrets.

The entire sequence of events that night makes him want to melt into shadow and never been seen again. He never meant to tell his new allies his entire past. He never meant to lose control in front of them, display emotion, give any indication of the thoughts that lie beneath. And—though this matters the least—passing out like that was mortifying.

He barely remembers what happened. Another god showed up, and all Ajax did was pass out. Helpless and useless while everyone else helped to solve his problem.

Waking up with a raging hangover, cradled in Zhongli’s lap, was certainly an interesting experience. Bewilderingly, the adeptus looked relieved and worried and wouldn’t let go of him for a long time. Ajax’s head was in so much pain that he couldn’t talk and could only sip the water that Zhongli tried to pour down his throat.

Maybe Zhongli is angry at him for needing to be helped. Ajax has tried to be an easygoing chameleon, quiet and helpful in the background. Passing out like an idiot must have been annoying.

But surely if he were angry, Ajax would be able to feel it? They feel each other’s strong emotions, do they not?

He looks up at Zhongli, who is staring pensively at the vial in his hands, and clears his throat. He’s not usually confrontational, but the silence between them is starting to affect his ability to focus, and if his focus wavers, one wrong step could kill his family. He needs to say something.

That ends up being, “I’m sorry.”

Zhongli looks up and frowns. “What?”

“I’m sorry for acting reckless.” Ajax turns his gaze away. “I put us both in danger.”

“What are you talking about?”

He looks back at the genuine confusion in Zhongli’s voice. “I shouldn’t have drank that wine.”

Since the beginning, the adeptus has only ever looked at him with hostility or critical coldness. But now his eyes are bizarrely soft. “I don’t think it’s anything to apologize for.”

“What?” It’s Ajax’s turn to frown. “Why?”

“It was an accident.” Zhongli’s eyes return to the vial, conflicted. “I have noticed you tend to be reckless, and I certainly would appreciate some more forethought in the future. But….” He cuts himself off with a clench of his jaw.

“Then why—” Ajax throws non-confrontation to the wind. “Why are you angry?”

Zhongli blinks at him. “I’m not angry.”

“You’ve been ignoring me.” Ajax wishes he could take the words back as soon as they leave his mouth. Childish, stupid words. They aren’t even friends, so why should it matter?

Zhongli’s face transforms into the last emotion Ajax would expect. Faint red on his cheeks, brow furrowed. “I…feel ashamed.”

Ajax just stares at him dumbly.

The exorcist clears his throat and shifts in his seat. “I have been rude to you. I have let…certain emotions cloud my judgement.”

Is he talking about Ajax spilling his entire past? He feels bad for judging him before hearing the whole story? “My past isn’t an excuse,” Ajax mutters. “I get that I make you uncomfortable. It’s fine.”

“Rudeness is never justified.” Zhongli keeps his eyes on the floor. “I–I used to be a more forgiving person. I’ve let anger and hate make me bitter, and I would like to apologize for taking it out on you.”

Ajax is nearly stunned into silence. He had started to believe they would keep up this dance of hostility and necessity for the rest of time.

“Thank you,” he finally manages. “We don’t have to be friends, but it would be…productive if you didn’t hate me.”

“I don’t hate you.” Zhongli looks up, and his eyes are sincere. “I truly don’t.”

Ajax can’t stop himself from muttering, “It sure feels like it.”

“I don’t wish to make you feel that way,” Zhongli says. “It’s not personal. I hate the system that you were a part of, but I understand that your participation wasn’t voluntary.”

It’s not personal isn’t very comforting.

“I hate the Fatui for doing this to you.” Zhongli’s voice turns hard. “For what they’ve made you do.”

Ah, so you still think I’m a twisted monster?

Ajax didn’t think it could hurt so much. Plenty of people—victims—have shouted similar things explicitly. Ganyu looked into his eyes and told him to be ashamed. But never has the implication that someone is disgusted by him cut so deeply.

Maybe soulmates really are a bad thing, if Zhongli has this power over him.

“I don’t want your pity.” Ajax folds his arms as hurt seizes his chest. “And I don’t want excuses or forgiveness. I just want a productive relationship.” Because if you say any more of your real feelings….

“Yes, I will work on that,” Zhongli says, apparently oblivious. “I would also like a productive relationship.”

“Good, then.” Ajax stares out the window.

But Zhongli isn’t done. “Your family, especially, are victims. I apologize for any callous statements I’ve made. I truly don’t want the Fatui to hurt them—or any human to suffer.”

Right, statements like I have no pity for human scum. Yes, Ajax would appreciate not hearing things like that anymore.

“Thank you,” Ajax says quietly.

“I have let my past make me say hateful things,” Zhongli continues. “I will be mindful about what I say from now on.”

But it won’t change how you really feel, will it? Ajax thinks. You do hate humans. I do make you uncomfortable. And as long as that’s the case, this whole affair will not be a happy one.

He tries to remind himself that this is good news. That impossibly Zhongli has warmed to him. Who knew that acting like a pathetic mess and spilling his entire past was the trick to winning him over?

They don’t have to be friends. They don’t have to be anything. Zhongli doesn’t hate him. That’s enough.

That’s enough.

“I appreciate it.” Ajax’s voice comes out colder than he intended and he curses internally. Now is not the time to act avoidant, when things are starting to get better!

Zhongli looks for a second like he wants to say more, like he knows Ajax isn’t happy, like he wants to make it better. But all that comes out of his mouth is: “How are you feeling, by the way? Have you recovered? From your delusion? And the hangover?”

“Can’t you feel how I’m feeling?”

“More or less.” Zhongli’s face, usually indifferent, is now softly concerned. “I feel it now. You seem to be in a low level of pain.”

“That’s just the usual.” Ajax shrugs.

“Do you need another dose of your medication?”

Is this his way of being friendly? Ajax said he didn’t want pity. “Maybe. But I should ration. I don’t want to run out.” He hasn’t given a thought to what happens when he inevitably does.

“I don’t want to—” Zhongli pauses, frowning. “Try to…control you. But for everyone’s safety, I think you should find a way to fight without using magic.”

“Yeah,” Ajax mutters, refraining from adding obviously. “But I have to fight sometimes.”

Zhongli doesn’t look happy at that, but he doesn’t argue.

“Well, the good news is we have the blood. We can extrapolate its properties, and that should give us a good idea of how to remove the curse. Do you know much about alchemy?”

“I’m a fighter, not a scientist.” Ajax’s mouth twitches up.

“Would you like to learn? It might be helpful.”

It would be helpful. And he senses something deeper in Zhongli’s offer—something like reconciliation. “Sure.”

Zhongli’s smile as he stands is real, wide and fond, and Ajax isn’t sure this attitude change is actually helpful because being smiled at like that is extremely distracting.

The two of them make their way to the alchemy table in the backroom and Zhongli holds up the vial to the candlelight. Ajax feels it again—that strange, magnetic pull towards the blood. It’s come off and on in waves since it came into his presence. Zhongli and Hu Tao both said it felt dark and poisonous, but to him, it feels innocuous and draws his curiosity.

They stand around the alchemy table, and Zhongli carefully extracts a microscopic speck of blood from the vial with a metal stirrer. Ajax has no idea how they can get anything from such a small sample, but Zhongli seems confident.

“Everything in the material world is derived from the seven elements.” The adeptus drops the blood into a small bowl of what looks like water. “You have studied magic, have you not?”

“Uh.” Ajax tries to think. “Practically, a bit, I guess.” He doesn’t know much more than how to manipulate the elements as weapons.

Zhongli looks amused. “I will assume an elementary level of education, then.”

Ajax opens his mouth to refute, but he can’t exactly deny that he knows next to nothing.

Zhongli stirs the water and soon the drop of blood has blended with it. “You have elemental sight, so you should be able to sense the fundamental properties of this, at least to some degree.”

Ajax focuses on the vial that still has a couple drops. There’s such a small amount that normally he could barely sense it, but he can still feel that magnetic pull. Its…properties? He picks it up and gazes into the dark substance and can’t sense anything but—ah!—the back of his neck abruptly throbs, and he winces.

“Ajax?”

He sets it back down quickly as his neck continues to pulse. “It’s—ah—reacting? With my mark?”

“Hm.” Zhongli surveys him. “I didn’t consider that it might be dangerous for you to be around this blood.”

“Doesn’t that mean that this is what we’re looking for?”

“Yes, it’s a good sign.” He frowns. “But I don’t want to use you as a test subject.”

“I’m used to it,” Ajax laughs weakly. “We’ll have to experiment on me eventually, right?”

Zhongli hums again, looking concerned. “For now, perhaps you should step back and watch me?”

“Okay.” Ajax agrees that messing around with demon blood is certainly a bad idea. He sits on the chair in the corner while Zhongli gets out an array of crystals and dips them each in the water mixture.

“It is first helpful to see what kind of materials react with it,” Zhongli starts to explain. “It’s a crude but effective first step to determining something’s properties.”

To Ajax, it looks like nothing’s happening, but Zhongli nods and jots down notes as he works.

“So, like, everything in the world is made of the same stuff, right?” Ajax winces at the ineloquence of the question as soon as it leaves his mouth.

“You could say that.” Zhongli’s eyes are fixed on the alchemy table. “Essentially, anything can be transmuted into anything else. The basic structure of elemental energy cannot be broken down further, but the expressions of its various permutations are practically infinite. Although only a limited number are stable enough to exist for long. For example, what you call adeptal energy, what some may call qi, feeds my species and runs through the ley lines of the entire world. It is a molecule very close to pure elemental energy, poisonous to most animals, and is in fact one of the most unstable—”

Ajax regrets not seeking further education as Zhongli continues to lecture him. As a teacher, Scaramouche only ever yelled at him to train harder. Pulcinella was polite but not very helpful. Dottore rambled on about science and magic constantly, but Ajax has always tried to forget the time he spent with that man. He could’ve learned a lot listening to him, but it was hard to pay attention while being used as a test subject.

“—which, naturally, makes it a potent energy source, much like—”

Ajax finds that he has trouble paying attention to Zhongli talk for a very different reason. As the adeptus continues to experiment and explain what he’s doing, Ajax gets lost in a comfortable lull of listening to his deep, silky voice.

This informal lecture is a convenient excuse to stare at him. Ajax enjoys watching Zhongli work. He has removed his coat, vest, and tie in case something explodes and rolled up his sleeves. It’s a casual, relaxed air that he hasn’t displayed before.

They’ve had separate hotel rooms, and even when Ajax was sleeping on Wangsheng’s couch, Zhongli would emerge from his room fully clothed and groomed, putting on formal airs while Hu Tao stumbled around in pajamas.

He grew up thinking Morax was a dragon, but other than his eyes occasionally glowing, Zhongli looks like any other human. Well, an unusually perfect human with a flawless body and the ability to rip metal apart with his bare hands. It’s nice to see him acting like a normal person, makes him much more relatable.

Ajax knows he technically spent a whole night sleeping on Zhongli’s lap, but he can’t remember it. Now, he’s clearly started to let his guard down—voice rambling, golden eyes narrowed in concentration—and Ajax can’t help but look for his soulmate mark. It’s not visible. Ajax wonders if it’s in the same place as his….

“Ajax?”

He blinks to see Zhongli frowning at him.

“Are you listening to me?”

“Y-yes,” he stammers.

“I was saying I think we may be able to isolate the venatus machina from the structure of the inner double-binding attachment nodes.”

Ajax stares blankly, and Zhongli sighs. “The tracking function. We might be able to temporarily block the connection.”

“Oh, that’s great!”

“Yes, it is excellent news.” Zhongli lifts a strip of litmus paper and stares at it. “It will take me a while, but theoretically, it can be done.”

“How long is a while?”

He grips the edge of the table and shakes his head. “There’s no way to know. I’ve never attempted anything like this before. Frankly, with our resources, it may be impossible to complete in a timely manner.”

“Could we get help?” Ajax suggests. 

“That would be wise.” Zhongli stares down, eyes narrowed. “The question is who to trust.”

The first thing Ajax thinks of is the Fatui’s limitless resources. The various research and development departments dealing with all sorts of products and services. Dottore and his army of scientists. Going right to the source would be best. But kidnapping someone is sure to set off alarms.

“There are alchemists everywhere,” Zhongli says. “But we need an expert who could be discreet…. Hu Tao’s friends could have connections with alchemists who deal in the underground.”

“But they’d charge a lot,” Ajax says. He’s quite familiar with underground dealers and their shady ways. “And they might recognize me. We can’t trust criminals.”

Zhongli’s eyes narrow in thought as he stares down at the alchemy table. “How much longer can we count on the Fatui to not check in on you?”

Ajax sits back and crosses his arms. “Two weeks? But I’ve already been gone for a while. We’re definitely running out of time.” He hesitates before continuing, “I feel like we should do something to buy more time.”

“If we can at least first mask the tracker, we should be able to fake your death. That will give us some more time to remove the curse.”

“But even that might take a while,” Ajax says. “I…was thinking…maybe I should contact them.”

“What?” Zhongli looks up with a frown.

“Tell them you caught wind of me and have been on the run and I’ve been tracking you across the world. That should buy us time if they know I’m chasing you.”

Ajax technically hasn’t gone AWOL yet. He's already been gone a suspicious amount of time, though. Telling Pierro he needs more time may stave off suspicion.

“Hm.” Zhongli nods. “Yes, then they wouldn’t question your movements. We could go anywhere and they wouldn’t get suspicious. But would they try to send back up?”

That’s the problem. Ajax hesitates. “They shouldn’t. They want to keep this quiet.”

Zhongli nods more strongly. “Good. Then when we finally do fake your death, it will be more believable that you’ve been hunting me, caught up, and then I killed you.”

Ajax sighs. “At least I know a lot about the Fatui’s tactics. Once we’re free, it should be easier to stay off their radar.”

“We’ll have to leave Wangsheng for good this time.” A soft trickle of sadness drifts over their connection, although Zhongli’s face remains stoic. Before Ajax can address it, he clears his throat. “If we can go anywhere in the world, it widens our range.”

“The Akademiya is full of starving students who are desperate for funding,” Ajax realizes out loud. “A little money would go a long way with them.”

“Yes, that’s a good idea.” Zhongli’s eyes light up, which sends a jolt through Ajax’s stomach. “There are plenty of alchemists at the Akademiya and they certainly have more integrity than criminals.”

“We could hire a student, take them somewhere remote, and have them help us. Offer them money and whatever else they need,” Ajax muses.

“Money and the prospect of fascinating research—that should buy their discretion. Yes…an excellent idea.”

Zhongli looks up at Ajax and they hold each other’s gaze for a moment. It’s still jarring to see friendliness and hope in that sea of gold. To be talking normally like this, exchanging ideas. Zhongli being nice is stirring up all sorts of emotions that—

The door squeaking open interrupts them, and Hu Tao’s head peeks inside. “I’m back! What’re you two up to?”

“We may have a plan.” Zhongli turns to her. “We’re going to Sumeru.”

“Sumeru?” She blinks, eyes gleaming. “What’s there?”

After filling in Hu Tao and a lengthy discussion of the practical details, a sudden, deep silence falls over the three of them. It feels very abruptly real: they’re leaving Wangsheng and setting off west. They finally have a clue that leads them forward. Freedom and a new life lie ahead.

They pack in contemplative silence. Ajax has never had many valuable possessions, so he can only imagine how painful it is to pick only a few to put into their light luggage. Zhongli must be keeping a tight lid on his emotions, as Ajax doesn’t feel anything strong from him during the process.

It feels like he’s interrupting something private as the two exorcists close the door to the funeral parlor.

“Are you certain about this, Hu Tao?” Zhongli asks quietly. “We can never go back.”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” Her smile is soft and sad, flickers that adorn burning determination. “We have each other, and that’s all we need.”

Zhongli matches her smile.

They look at the door together, its ancient, dark wood and the centuries of memories that dwell behind. Ajax hangs back, watching his companions say goodbye to the home he is ripping them from.

Then Hu Tao claps her hands together and turns from it. “New beginnings are no reason to mourn.”

Ajax and Zhongli both nod, then the three of them make their way down the street, towards the train station and away from the past. It does feel like a new beginning, with nowhere safe to hide and everything at stake.

And if there’s a spring in his step from knowing that Zhongli doesn’t hate him and he may be free soon…well, Ajax hasn’t felt hope in years, so he allows himself to bask in the optimism dawning in his chest.

Chapter Text

“I might be able to do it.”

The student crinkles their nose as they scan Zhongli’s notes. Their eyes have a deadness to rival Ajax’s, adorned with deep, dark bags that say they haven’t slept in years. Since meeting them, Ajax has realized that they aren’t about to collapse at any moment; it’s just how they look.

The three of them sit with the student in a private booth of a tavern on the outskirts of Port Ormos. They decided against heading for Sumeru City. Despite the plethora of alchemists there, it seemed safer to stick to the smaller, more lawless port city. Ajax is all too familiar with the Fatui’s friendliness with the Akademiya. The Eremites here are too busy with their own shady dealings to question them and the Akademiya doesn’t have a large presence. The capital would be full of watchful eyes.

After a bit of asking around, they found this particular Spantamad student collapsed at the booth where they’re now sitting. Before they could call a healer, the student sat up, looking like death itself but alive. Ajax ordered them some food and water anyway, and the grateful student agreed to talk.

Rayyan, they introduced themselves as through a mouth full of mint bean soup. They had not collapsed from overwork, they claimed, they were just taking a nap. It was totally normal to pass out in a tavern before ordering lunch. Very common amongst veteran Akademiya students. Only young amateurs lack stamina and actually collapse. As a bio-alchemist, they know the precise levels of energy their body needs to function.

Ajax and the others watched with concern as Rayyan scarfed down the food they ordered and chugged coffee like it was water. Once they were revitalized, Zhongli brought up their offer.

“This is…fascinating. But I’m on the fifth year of my thesis.” Rayyan looks up from the notes. “I don’t know if I have the time for a side project.”

“We’ll pay well,” Ajax says. “We’ll provide lodging, food, even help with your research while you help us. All we ask for is discretion.”

The bolt of light that goes through their eyes would be comical if he didn’t know that they are literally a starving student. 

“Food…? And research…?” Then they hesitate, eyes torn. “I don’t think the matra would like this.”

“I am familiar with the Akademiya’s sins,” Zhongli says. “Helping us wouldn’t violate your institution’s rules.”

“Have you read the recent guidelines? We’re not allowed to take outside jobs.” Rayyan swallows. “We’re not allowed to support ourselves in any way. They say it violates academic integrity if our focus isn’t wholly on our research.”

“What.” Hu Tao frowns. “How are you supposed to feed yourselves?”

“By the grace of the Akademiya,” they say weakly. “Everything is about funding. You have to perform well, consistently score in the top ten percent of your class, regularly publish research—or you don’t get funding and you don’t get to eat.”

“What? ” Hu Tao says. “What happens to the students who don’t perform well?”

Rayyan laughs nervously. “They try to survive. Dropping out isn’t possible. If you drop out or get expelled, you’re put on a blacklist and no one will hire you.” In their exhausted eyes blooms a familiar jadedness. “In this country, if you want to have any life worth having, you have to enter the Akademiya. If you don’t have an education, all you can do is farm or work in a factory and everyone looks down on those people.”

Looks down on might be an understatement. As far as Ajax is aware, it’s basically a caste system.

“I’d love to help you, but I can’t risk breaking any rules,” Rayyan says. “I have to graduate before I’m 30 or–or….” They trail off ominously. 

“This isn’t technically breaking any rules,” Ajax says after a heavy pause. “It’s not a job, we’ll just treat you to a vacation while you happen to help us.”

Their smile is weak as they sip from yet another cup of coffee. “The matra don’t care about wording. I can’t exchange knowledge for any kind of money or benefits. And I can’t produce knowledge that’s not for my approved research.”

“Why?” Hu Tao asks.

“We work for the Akademiya. Our research belongs to them. They can’t regulate knowledge that’s produced outside of our official studies.”

“Why are they so obsessed with regulating knowledge?” Hu Tao frowns.

“For profit,” the student laughs.

“Knowledge…for profit?”

“Where do you think the textbooks used at your own Liyue University come from?” Rayyan’s eyes darken. “The Akademiya controls the production and distribution of knowledge across all of Teyvat. It’s a very profitable market. Our country was founded on seeking truth for truth’s sake, but now research is nothing more than fuel for greed. It’s the same anywhere in the world. In Snezhnaya, force is power. In Liyue, money is power. And here, knowledge is power.”

“You’re saying…knowledge is like a currency?” Hu Tao asks.

“Everything in this world comes at a price, right? The customers pay mora for knowledge. And we students pay with our time and energy.” Their hands tighten around the coffee cup. “We’re nothing more than factory workers in the end. We produce knowledge, and then they sell it. There’s no life to be had outside academia, and only the best students graduate and get enough money to live comfortably, so we have no choice but to work ourselves to death to produce the research that the Akademiya controls and sells.”

After a tense, thoughtful pause, panic lights up their eyes and they stick their head outside the booth, swinging it wildly to look for fellow students or Akademiya officials. Then they collapse back into the booth with the relief of dodging death itself. “I shouldn’t talk like this in public.”

“That’s….” Hu Tao’s eyes are large and horrified. “Sumeru seems like such a peaceful place, but it’s not too different from Liyue, huh? You make the students sound just like our miners.”

“Raw materials, medicine, food, technology—in the end, knowledge is just another thing we can’t live without. And anything with value will end up being exploited for profit.” The student stares into their coffee as if answers swim in its brown depths.

“It didn’t used to be this way.” Zhongli’s eyes are narrowed as he stares at the table. “Admonition, ingenuity, praxis…the founding principles of the Akademiya had nothing to do with greed or profit. Research was the pursuit of truth itself and required a clear, selfless mind. There is no wisdom to be found in producing knowledge for the sake of abusing it.”

“Where have you been the past three-hundred years?” Rayyan laughs. “Our founding principles died with our god.”

Ajax shifts uncomfortably in his seat while trying to think of something to rescue the conversation. Like so many others, this student seems completely jaded. But it’s not surprising; academia is just another industry that turns people into batteries.

“Why did you enter the Akademiya?” he finally asks.

“I love alchemy,” they say weakly. “I truly do. I don’t want money or fame or anything. In the beginning, I thought maybe...maybe I could....”

“Help people?” he offers. “Make people’s lives better?”

Rayyan laughs. “It sounds stupid now, but yes.”

“What made you realize it was all a scam?”

“I used to think we really were improving the world with our research. I thought being a member of the Akademiya was noble. But then I—” Their expression turns nervous. “I snuck into the restricted section a few years ago. I wanted to do research on artificial life and didn’t understand why it was banned. So I went to read the old papers. And I found other things in there, all sorts of useful things that were banned and–and…worse things.” They shiver. “Everything they tell us is a lie.”

Ajax sees it, like he saw the hestiation in Ganyu’s eyes. Rayyan wants to help. It will only take a little prodding.

“Our lives are at stake,” he says. “You can make a difference if you help us.”

They didn’t give them all the details about the curse. Only that Ajax had been cursed and the nature of the demon. But it isn’t a stretch for the student to deduce that whoever did this to him didn’t have his safety in mind.

Guilt and hope fight a war in their eyes before they look down and swallow. “I’ll get caught.”

“You won’t,” Ajax says. “We’ll make sure of it.”

“I…can’t.”

“I know what it’s like to work for people who treat you like a tool.” His voice turns quiet, dead and serious. “I’ve done a lot of bad things because I didn’t think I had a choice but to do what they said. But there’s always a way to work around the edges. There’s a way to stay safe and do the right thing.”

Rayyan looks back at him. “Who are you?”

Ajax glances at the others. Zhongli is frowning but nods assent. After everything the student has admitted to them, it’s only fair they return the favor.

“I…was a member of the Fatui,” he says. “They cursed me. I’m trying to leave that life.”

A flash of something—wonder? fear?—crosses their expression. “Fatui? And you’re trying to…?” They laugh a little. “How can you be that brave?”

Ajax hesitates. Telling them I’m not brave, I don’t have a choice works against his narrative. So he offers a version of the truth.

“I had given in completely,” he admits. “I thought I would never be free. I was just trying to survive, like you. But then….” He looks at Zhongli again, at those intense golden eyes that watch him. “Sometimes the universe gives you a chance. Sometimes, there’s a moment where you can make a choice. Where you can change everything.”

It is true. On that fateful night in his bedroom, as much as Zhongli insisted they didn’t have a choice, they did. Ajax chose to ask for help. Zhongli chose to listen.

They both thought they had no capacity for mercy, but when things mattered the most, they chose to show it.

Zhongli doesn’t break their eye contact. His gaze is dark and thoughtful.

“It isn’t about bravery,” Ajax says quietly. “It’s about recognizing when that chance comes.”

When he looks back at Rayyan, he knows he’s convinced them. A new determination appears in the hand clenched around their coffee.

“Absolutely no one can know,” they say.

“We’ll find a place to stay in the middle of nowhere and work there,” Zhongli says.

They nod, still nervous but warming up. “Okay.... I did come to Port Ormos for a change of scenery to find inspiration. I can tell my advisor that I’m taking a retreat to wholly immerse myself in finishing my methods section. Getting away from everything to focus.”

“Thank you so much!” Hu Tao exclaims and takes their hands across the table, shaking them enthusiastically. “You’re literally saving us!”

Their face reddens. “I-I plan to take full advantage of your hospitality on this vacation.”

“Of course!” Hu Tao grins. “Let’s go shopping! We’ll buy you a ton of coffee and I can get a closer look at those—”

“First we have to find a place to stay,” Zhongli says. “Ideally, somewhere remote, deep in the forest.”

Rayyan’s dead eyes brighten. “I might have an idea, actually.”

***

Since the gods disappeared, Sumeru’s rainforest has suffered greatly. Deforestation is rampant as large sections of the forest are burned and culled to make way for human activity. Ajax has read in history books that the forests were once filled with spirit creatures, the Dendro Archon’s familiars and the source of much folklore. Now, there isn’t a trace of the magic that once filled this place.

Still, the rainforest is the largest in the world, and they manage to find a cabin in a deep, secluded part of Apam Woods. Rayyan found a hunter in Port Ormos who was more than happy to rent out her cabin while off-season. They paid her in advance and can stay as long as they like.

After purchasing supplies, Ajax visits the post office to send a telegram back to Fatui HQ. With his personal code, he shortly states that he is progressing but needs more time. The less detail, the better. He’s been gone this long before, but other missions usually involve some level of infiltration and complex scheming. This time, with a simple objective, he should have at least found the “mysterious exorcist" by now. Hopefully, Pierro trusts the recently promoted Harbinger enough to take his word that he needs some more time. Given the importance of this mission, it would be even more suspicious if Ajax stayed silent.

Despite spreading deforestation, the massive trees of Apam Woods are still breathtaking. Ajax has only been to Sumeru a handful of times and never ventured this deep into the wild. The woods are filled with streams and lush vegetation, dangerous wildlife and fungi. Birdsong and rushing waterfalls. A peaceful, haunting mist decorates the valley. Even though they’re on the run, Ajax can’t help but enjoy this stop in their journey.

The cabin is located halfway up a tree the size of a skyscraper. It’s more of a complex treehouse nestled in the branches, complete with several platforms, a kitchen, and a handy pump system for retreiving fresh water from inside the tree. Missing modern conveniences like plumbing and electricity is hardly a bad trade for the isolation and view.

Hu Tao is leaping gleefully from branch to branch like a squirrel as she explores the place while the adults unload their luggage. Their student friend seems unused to exercise and collapses in a chair the moment they’re inside.

“Are you alright?” Ajax asks.

“I’m–I just…a moment, please.” Rayyan closes their eyes, chest heaving.

Zhongli and Ajax exchange a glance. They’re clearly both feeling the same thing: concern for the health of the alchemist they’re putting all their faith in.

“While you unpack, maybe I’ll get us some fresh food?” Ajax suggests. Despite Hu Tao’s insistence on a shopping spree, they only bought the necessities and decided not to haul a ton of provisions up the tree.

“How?” Zhongli frowns.

“I saw a few hunting bows back there.” Ajax feels himself grinning. “I’m sure the owner wouldn’t mind if I borrow them.”

“You know how to shoot a bow?”

“More or less. It helps with shooting guns, actually. Makes your aim more accurate.” He stretches, excited at the thought of exploring the area. “There seem to be a lot of mushrooms and fruit around here too. I could cook something nice.”

“You know how to prepare and cook fresh game?” If Zhongli is impressed, he doesn’t show it. “That’s a…unique skillset.”

Ajax knows his smiles are often fake, but there’s nothing but amusement in his expression now. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

“Evidently.” The adeptus looks at him thoughtfully. “Your survival skills will be very useful as we’re on the run.”

It’s not meant to be a compliment, but Ajax feels his heart swell anyway. Since Zhongli apologized a few days ago, he’s been much nicer. The tension between them isn’t gone, but it feels different, a rising and falling thing that wavers between comfortable amicability and something sharper and deeper. Something that evades definition.

On Ajax’s side, he can’t deny his feelings have become quite awkward and confusing. He could call his attraction curiosity before, but now there’s a thread between them being constantly tugged, stealing his attention. He’s still curious. And still hurt. And still guilty. It’s not simple attraction—it’s a layered, convoluted thing structured with conflicting feelings of necessity and bitterness and shame and awe and want—together demanding the subject of his every active and idle thought be his soulmate.

Addiction, Zhongli had called it. Obsession.

It isn’t impossible to imagine anymore. Not when he can’t sit easy when Zhongli is around and can’t focus when he’s out of sight either. Not when he reads too far into every word and gesture. Not when the tugging draws him inexorably closer.

And these days, as Zhongli’s cold words turn warm and his frowns are replaced with smiles, the tugging is much more insistent.

It turns things awkward. Like now, when there’s no reason for his face to warm as it does. Ajax realizes he’s staring at Zhongli and clears his throat. “Yeah. I can hunt and cook, you have all the knowledge we need, and Hu Tao can….”

“Impede our progress at every turn?” Zhongli smiles.

“Yeah. The most important job.” They share the smile, and unlike before, Zhongli doesn’t shrink from it.

Rayyan coming back to life with a groan and sitting up interrupts them. Ajax breaks eye contact and says, “I’ll go hunt, then? Shouldn’t take too long.”

“Be careful.” The smile leaves Zhongli’s face. “We have no idea what lives in these woods.”

“I can take care of myself,” Ajax laughs.

“I know you can.” His voice is almost too serious, and Ajax can’t escape that awkward pang in his stomach for one second, can he? “Just be careful.”

Before, Ajax would have taken a statement like that as distrust. But it’s not. It’s genuine worry, and maybe it has been all along. Maybe every time Zhongli didn’t want him out of his sight wasn’t distrust. Maybe it was the bond urging them to stay close.

“I will.” Ajax flashes a fake grin in place of the strange ache he truly feels. “I’ll be right back.”

He heads out to hunt with Zhongli’s lingering gaze dragging him back like a gentle riptide.

***

They quickly establish a routine. Rayyan has taken over one of the huts as an alchemy lab with various makeshift equipment. They seem content to toil away, but the others insist they regularly take breaks and also keep up with their own work. Zhongli helps them out, and Ajax makes sure everyone’s fed.

After a couple days, Rayyan says they’re making good progress. Ajax wouldn’t know one way or another, but their good mood is encouraging. They aren’t ready to test anything on him yet, and he is happy to wait as long as possible to be a test subject.

It’s unusual to have this much down time. Ajax doesn’t know what to do with himself. Other than hunting and housework, there is no work to be done, a great contrast to his typical busy life. He and Hu Tao play games and chat. He tries to teach her to cook, which goes disastrously. After an incident where the ceiling catches fire and nearly burns down the entire treehouse, a stern Zhongli bans the teenage exorcist from the kitchen.

So Ajax decides to train to pass the time. The huge, natural platforms around the tree are plenty enough space to swing a weapon. Ajax finds a couple hiking poles in the cabin that are a surprisingly close approximation for an Inazuman bou.

On the fourth morning, he takes a staff out to the largest platform to practice. In just an undershirt and loose trousers, he kicks off his shoes and starts going through a familiar warm up. After so much traveling and staying in cramped quarters, it feels great to be out in the fresh forest air with a weapon in his hands.

In five minutes, sweat starts pouring from the humidity, but it feels amazing as he swings and jabs and dodges and blocks imaginary enemies. While not entirely practical in the modern age, staff-based martial arts were an important part of his training. He’s always been good with any martial arts that he was put to, and it helped that Scaramouche liked to smack him in the head with his own staff every time he slipped up. He imagines finally beating up the shorter man now and soon his movements take on extra determination.

He’s so lost in concentration that he doesn’t notice Hu Tao sneaking up on him until he swings around and she’s there and his staff freezes an inch from her face.

“Hu Tao!” Ajax pants. “Careful!”

She raises a mischievous eyebrow. “I could’ve deflected it.”

“Oh yeah? With your bare hands?” He smiles.

“Of course.”

“Well, come on then,” he teases, too full of endorphins to remember that Zhongli didn’t want them training together. He draws back to a starting pose.

Hu Tao also strikes up a pose with a wide grin. Hands open and turned. Ready.

Ajax lets out a few testing jabs that she dodges with ease. He steps up the speed a bit, but she dances around every strike.

“Ajax,” she whines. “Why aren’t you trying?”

“I don’t want to hit you.”

“How am I supposed to deflect if you don’t hit me?”

“It would be like whacking my little sister with a stick.”

She sighs dramatically. “Well, this little sister can beat you up, so bring it.” She takes up a ready stance again.

He laughs. “Fine, I’ll hit you right in the face, then. Ready?”

Hu Tao answers with a flash of teeth.

Ajax stands relaxed for a moment, analyzing her posture, before bringing the staff straight up at her face. He holds back on the force, of course, but it seems she doesn’t need the help. With a twist of her hands, she guides the staff to work with its momentum and throw it off course, which wrenches Ajax forward. He spins and draws the staff back in a defensive kneeling stance while Hu Tao cackles.

“I’ve been training with a gùn since I could hold one.” She puts her hands on her hips. “Don’t you dare go easy on me.”

Ajax finds himself smiling a real, wide smile for the first time in recent memory. Even though he held back, she’s clearly skilled. “That was great. We should—”

A presence that could never sneak up on him because even separate it’s always dim in the back of his mind, distracting him, washes over Ajax as Zhongli appears around the trunk of the tree. Ajax jumps to his feet and resists the urge to hide the staff that’s nearly as tall as he is behind his back.

Hu Tao also looks nervous at Zhongli’s grim expression. He’s holding the other staff.

“Li-Li, listen.” She spreads her hands. “There’s no guarantee I can stay out of danger and I think it would actually be safer—”

But he just tosses her the staff. She catches it, blinks, and looks back up at him. “Li-Li?”

“You’re right.” He clasps his hands behind his back, face still grim. “You should train together. It was foolish of me to try to prevent you.”

“Really?” Her eyes shine.

“I underestimated Ajax’s carefulness,” Zhongli says. “And your skill. It’s a good idea to practice fighting. We should be as prepared as possible for conflict.”

His gaze on Ajax suddenly makes him aware of his half-dressed and sweaty state. Not that the adeptus hasn’t seen him disheveled before, but now his thin undershirt is soaked and sticking to his skin and his hair is a mess and he’s warmly aware of it. 

Again, that awkward awareness. Why should he care?

“Thanks, Li-Li!” Hu Tao grins and brandishes her staff at Ajax. “Prepare yourself! I’ll show you what a true master of the staff can do!”

Zhongli sighs. “Within reason, of course. Please don’t hurt each other.”

Hu Tao bows sarcastically. “Yes, great elder. I will do my best not to destroy this helpless amateur.”

“Amateur?” Ajax scoffs. “Who do you think I am?”

“A guy who doesn’t have the guts to hit me in the face,” she taunts.

He would scowl but the banter feels wonderful. Well, as long as they have Zhongli’s approval and she doesn’t want him to hold back….

Ajax strikes before she’s ready and puts almost inhuman speed into the movement. He achieves his goal of wiping the smirk off her face as she scrambles backward to dodge him.

Although, she does manage—unlike any normal person could ever hope to—to dodge. As he continues a relentless assault to test her defenses, he only once gets close to landing a blow.

“What the hell is your technique?” Hu Tao pants after two minutes end in a draw. “I’ve never seen this style before.”

“I’ve trained in a lot of different disciplines.”

“An extra challenge then.” It seems Hu Tao is as much a thrill seeker as he is as she presses forward with renewed determination and a grin.

Hu Tao is excellent. So excellent that Ajax actually has to try. He’s not trying his best because no matter what she says, he doesn’t want to hurt her. But she presents a genuine challenge, and it’s honestly the most fun and relaxing thing that’s happened since their lives fell apart.

He can’t concentrate, however, because he’s acutely aware of Zhongli watching the whole time. Whether he wants to show off—which would be the dumbest thing ever—or is scared of hitting Hu Tao in front of her protective brother—a reasonable fear given his intimidating disapproval—the presence of those watchful amber eyes is wildly distracting.

So distracting that he slips up.

A side glance at Zhongli lets Hu Tao find an opening to slam the end of her staff right into his stomach. A simultaneous oof from both the men accompanies Ajax bending over in pain.

“Haha! My point!”

“Hu Tao!” It’s Zhongli who speaks, his voice scolding. “I said be careful.”

“I was!” she complains. “He should’ve seen that coming.”

“I’m fine,” Ajax wheezes as he straightens up. It’s nothing compared to the way Scaramouche used to beat him up while sparring. “You just caught me off guard.”

“How?” She frowns.

He wouldn’t want to see the expression on Zhongli’s face if he said Your brother distracted me, so he shrugs. “I guess you’re a true master of the staff.”

Hu Tao narrows her eyes. “I’ll accept that admission when I beat you fairly.” She points her staff at him. “Now, give me your best! Entertain me!”

Ajax is about to roll his eyes, but Zhongli beats him to it, once again sighing in exasperation. “I have to go help Rayyan. Can I trust you two not to hurt each other?” It's said more as a tease than a reprimand.

“I can’t promise anything.” Hu Tao flashes him a peace sign. “But I try to be kind to my opponents.”

Zhongli shakes his head and turns to leave, and a question flies out of Ajax’s mouth before the thought fully forms. “Would you want to practice later?”

The prospect of sparring with a former god is much more exciting than he cares to admit. A chance to test himself. And to see Zhongli’s strength close up—

“Oh, no, I prefer to watch.” Zhongli’s smile is warm with his decline. “But I hope you two get some good practice.”

Ajax tries not to look disappointed when he nods. Once Zhongli is gone, Ajax’s focus improves remarkably, even as Hu Tao redoubles her efforts to destroy him.

Ajax doesn’t want Hu Tao to know that she only got a hit in because Zhongli was distracting him. So he continues to hold back and keeps his effort at a challenging but not overwhelming level. After 20 or so minutes, a significant difference between them appears when Hu Tao bends over, clutching her side, winded.

“Tired already?” he laughs.

“Aren’t…you?” she pants.

“No.”

She groans. “Let’s…take a break.”

Ajax and Hu Tao flop down at the edge of the platform, their legs dangling off the three-hundred foot drop. They share a jug of water as they catch their breath.

“Just for the record,” she says after she can breathe again, “I’m out of practice. I have crazy stamina when I practice, you’ll see.”

“Sure,” he says.

Hu Tao glares at him. “Enjoy that arrogance while you can, Mr. Assassin. Someday, I’ll catch up and destroy you.”

“I look forward to it.” He smiles.

“I’m serious. Not even Zhongli will be able to save you.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Terrifying.”

Hu Tao’s scowl lasts for another second before breaking into laughter. They both laugh for a minute, then something soft and serious comes over her face. “I bet you’re a great older brother.”

Ajax feels his face redden. “You think so?”

Her eyes turn away to the deep mist of the forest and her small smile is real. “Of course. You’re caring. You’re a great cook. Patient and funny. If not a complete dumbass sometimes.”

Caring? His face grows hotter.

“And not afraid to fight me.” Her grin takes on its usual devilishness and she meets his eyes. “Perfect.”

“Thanks,” he manages, a little embarrassed.

There’s a pause as she looks at him. “Do you miss your siblings?”

“Of course I do.” He thinks about them all day, every day. Whether they’re safe…what they’ll say when they find out who he really is…. And more than anything, how nice it would be to see their smiling faces again, how nice it would be to hold them and know that everything was okay….

“I’ve always wanted a big family.” Hu Tao’s gaze returns to the trees. “My parents died when I was little, I don’t really remember them. Grandpa did his best but it was lonely. I’ve always wanted a lot of siblings like you do. Real people filling the house, not a bunch of dead bodies.” She sighs. “I never wanted to be normal, but sometimes I wonder how it would feel to be a regular kid who doesn’t live in a funeral parlor with a god.”

Ajax reaches for comforting words in the somber pause, but Hu Tao laughs. “It’s just a thought. I might be jealous of you, but I don’t need blood relatives. Don’t get me wrong, I love Zhongli.”

“He’s a good brother,” Ajax says.

“Yeah.” Hu Tao smiles sadly. “I can’t believe he let us spar today. He’s always trying to hold me back.” She sighs. “I know he worries but….”

“He’s lost a lot of people,” Ajax says. “Keeping you safe is his priority.”

“Yeah, but how am I supposed to defend myself if he’s always doing it for me? He can’t always be there.” She stares out at the trees. “He’s way too protective.”

“I think I’d act the same way if my siblings were here,” Ajax laughs lightly.

“Hm.” She swings her legs off the edge. “I guess that’s another thing you have in common.”

“What is?”

“You both spend all your time taking care of other people.”

“I-I don’t think that’s true,” Ajax stutters.

Now she laughs. “I know he does. He never lets me take care of him. He’s too used to being in charge. He has to do all the housework and Wangsheng’s paperwork and help me with my homework on top of it all. I’d call him a control freak, but I know it’s because he’s trying to take care of me.” She sighs. “He doesn’t seem to get that it goes both ways.”

Ajax frowns.

“I get a similar vibe with you.” Hu Tao nudges him with her shoulder. “Don’t you financially support your entire family? You spend every day working for them and thinking about them. You even traded your freedom to save them.”

“Yeah….” he mutters.

“Does anyone ever take care of you?”

Hu Tao’s uncomfortable bluntness once again takes center stage. Ajax laughs shortly. “I don’t think you can judge my life by normal standards. I’m only allowed to see my family once a month for one night. And the rest of the time is spent with people trying to kill me.”

“So that’s a no?” Her eyes twinkle. How did she develop such an uncanny knack for finding people’s weak points?

“Yeah, I guess.” He looks down at the dizzying drop. “I’ve never thought about it.”

Hu Tao follows his gaze. “You deserve to be taken care of. Both of you.”

Ajax manages a weak smile. He’s not sure about that, but he won’t argue. “I know you’ve been trying to help us. Sorry we’ve made it hard.”

She shrugs. “You’re both stupid. Someone has to be the voice of reason.”

“He does rely on you, you know,” Ajax says. “I’ve seen it, you do take care of him.” Her smile is strained with something unspoken, so he goes on: “You’re a great little sister, too.”

The tiredness lingers in her crimson eyes for a second longer before she stretches and smirks. “I know.”

He snorts. “Humble.”

“True.” Her smirk widens. “I’m the best and you’d never survive without me.”

Ajax finds himself smiling with affection, not teasing. “Yeah, you are.”

Hu Tao is never one to get flustered. She nods seriously. “It’s about time you accept my place at the top of the hierarchy. After all, we’re a family now, aren’t we?”

“Are we?”

“I think a family is whoever you choose.” Hu Tao entwines her sweaty arm with his. “I helped nurse you back to health after you stole all my wine and passed out drunk, those bonds run deeper than blood.” Her eyes sparkle as they both laugh, but then they fall serious. “I’d like if you were my brother.”

Ajax almost chokes at the sincerity in her voice. “You would?”

“Of course.”

“That’s….” He looks away. “You don’t have to say that.”

“Why?” Hu Tao squeezes his arm. “I mean it. Why wouldn’t I want you as a brother?”

“I’ve…killed a lot of people. I-I’m not someone you should—”

“So?” she interrupts with a laugh. “I don’t care about silly things like that.”

“Silly things?” he repeats weakly. “I’m a bad person. You don’t have to—”

“Ajax.” Hu Tao’s sigh is full of exasperated drama. “There’s no good or bad in this world. It’s just the way you think about it. And I think what you've done doesn't matter.”

He looks at her for a moment. “You really don’t care?”

She smiles, genuine, kind, and still a bit mischievous. “I don’t.”

Ajax believes her. It’s incredible. And refreshing. In the long decade he’s spent in this life, he’s never looked into a kind, righteous person’s eyes and not seen a monster reflected back.

“You’re the first person I’ve met who hasn’t cared.”

“Then I guess you haven’t met many nuanced people,” Hu Tao says. “I don’t choose my friends based on their good deeds alone. The world’s not that black and white.”

No wonder Zhongli says she’s hard to argue with. She’s straightforward, determined, and surprisingly wise. The fact that she likes him means a lot.

After a pause, he returns her smile. “For the record, I’d like it if you were my sister too.”

“Good. It’s official, then!” She grins and then leans back. “And maybe someday you’ll be my legal brother-in-law!”

“Brother-in-law?” He frowns. How would that even…? “You-you mean….” The delayed realization hits: Marry Zhongli?

At the sight of his face going red, she giggles like a madman and leaps to her feet. “Let’s spar again later, okay?”

“Wait! Hu Tao!” He groans in frustration, but she’s already dashed out of sight. He hadn’t thought about how claiming him as a brother gives her new rights to bully him. Is she wise? Yes. But still as annoying as a little sister should be.

He sits alone for a moment, stewing in exasperation, embarrassment, and the feeling of warm companionship. Her meddling is nice but unrealistic. Zhongli may have begun to tolerate his presence, but Hu Tao is out of her mind if she thinks her brother would ever want to add another bond to their relationship. She may not mind his crimes, but it feels like Zhongli will never forgive him.

Then again, it was just over a week ago that Ajax thought Zhongli hated him, which turned out to not be true at all.

And it might be dangerous, Ajax realizes, that his reaction to that thought is a strange tickling feeling that swells to fill his whole chest.

Chapter Text

Zhongli does not want to admit, as Hu Tao teases him, that he is growing soft by letting her and Ajax spar. It is not softness but logic. He was being unreasonable before; it is a good idea for her to practice fighting and Ajax can be helpful.

Even if she rolls her eyes at his response.

He’s glad the two of them are getting along. Hu Tao has plenty of affection to spare, and he has no right to tell her who she should be friends with. Even as lingering bitterness clouds his feelings towards Ajax, he can see that it’s ridiculous to stop them from becoming friends. He has no intention of being friends with the assassin, but he won’t stop Hu Tao if she wants to.

Although…Zhongli isn’t sure how much longer he can keep up the pretense of indifference in his own mind. He isn’t stupid. He knows that their relationship has been warmer since his apology.

Zhongli wants their relationship to be productive but beyond that…he’d rather not think about it. It’s an often tense, strange thing when he feels himself warming and flinches from it. He’s on guard against the gentle ebb and flow of Ajax’s energy intermingling with his own and drawing them closer together, but now that he’s decided to be nice, he’s not sure what he can do to avoid it.

He can’t trust his own emotions not to grow even warmer. This is what he hates, the mockery of free will. Why fight fate? The answer is now obvious: for some semblance of the control he so desperately wishes he still had.

He feels thrown off balance since Venti confronted him about this. It’s not as if he wants to prolong his own negative emotions like this, but it’s also not as if he can change overnight. He is a being unused to change. 

He will refuse to give in until the mountains crumble into the sea, but some part of him that he keeps diligently stifled just wants to let go.

He’ll settle for this often tense, often warm thing they have now and not torture himself by overthinking it.

At least, he will try.

The days pass peacefully, and despite the Fatui threat that grows with every passing day, their time in the rainforest is nice. Zhongli and Rayyan work well together, Ajax is surprisingly good at procuring food, and Hu Tao hasn’t caused many crises yet. It’s a comfortable dynamic that they fall into within a couple of days.

It’s been many years since Zhongli last visited Sumeru. The rainforest is breathtaking as usual, even with human activity encroaching on the magical wilderness. The Aranara are nowhere to be seen, and neither is their god.

Even for Zhongli, the land of wisdom hides new knowledge to learn. Both welcome things and….

“I feel like I can trust you.”

After a week of working together, Rayyan confesses something to him. The young alchemist’s eyes are earnest as the two of them stand around the alchemy table. “You seem to know a lot about the gods and history, and there’s…there’s something I think you would want to know.”

“What is it?” Zhongli asks.

“When I snuck into the restricted section of the library a few years ago, I found all sorts of documents the sages don’t want seen.” His heart can only drop at the news he senses billowing within their dark gaze. “And there were…there were documents detailing the Akademiya’s operation to remove Greater Lord Rukkhadevata from power.”

So it’s true? The humans of this country plotted against their own god?

Zhongli suspected that the Akademiya was directly responsible for their archon’s demise. The organization had wanted control of Sumeru for centuries. His own government would never have challenged him directly; they knew he was too powerful. And indeed, upon discovering Azhdaha’s body, he slaughtered the humans responsible for his husband’s death without thinking. Only the paralyzing grasp of grief had stopped his rampage, something he’ll never know if he’s thankful for or not. Perhaps he could have saved his country if he had used force back then, but the trauma of killing his own people would also have been a terrible burden.

Rukkhadevata was also a being of incredible power. She would not have gone down without a fight, without some trick—

“How did they succeed?” he asks Rayyan.

“The Akademiya deliberately engineered a crisis that forced our god to use all her power to stop it. The history textbooks say she gave her life to save us from an unavoidable ecological disaster. But the documents say…she was reduced to a small child who had lost all her power and memories. The sages took her. I don’t know what happened after that.”

Zhongli stops at that. “So she’s alive?”

Rayyan shakes their head sadly. “I doubt it. If she is, she’s locked away somewhere. No longer the god she was. The sages have absolute control of this country.”

Once again, any brief hope is dashed. Zhongli knew all about the ecological disaster. It happened just as everything was falling apart. He had heard that she died and believed it all these years.

After Ajax’s news about Ganyu and Xiao, and then Venti’s reappearance, it seems his people aren’t as gone as he thought. But even if there is hope that she’s alive, she’s a prisoner like the remaining adepti. Hearing about the god of wisdom’s fate is yet another source of despair.

Or a source of motivation, another call to arms. As everyone repeats like a needling distraction, cutting deeper and deeper: You are our only hope. Don’t give up. Keep fighting.

The two of them continue experimenting as Zhongli falls into a contemplative silence. Work will calm his mind, and soon the news of his friend’s fate will fade to another pale scar on his heart. He already has plenty. What is one more?

***

After over a week of hard work, Rayyan has the beginnings of a prototype that they want to try on Ajax. 

“The structure is polymorphic, so I had to individually select for certain nodes to synthesize with the receptor mechanism. I’ve been trying to find a way to select for them automatically, but this is the best I’ve been able to do so far,” Rayyan sighs. 

Ajax clearly has no idea what those words mean, but he nods. He sits in a chair in their makeshift lab, and despite looking calm, Zhongli can feel subtle nervousness prickling off him.

“So, how does this feel?” The alchemist holds a crystal against his neck.

 For a moment, nothing happens. Then Zhongli feels a burning sensation flare on Ajax’s neck. He lets out a wince and flinches. Rayyan immediately retracts their hand, but Ajax dips forward. Zhongli stationed himself at Ajax’s side just in case and catches his shoulders before he can fall.

“That…hurt,” Ajax mutters after a second of leaning on Zhongli.

“Hm.” Rayyan starts jotting down notes. “That was unexpected.”

Zhongli maintains the firm grip on his shoulders as Ajax sits up and shakes his head, dizzy. Once again, that strange protective urge is burning in his stomach. He was afraid of this.

“Could we perhaps,” Zhongli says, voice low, “find a way to test it without injuring him?”

Ajax blinks up at him, perhaps not expecting the bite in his voice. “I’m fine.”

“There has to be an ethical way to test this,” Zhongli argues.

“I said I’m used to it,” the ex-assassin says with a weak smile. He gently removes Zhongli’s iron grip from his shoulders. “It would take a lot more than that to hurt me.”

Zhongli’s jaw clenches. “I don’t want to put you through things like this anymore.” He has been through enough experimentation with the Fatui.

Ajax stares up at him with a slightly dumbfounded expression. “That’s…kind, but we don’t really have a choice.”

Rayyan nods in agreement, not looking happy with the situation either. “This is really trial and error. I won’t know if certain techniques are effective without trying them.”

Zhongli feels the anger inside him rise, and he battles to temper it. If Ajax doesn’t have a problem, Zhongli shouldn’t have a problem. He’s not even the one being directly affected. Why should he care?

But he does care. The irrational urge to keep his soulmate safe is compromising his reason.

Zhongli realizes this and takes a deep breath. “I think that’s enough for today. Ajax, may I have a word?”

Rayyan opens their mouth as if to argue, but Zhongli is already moving out of the lab. He senses Ajax following him as he climbs a ladder to a separate platform. Outside, the sun has begun its descent beyond the valley. The mist filling the forest glows a light, ethereal gold, but Zhongli’s attention is not on the scenery.

He folds his arms as Ajax joins him with a questioning look.

“I think we should work on mitigating the effects of our bond,” he says.

“Mitigating the effects?” Ajax repeats quietly.

While at first, those deep blue eyes were unreadable, Ajax’s mask has been slipping more and more as their time together passes, and now Zhongli can glimpse the slight hurt that flashes through them.

He realizes that was what he said when he was rude before, when he told him he had no interest in being friends. Zhongli hurries to explain: “It’s dangerous that we’re so sensitive to each other’s energy. For instance, I couldn’t sense Barbatos even when he was close to me at the bar. And when we were in the Knights’ storehouse, neither of us could sense the things Hu Tao was sensing. We blind each other.”

“But we can’t do anything about it, can we?” Ajax’s voice is still wary.

“It may be possible to grow accustomed to each other’s energy enough that it is no longer overwhelming. We’ve essentially been thrown in the ocean and we’re trying not to drown. I think we can learn how to swim. Learn to control our bond to some extent.”

Ajax nods slowly. “Why are you bringing this up now though?”

Zhongli avoids his eyes. “Rayyan was being helpful. It was necessary to the experiment. And yet when the test hurt you, I was…moved enough that I wanted to call it off.”

He doesn’t look at Ajax, but he can hear his soft hum. “Yeah…it would be helpful not to be so distracted.”

Distracted? Zhongli’s head turns back. He didn’t mention that. Is Ajax distracted by him? The human keeps his gaze down and doesn’t elaborate.

“We should sit with each other’s energy,” Zhongli says. “Get adjusted to it. Build up a tolerance.”

“Like exposure therapy?”

“Like jumping into a deep ocean to learn how to swim.” Their eyes meet again. “We’ll meditate together, deliberately engage with each other’s energy.”

“Okay.” A flash of nervousness crosses Ajax’s indifferent expression, gone as fast as a falling star.

They find a comfortable spot further up the tree and settle on a wide branch. The weather is cooling as the sun dips west, the humidity brisk and pleasant. A breeze rustles the large leaves and evening birds begin their songs, but all else is quiet. Zhongli drops into an elegant cross-legged position, and Ajax sits opposite him. 

“So, uh, what do we do?” he asks.

“Ah, yes, you have not done this before, have you?”

“No?” Ajax frowns. “Do you do this often?”

“There have been several occasions where I needed to contact someone’s soul in the past, but not recently.”

“How do you contact someone’s soul?”

“Just like you sense people’s energy,” Zhongli says. “You simply follow their energy deeper and deeper until you reach their soul. Well, simply isn’t really.... It’s quite difficult, even for an adeptus. But I am a practiced dreamwalker, and with our soul connection, it should be trivial as long as you let me in.”

“Dreamwalker?”

“Yes, I can enter dreams and even shape them. When someone is awake, it’s hard to see into their mind without consent, but the sleeping mind is much more vulnerable to intrusion.”

This time, the flash of nervousness in Ajax’s eyes is much more noticeable. “You can read minds?”

“Well, no, not exactly. It’s not the same.” Zhongli realizes how that sounded. “And just because I can dreamwalk doesn’t mean that I choose to. It can be a horrible violation. I wouldn’t abuse this power lightly.”

“Even to read an enemy’s mind?” Ajax asks quietly.

It’s not mind reading, he wants to repeat but recognizes the deeper question there. “Ajax, even if I could, I would never read your mind without permission.”

The human shifts uncomfortably and stares at the ground. “You just said it’s easy to access my soul, and you had every reason not to trust me at first.”

Zhongli remembers abruptly that he had actually considered trying to glean Ajax’s intentions from his mind and had only decided not to because he didn’t want to learn any more about him. And it’s not as if he hasn’t done so several times over the long millennia. He can’t pretend he’s always been morally upright on this point....

Morax didn’t used to feel guilty about the terrible things he did in the midst of war or for the cost of building a nation. These days, however, every mistake and sin haunts him. Maybe he is getting soft, if once he would happily violate Ajax’s privacy and now the thought makes him guilty.

“I didn’t read your mind, and I won’t,” he says, which is the truth. “You have nothing to fear.”

He says it like a promise, the one thing they both know he values above all else. Ajax’s expression remains wary for a second longer before he relaxes. “Okay. I trust you.”

That catches Zhongli off guard. He’s given Ajax no reason to trust him. In fact, he’s consistently dismissed Ajax’s feelings and frankly treated him as not worthy of concern. The guilt spikes again. He hopes he can live up to his trust from now on.

“I’ll reach out to you. Close your eyes and focus on my energy.” To completely reassure him, Zhongli repeats, “We’ll be able to feel each other’s emotions, of course, but nothing more. We’re just trying to get used to the energy.”

Ajax lets out a long breath and obeys him. Zhongli also closes his eyes. As usual, Ajax’s aura is all he can see. It waits, bright, strong, thrumming—a flood that fills his senses as he willingly releases the dam.

They are safe here, Zhongli reminds himself. There is no need to stay alert and in tune with their surroundings. They can soak fully in each other’s energy.

He extends a mental hand to Ajax, who lingers, pulled back, hesitant to engage with Zhongli’s energy. Ajax starts to take the imagined hand, but as they get closer, he flinches.

“Ajax.” Zhongli opens his eyes to find the human’s face screwed up. “You have to relax. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“It…feels weird.”

“It may be uncomfortable, but it’s just a more intense experience of what we normally feel. Our energies will connect further, and then we’ll draw back after a minute.”

Ajax swallows. Nervousness spikes off his energy in yellow pulses.

It’s not as if Zhongli doesn’t feel the same way. There are many things he’d rather keep private, and their souls embracing is uncomfortably intimate. They are both forcing themselves, but this is necessary if they want to learn to exert some control over their situation.

“You have to accept me,” Zhongli says a bit more gently. “It only works if we’re both willing.”

He feels Ajax focus again. Zhongli’s hand is there, open and waiting. When he finally takes it, it’s warm and steady, like dipping into a hot spring. It’s certainly uncomfortable, the exposure to raw energy, although the contact should feel natural once they settle into it.

A roaring waterfall of energy meets him. Close up, Ajax’s energy is overwhelming. A glaring, powerful thing that invades his senses and leaves him blind.  Like when they first met, it makes him want to panic and retreat.

Zhongli forces himself to stay engaged. This feels much more intimate than any physical contact. Like poking an exposed nerve. He’s used to the—now soothing—constant warm flow of Ajax’s energy, but as he pushes closer, the intensity makes him grit his teeth.

The demon curse plagues Zhongli’s every attempt to get closer. The curse is a parasite stuck to his soul itself that lashes out at any intrusion. It spills through their connection like poisonous mist, stinging and biting to keep him out. 

If only it could be as easy as to just rip it from him right now. Zhongli and Ajax can only see each other’s souls, they can’t enter or interact or mold them. If only he could truly reach inside, grab ahold of the thing endangering them, and tear it off. He tries to ignore the anger that thought causes and look past to only Ajax’s soul.

He used to hate feeling his energy. The nature of his eyes is a manifestation of the soul that lies beneath. That chilling dead, empty look that he so often wears. Fake emotion that masks inauthenticity and lifelessness.

But getting to know him, the reality is very much the opposite. There are layers upon layers to him; the emptiness painted with fake emotions is just another mask. Below lies a soul as full of life and spirit as any other.

Ajax wasn’t trained to trick people with false warmth and charisma. He was trained to be empty. A decade of being molded into a weapon has created a thick layer of paint, a shell, a mask that presents an assassin and hides a person.

The real person inside is becoming more and more visible to Zhongli now. It has peeked through—moonlight fighting through the clouds on a dark night—when he talks about his family and a smile buried and repressed finds its way to the surface.

A few days ago, when Ajax and Hu Tao were sparring, Zhongli could sense it. He looked so happy, so alive. It was fascinating to watch the change. There was a glow around him, a smile drawing close to something real.

That smile. Zhongli…would like to see it again. The light that dead eyes forgot—

The vast, calm and turbulent ocean that is Ajax’s soul, the warm and tranquil and rushing water—

So many things lie underneath its surface, dark things and happy things, vague shadows that shift in the night, a beckoning to sink deeper. A vortex that enraptures and invites curiosity. And a bitter, piercing moon reflected on the water, a blue moon, its light yearning to reach forgotten depths—

He has to hold himself back from getting lost in the waterfall of energy. It is sudden, dizzying, like being drunk, stumbling through pure feeling. Hard to keep a hold on himself.

Perhaps they should take a break.

Zhongli withdraws. It feels like being dunked in a bucket of ice after the warmth of their mingling energies. He struggles to open his eyes, to come back into himself after the intensity of deliberately staring into the other’s soul.

When he does open his eyes, Ajax is slumped forward, his forehead on the ground.

“Ajax?” Zhongli starts forward. “What’s wrong?”

“You just…left all of a sudden,” Ajax laughs weakly. He sits up with a wince. “That was—very overwhelming.”

“I’m sorry, I…also was overwhelmed.” He still feels dizzy. “Maybe we should have taken it slower.”

Ajax nods, eyes vague, hand braced on his knee. “I...that was...you’re a lot.”

“I’m a lot?”

“You felt sad,” Ajax says, his voice faraway. “So sad I could barely stand to look at it.”

Zhongli swallows and looks away. He hadn’t thought about it—all the history, the weight of everything that’s happened to him. The long millennia and the sheer volume of memories. It must be intense for a human mind. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think about the impact on you.”

“The impact?” Ajax’s gaze focuses back on him. “Of what? What’s wrong?”

What’s wrong? What a simple question.

“Nothing to bother you with,” Zhongli says with a small laugh. “The weight of my life is not a burden that anyone else should have to shoulder.”

An onerous silence lasts only a few seconds before Ajax says, voice low, “I’m already shouldering it, aren’t I?”

“I’m sorry,” Zhongli says again. “I will do better to restrain my emotions. I don’t wish for our bond to be a burden on you.”

Ajax stares at him for a moment before a tiny, soft smile crosses his face. “She was right about you.”

Zhongli frowns. “Who?”

“Hu Tao told me—” Ajax breaks off, laughs shortly, and returns his gaze to the ground. “Never mind. You don’t have to tell me how you feel.”

Zhongli swallows. He’s not practiced in talking about his feelings. Only a few have coaxed them out of him over the millennia; even the dam breaking with Venti was quite rare. He is meant to embody the stability of stone itself. Steady, unmovable. Not a person who shows his cracks. He didn’t mean to show Ajax anything vulnerable in his soul.

“I–I can’t imagine,” Ajax begins again hesitantly, “what it’s like to be a god. What it’s like to be responsible for so many people’s lives for so long. Looking into your soul terrifies me. There’s so much there, things I could never understand. I feel pretty small in comparison.”

What did Hu Tao tell him? What did he see? Zhongli really didn’t mean to—

“There’s no reason you should trust me,” he continues, eyes lowered. “But Hu Tao told me that you—” He sighs, seeming to struggle for words. “I–I just think that we’re in this together now, for better or worse. I can already feel how you feel, and if–if.... It may be productive if....” He stops himself, lets out a long breath, and looks up. “If you ever feel like trusting me...I would be glad to listen.”

Once again, the person underneath peeks through. Zhongli stares—surprised, defensive—into earnest yet guarded blue eyes. 

There again is that person that shouldn’t exist, the person that should’ve been stamped out by the Fatui’s cruelty. The same one who offered himself for justice. The one who looked him in the eyes and said I’m not playing at being a good person, I want to help you as he offered to save his children. And later, things like—Doesn’t it feel wrong that the fate of every person in Teyvat is dependent on whoever’s in charge? Who confessed his story that revealed a desperate struggle against reality to preserve some kind of honor?

And now this person stares him in the face and asks to know how he feels. No monster would do that. No twisted Fatui experiment. Just a person.

An open face, maskless.

Still, Zhongli’s first reaction is to brush him off. What could he even say?

He’s not a person who shows his cracks and he could never share how he’s feeling with a source of his dilemmas anyway. Could never share those things he confessed to Venti that even Hu Tao doesn’t fully know....

That he let his family die. Let the world fall apart.

That he feels like he has lost all control. Has lost himself. 

That he is debilitatingly tired and yet everyone seems to scream at him to take action.

That he despises the world for taking everything from him while also feeling that he deserves it. That he both curses and clings to the shackles of his past.

And that, as Venti says, he is determined to torture himself.

No, he can never admit these things.

But Ajax trusted him only a few minutes ago. Ajax opened himself even after hearing that Zhongli could read his mind against his will. It would be unfair to deny him any reciprocation. 

He wants their relationship to be productive. He wants to make up for the hateful things he’s said. He wants Ajax to trust him. He wants—

Focus. He won’t tell him his feelings, but he has to say something.

“I have lost much,” Zhongli says quietly. “But nothing that has happened is your fault. I’d like you to know that I no longer harbor any negative feelings towards you.”

Well, he does. But they are of his own creation. His own confusion. Not anything because of Ajax himself.

“I don’t want to overwhelm you. Would you still like to practice meditation? Is it not too much for you?”

“No, it’s fine,” Ajax says, watching him carefully. “I’m...just.... Even if it does have nothing to do with me...it worries me.”

Ajax is...worried about him? The thought almost stops Zhongli in his tracks. His first instinct is to recoil from it.

“I am attempting to move on from the past and focus on keeping us safe,” Zhongli says, feeling his words strengthen as they grow farther from vulnerability and form a defensive barrier. “I truly don’t wish for my feelings to be a burden to you.”

He puts on a mask, one he’s always known, words he’s said a thousand times. If he keeps his scars hidden away, perhaps someday they will disappear.

A silence falls between them, littered with a shifting breeze and the low call of a dusk bird. Then his soulmate sighs, a soft and heavy thing. It seems the delicate not-truth didn’t convince him. “They’re not a burden.”

Zhongli decides to take that as They’re not a burden, it’s fine instead of They’re not a burden, so let’s talk about it.

“Good, then we can keep practicing.” He nods and glances at the sky. The sun is almost gone. Pale blue chases pale yellow from the sky above the trees as the clouds turn light purple. “Well, it’s getting late. I think we should continue another time, shall we leave it here for today?” He turns back to Ajax and—

Oh.

As the light drops from the sky, so does the little that had appeared in Ajax’s eyes. They’re not quite dead, but they are empty. His own mask fit neatly back into place.

“Okay,” he says, voice stiff as he stands. “It is late. I need to start on dinner.”

Zhongli nods, words lost at the sight of Ajax’s eyes. Eyes that he made darken.

Ajax makes to leave the platform, then pauses at the edge. With his back to him, he says in a small voice, “My offer stands, if there’s ever anything....” And then he’s gone, the nature of his offer lost to the breeze.

Zhongli sits alone, long after Ajax leaves, soul still tingling from their enhanced contact.

In an ironic reversal of his original feeling, Zhongli finds himself at the conclusion that it is not that he doesn’t deserve being bound to someone like Ajax; Ajax doesn’t deserve being bound to someone like Zhongli.

He’s not a savior; he’s a worn old soldier. He has been senselessly cruel, and even now he can’t find the strength to say more than these small platitudes. He’s not sure he can ever confess all the thoughts that run through his mind.

Ajax is obviously excited about the new freedom that he has found, but at every opportunity, Zhongli drags him down with his jadedness. Every extension of a white flag has been met with hostility. Every mention of friendship avoided. And even as Zhongli finds it within himself to act normal and even warm, the scars of his past are so heavy that they drag them both down.

Ajax was right: they are in this together. And curse this bond because even when Zhongli tries his best to be neutral, their emotions are linked and he can’t be unhappy without also hurting Ajax.

I am determined to be unhappy. I will refuse to give in until the mountains crumble into the sea, but some part of me....

He wonders how long his stubbornness will last against the steady, gentle erosion of crashing waves.

Chapter Text

If Ajax didn’t know better, this would feel like his first vacation since he was a child. Growing up poor, his parents could never manage to be away from their jobs except for on national holidays. So the couple of days during new year celebrations were the only time they could travel, and that was only if the heavy snow allowed. More often than not, they would spend the holidays huddled around the hearth just trying to keep the fire going and relying on stored food.

Ajax can hardly remember the couple of times they got away for a break. Visiting relatives in the next town over or a fishing trip to an island off the coast. It was never anything long or extravagant. He’d never even been to the capital when Pulcinella took him.

But now, deep in Apam Woods, for the first time in a decade, he feels a sense of peace in the relaxed way they live. Even with the shadow of the curse over their heads and the limited technology. Living off the land after years spent in luxury brings a refreshing mindfulness to daily life.

Ajax wakes every morning to birdsong and fog filling the valley, lit gold by the rising sun. He goes to train before the others wake and enjoys the cool humidity sticking to his skin. Rayyan will often sleep late, and the others want them to get as much rest as possible, so they eat a quiet breakfast. Hu Tao writes poetry, Zhongli tinkers at the makeshift alchemy table, and Ajax swings around whatever weapons he can find.

It’s peaceful. If the rest of their lives on the run can be like this, maybe it won’t be so bad after all.

Rayyan is making good progress, though Ajax wouldn’t be able to tell either way. They seem excited every time they try something on him and it goes well. Other than odd tingling, nothing hurts as much as the first time. Rayyan and Zhongli have enthusiastic conversations with a ton of technical jargon as they take notes and Ajax tries to follow. It seems like any day now they’ll be able to block the tracking function of his curse.

In addition, Zhongli and Ajax continue to practice soul meditation every afternoon. After a few days, Ajax gets used to it.

It’s easy to focus on the sun that consumes his vision. The feeling never stops being strange, even as it gets more comfortable. Ajax has had his energy tinkered with many times over the years. It was always the sensation of a cold scalpel that he tried to ignore. Something painful, uncomfortable, intrusive. He was subjected to many experiments, but never was he expected to be an active participant.

Now, instead of cold tools cutting him, Zhongli extends a warm hand.

He can’t hear Zhongli’s thoughts, but his being is there, the strength of a dragon and the unimaginable weight of history contained within. So many things lie beyond the borders of his soul, an incomprehensible amount of memories and feelings and…significance. 

It makes Ajax realize he doesn’t really know the adeptus at all. Even if they spent a hundred years like this, how could he know all of him?

What does it feel like to live for so long? To be immortal? To watch civilizations rise and fall? To lose everything and have the strength to carry on?

What is he thinking? What does he think of me?

Grief hides behind it all, though he can tell Zhongli is trying to restrain himself. The first time, neither of them was prepared, and it was like a flood hit Ajax all at once. An utterly dizzying flood of grief. Since then, Zhongli has kept any deeper feeling smoldering like an ember instead of the flame that rushed over Ajax at first.

Does Ajax have a right to feel offended at Zhongli’s hostility when his tiny life is nothing but a speck on the timeline of history, a grain of sand next to Zhongli’s desert? He couldn’t know what anything he’s been through feels like.

No matter what Zhongli says about not blaming him, Ajax is still guilty in his own mind. He has no right to ask to hear his feelings.

He feels like an idiot for asking Zhongli what was wrong.

Ajax really asked an ancient god What’s wrong? as casually as asking about the weather. After all the time they’ve spent together, is it not obvious?

His entire family is dead and those who aren’t are imprisoned. Because of Ajax. Of course Zhongli wouldn’t answer. Of course he would brush him off. It was stupid to act like a confidant. They’re not friends. They’re not even equals. They may have been staring into each other’s souls but that is still not his place.

What’s wrong? The most idiotic thing he could ask.

Zhongli neatly and elegantly rejected his offer of a shoulder to lean on, but that’s natural. Did Ajax really expect anything to change?

Their relationship is productive and even amicable. He doesn’t need his forgiveness. He doesn’t need friendship or anything more.

This is fine. This is enough. I am a criminal and he is my victim. I am a human and he is a god. What did I expect?

Hu Tao’s attempts at getting them to talk about their hobbies feel laughable. What does Zhongli’s favorite tea matter when the stories that make up his life are so incomprehensibly extensive and suffocating that he could never—

“Ajax?” Zhongli breaks their connection, and Ajax opens his eyes to find him frowning. “Are you alright?”

Ajax clears his throat and looks away. Does Zhongli sense his turmoil? “Can we take a break for today?” he asks instead of responding. “It’s getting late.”

“Oh.” Zhongli frowns at the sky where the sun still hangs, bright rays stabbing through the trees to dapple the undergrowth. “Is it?”

“I have to make dinner.” Ajax repeats the same predictable excuse he uses every time their sessions become too much.

If Zhongli can tell he’s upset, he doesn’t show it. “Yes, of course. Do you need help?”

He’s asked a few times, but Ajax enjoys doing it and has nothing better to occupy his time, so he always declines. “No, I’m fine.”

He stands and stretches, muscles stiff from sitting for so long. It’s been an hour this time, and surprisingly, Zhongli’s technique has been working. It’s intense when they’re practicing, but when they separate, like now, the constant, itching awareness is reduced.

That tugging hasn’t disappeared, and it probably never will. Ajax is perfectly aware that it’s attraction, but meditating together has made it less distracting.

Zhongli is still sitting on the branch, watching him. “Would you like help?” he rephrases the question. “Rayyan has kicked me out of the lab, they say they’re close and don’t want distractions. Four hands would make the work faster.”

That’s not necessary considering there’s at least two hours before any reasonable person would eat, but something in Zhongli’s gaze makes it seem like his offer isn’t practical.

Ajax wants to be alone. But the invitation of spending more time together, time not dedicated to practical experimenting or practicing, is also enticing.

“Well,” Ajax says, betraying himself. “If you have time, I’ve actually been meaning to ask you to teach me some Liyuan recipes.”

“Oh, why?” Zhongli also gets to his feet.

“I think my family would like it.” Ajax doesn’t meet his eyes. “There aren’t many Liyuan restaurants in Snezhnaya, so I want to surprise them with something they’ve never tried.”

“That’s very thoughtful,” Zhongli says.

Is it? It is in no way enough of a peace offering when he finally confesses that he’s lied to them for a decade, that their safety and wealth has been a scam and now the most powerful organization in the world will hunt them for the rest of their lives.

It’s certainly not enough to follow Mama, Papa, I’ve killed dozens of people and imprisoned countless more with Here are some dumplings!

I’m not a successful businessman, not your perfect son, I’m an assassin and a murderer and I’ve lied to you for years.

But look, I made noodles!

At his stony silence, Zhongli goes on, “Well, my skill cannot compare to the great Li and Yue masters, but I am a decent cook. I can try to teach you.”

“Thanks.” Ajax tries to smile. “I’d ask Hu Tao, but she might burn down the kitchen.”

Zhongli shakes his head. “If anyone needs lessons, it’s her. One of these days, she’ll have to learn to cook properly.”

Will you let her learn? Ajax thinks. From what Hu Tao’s told him, Zhongli prefers to take care of everything. Her not learning to cook is just another excuse for him to be the one taking care of her.

“But you are an excellent cook,” Zhongli continues. “I have a few recipes I’m sure you could master with ease.”

Ajax is sure that wasn’t meant to be a compliment, but his face warms anyway. “Great, let’s go.”

They make their way to the kitchen, but as soon as they assess their supplies, Ajax notices a problem. “We’re out of meat.”

He hasn’t been hunting in a few days. He has mostly been cooking an assortment of mushrooms and fruits during their time in the cabin. As far as he’s aware, most Liyuan food relies on meat or fish.

“That’s alright.” Zhongli sorts through a stack of dried noodles. “It’s the height of summer, how about we make cold noodles? It’s an easy first recipe to learn and doesn’t necessarily need meat. We can use these cucumbers and peppers.”

“We don’t have access to cold water,” Ajax points out.

“Cool noodles, then,” Zhongli says.

“Also, these aren’t Liyuan wheat noodles.” He takes the package of noodles out of Zhongli’s hand and peeks inside.

“Any noodles will do.”

“Do we even have the right spices?” Ajax realizes, far too late, that you can’t just switch culinary styles on a whim when trapped in the middle of nowhere with no access to a market.

Zhongli frowns at their meager supply. “Well, we have garlic and sugar. We had the foresight to purchase soy sauce in Port Ormos. This vinegar is technically a substitute for rice vinegar. Sumeru’s dried chilies may not be the same as Liyue’s, but they are still spicy…. We can do something with this.”

Ajax appreciates Zhongli’s willingness to adapt his recipe, but he feels like it may be difficult to learn Liyuan cooking when they’re using random ingredients.

Zhongli seems to come to the same conclusion. “In the end, I believe technique matters more than ingredients. The spirit of an art is in its execution, not its materials.”

Ajax isn’t sure he agrees, but he nods anyway. “Okay, teach me Liyuan techniques then.”

They begin by boiling water. Ajax starts to doubt exactly what Zhongli can teach him because he’s well versed in most of the skills they’re using.

At least, Ajax’s insecurity about their relationship eases somewhat as the time passes. The terrifying depth of Zhongli’s soul is easy to forget when he looks just like any human stood over a stove. Sleeves rolled up as he tests the water. Amber eyes thoughtful as he sorts through the ingredients. Voice lost to a monologue about culinary history. A quiet, deep laugh that sends chills down Ajax’s spine.

It feels natural to cook together and chat comfortably. And gods how Ajax wants to pretend he’s a normal person. Pretend everything is fine, that he is not a murderer who has lied to his family, that he is not on the run for his life.

That Zhongli is simply a friend who is eager to teach him about his country’s culture. That he wants to spend time with him. That he cares.

Ajax starts to slice the peppers while the noodles boil, and Zhongli finally decides he’s found something to teach.

“That’s a…unique technique.”

“You’re insulting my cutting skills?”

“Not insulting,” Zhongli sighs. “It’s just…. Let me show you what I mean. Pick up the knife.”

Ajax does and turns to the cutting board. He frowns at his pose over the peppers. It feels normal.

“You look like you’re going to stab someone,” Zhongli laughs lightly. “Relax your grip.”

“Does it really matter?” Ajax asks, amused. “The ingredients get chopped the same in the end.”

“I believe in the importance of intentionality. Mindfulness.” Zhongli moves behind him. “Here—”

He shifts forward and Ajax’s entire body goes tense at Zhongli’s hand pressed over his on the knife, his chest mere centimeters behind his back.

Ajax’s brain short-circuits. Does Zhongli not realize how this looks? He supposes it’s vastly more casual than their literal souls embracing earlier. It’s just a simple gesture. No reason for Ajax to misinterpret his intentions….

“Relax your grip,” Zhongli continues as if his breath is not warm against Ajax’s ear. “The knife isn’t a weapon. It’s a tool.”

Relax? How do you expect me to relax like this?! If he didn’t know that there’s no way Zhongli would flirt with him after his rejection of any closeness, he’d think this was deliberate.

Ajax obeys him, but his shoulders stay tense. The time they held hands to trick Diluc, it was nothing but awkward. From the outside, he supposes it looked natural, but he could feel the tension in Zhongli’s hand, the need to drop his as soon as they were clear. It was an act.

There’s no one to act for now. Zhongli’s hand is soft and warm as he adjusts Ajax’s fingers with his own to a different position, and their fingers are literally intertwined. If Ajax leaned back just a bit, his head would be on his shoulder and they’d be pressed together.

Ajax didn’t think of his attraction as particularly physical before, but then again, the only other time Zhongli willingly touched him was when Ajax was too hungover to pay attention. This is purposeful and gentle and oh gods he’s actually attracted to him, isn’t he? There’s no way this is mere curiosity when the tugging feeling is now burning through his entire body.

It is sudden and almost violent and the only time he’s ever felt like this was when Skirk kissed him all those years ago. And that was nothing to this absolute wildfire raging through him.

 Zhongli—evidently oblivious of Ajax’s panic—moves their hands and the knife in a smooth, relaxed chopping motion.

“See? It’s not a weapon.”

“Don’t you need force to cut things?” Ajax manages to mutter.

“Speed and precision are more important,” Zhongli says. “We’re creating something, not destroying.”

Not…destroying….

The tension of the moment completely breaks as Ajax remembers that they are not two normal people cooking together and potentially flirting. They are a god and an assassin. Their pasts are too bloodied for such an innocent moment. Ajax is a murderer and he’s sure that despite his warm demeanor, Zhongli still thinks he’s a monster. Why else would he see the underlying threat in how Ajax holds a knife?

Well, he’s not wrong.

“These hands are used to destroying,” Ajax sighs. How can they be expected to hold a knife gently?

Zhongli’s hand freezes in its motion but doesn’t release his. “So are mine,” he says, voice low.

Ajax swallows as attraction and guilt make a mess of his stomach. Is that supposed to be comforting? 

“Your hands built a nation,” Ajax murmurs.

“And yours take care of your family.”

What is Zhongli playing at? This hot and cold is beyond frustrating. How can he dodge every attempt to reconcile further and now say something so devastatingly kind….

“I can’t even hold a kitchen knife without thinking it’s a weapon,” Ajax laughs.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Zhongli says softly, still not letting go. “I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re right.” Ajax, too, could move away. But he doesn’t. The warmth lingering centimeters behind is too comforting, even as it aches. “I know what I’ve done. I’ll never forget and…I’ll never forgive myself,” he finishes quietly.

Is scares him that Zhongli could read his mind, but this isn’t something he needs to hide. It’s easy to admit because it’s obvious. He’s said as much to Ganyu and Diluc and Hu Tao.

And it’s true; he feels like a monster most of the time. He can’t hide how he feels about how he’s killed so many innocent people and never tried hard enough to get out of that life for fear of his family and himself being harmed. There were so many opportunities to escape and he was never brave enough to take them until that fateful night. He was a monster by choice.

Zhongli’s hand slides off his, but he stays there, just behind. Voice quiet, a usually steady, strong thing, with—if Ajax concentrates—the phantom of tiny webbing cracks spreading across.

“I feel the same.”

Ajax tenses again. The…same? What does he have to forgive himself for?

“We’ve both hurt many people,” Zhongli says. “I was never in any place to judge you.”

Zhongli has hurt people? What’s he talking about? What could a victim of genocide who lost his family possibly blame himself for?

It seems Ajax has hit upon something he keeps neatly hidden. Zhongli doesn’t want to talk about himself. It’s clear he’s just trying to comfort him. But Ajax wants to make it clear….

“You keep saying that,” Ajax laughs weakly. “It’s kind to say you don’t blame me, but I don’t think I can ever earn your forgiveness.”

There are other things he could say—how he hates to look in a mirror and see the deadness in his eyes. How good it feels to take his medication and forget everything for a short while. How he still has nightmares where no matter how hard he scrubs, the blood won’t come off his hands.

Zhongli moves now, back to his place beside him at the counter, eyes on him. Ajax doesn’t look at him. These things are easy to say because they’re true, but that doesn’t mean he wants to hear—

“I forgive you.”

Ajax’s hand clenches on the knife as his stupid, stupid heart attempts to burst out of his chest. Fuck, it actually hurts. The burning, tumbling feeling inside him flares.

He doesn’t want Zhongli’s pity or forgiveness. He doesn’t want anything from him. He said that. Somehow, his kindness hurts just as much as his cruelty.

“You don’t have to say that,” he repeats what he said to Hu Tao.

“I’ve already forgiven you, whether you believe me or not.” Zhongli pulls the cutting board towards himself and extracts the knife from Ajax’s frozen hand. “I never hated you, and I deeply regret making you feel that way. I don’t want to be that kind of person.”

He starts chopping the vegetables with elegant precision. Ajax finally sneaks a glance at his face. His golden eyes are hard and serious, fixed on the peppers.

Ajax remembers him saying, I’ve let my past make me say hateful things. Before, he interpreted that as I hate humans because of what they’ve done and took it out on you. But is it more nuanced than that? Does Zhongli blame himself somewhere in the equation?

“I think it’s incredible,” Zhongli continues softly, “that you’re still yourself after everything you’ve been through.”

Ajax folds his arms and leans against the counter, watches him chop. He also said: I used to be a more forgiving person. I’ve let anger and hate make me bitter.

Well, whatever Zhongli thinks of himself, he’s not right about Ajax either.

“I’m not,” Ajax says. He is in no way the person he used to be.

“I do wonder,” Zhongli presses on, “how you can say some things after everything. How you can still be strong. How you can keep fighting.”

What? All that he said about finally being able to make his own choices? It’s true; he’s been filled with an optimism he never experienced before because one way or another, it will all be over soon. The promise of freedom—whether alive or dead—is intoxicating.

But before that….

“I kept fighting all these years because it wasn’t about me,” Ajax says. “I have people to fight for. I can’t let myself despair because it’s all for them.”

Zhongli’s hands pause on the cutting board. And Ajax takes a risk: “You have people to fight for, too.”

He immediately curses himself. What an utterly idiotic thing to say. He’s talking to a god and once again said something as stupid and casual as What’s wrong? What could Ajax know about how Zhongli feels? What comforting thing could he say to someone who’s surely experienced everything this world has to offer?

Zhongli gives him a long look. Something both soft and hard. Not angry. Searching. Something that throws fuel on the fire and turns the tugging into a yank forward.

Something oh so dangerous.

“You—” Zhongli shakes his head. “You are a….”

The pause lasts a bit too long and Ajax tightens his arms, defensive. “What?”

“Strange person.” Zhongli returns to the vegetables. His words are quiet and gentle, and he follows them with a finishing blow: “I think they’d be proud.” 

“Who?”

“Your family. If they knew what you’ve sacrificed for them. I think they’d be proud.”

His previous words were overwhelming, but this is entirely too much. If Ajax was burning before, now he combusts. How could Zhongli know? What has Ajax said to make him—

A distant, hazy memory enters—of his recounting of his past, of guilt spilling out about how he put his family in danger, how they don’t know what he’s done….

Ajax has no idea how to reply. Zhongli must not understand the impact of what he’s saying. It’s a little cruel to say exactly what Ajax needs to hear so casually like that.

Maybe he doesn’t mean it. Maybe he hasn’t meant any of it. The forgiveness and the kindness. But quiet and serious earnesty fills those pools of gold as they focus on cooking….

Ajax can’t breathe. There is something powerful in the air. Something thick and sweet and drunkening. Something that makes him dizzy.

The recognition happens very fast. Very abruptly. Like he’s been stumbling towards an invisible cliff and now he’s tumbling off the edge.

Ajax realizes, too late to scrabble for a ledge, for anything to stop his momentum down, down, down, that he may—

The curtain to the kitchen is swiped aside and Ajax flinches in surprise, the confusing, devastating feeling that was swelling like a balloon in his chest suddenly bursting—

Hu Tao flies into the kitchen like a whirlwind. “Li-Li! Aya!”

Aya? Ajax and Zhongli glance at each other, tension briefly abated.

Ajax tries to catch his breath in the wake of the interruption sweeping in like a cold front to calm the charge of the storm. “Am I Aya?” 

“Yeah, of course,” Hu Tao pants, bent over, evidently having run here.

“How did you get to that nickname?”

She glares at him as she straightens up. “It’s not my fault your name is impossible to work with. Anyway, I was just talking to Rayyan and—” She trails off, frowning at the tension still charging the air. “Did I interrupt something?”

“No,” Zhongli and Ajax say at the same time, which just sparks a massive grin on Hu Tao’s face.

“What are you two up to?”

“Making dinner,” Zhongli says, voice unnecessarily defensive. “Ajax wanted to try to cook something Liyuan.”

“Oh, if he wants to learn about our wonderful cuisine, I would happily volunteer—”

“No,” both the men say together again.

Hu Tao cackles. “You can’t keep me out of the kitchen forever.”

“As long as we value our lives, you shouldn’t be allowed near an open flame.” Ajax smiles, now grateful for the interruption as it cools his burning chest.

“You too, Aya?” She pouts. “Li-Li’s always so mean when I make dinner. But I can cook just fine!”

“Your food comes out suspicious at best,” Zhongli mutters. “Please leave the cooking to us.”

“If you’re so much better, why are the noodles boiling over?”

Their heads snap to the pot, and indeed, white foam is spilling over. Ajax completely forget they were cooking noodles. They’ve been on for too long now.

Zhongli leaps to the stove and whisks the pot off the flame, but it’s too late. He stares into the pot of overcooked noodles and sighs. “We’ll have to find something else for dinner.”

Hu Tao giggles, eyes gleaming. “How could two master chefs forget the simplest thing ever?”

Zhongli sighs again and pinches the bridge of his nose while Ajax feels his face go bright red. “So, what did Rayyan say?”

“Oh! Right!” Hu Tao straightens up. “I was coming to say Rayyan is finished.”

“What?!” Zhongli and Ajax once again exclaim in unison.

“Yeah! They told me to come get you.” Hu Tao grins victoriously. “The device is ready!”

Ajax looks at Zhongli, and all the dark seriousness of their conversation is erased from his golden eyes. He can feel it too—an elation that sweeps both of them off their feet as they share the feeling, pulsing and glowing between them.

Zhongli’s smile turns real. He looks back at Hu Tao. “We’ll be right there. Let us clean this up.”

“Okay, but hurry!” And she’s gone as fast as she came.

The tumbling, crashing feeling only picks up momentum as elation joins it. Ajax feels dizzy. “They’re done....”

“You’ll be free soon,” Zhongli says.

They hold each other’s eyes unflinchingly, wholly, and it’s incredible how intoxicating good news feels when the happy glow of his own emotions is reflected and amplified by Zhongli feeling the same thing.

It’s so often been dark emotions that they get from each other. And that’s natural, when they have so much to worry about, but now as the swell of realization that their plan is succeeding grows and they stare into each other’s eyes....

Drunk on the cascading feelings, Ajax crosses a barrier.

He closes the three feet between them and throws his arms around Zhongli’s neck with a real laugh. Before Ajax can realize what he’s done and regret it, the adeptus is embracing him back with arms tight around his waist.

It only lasts a second before Ajax pulls back, face flushed. But Zhongli doesn’t seem to mind. Their eyes find each other again, magnets always drawn close. The abrupt happiness and hope glitters between them, a thread connected by their gazes.

Ajax opens his mouth to speak, but instead of anything real, out comes a random, breathy: “Are the noodles ruined?”

Zhongli blinks as the moment cracks and then looks back at the pot. “Yes, they’re overcooked.” He sighs. “If the device is ready, we can leave here soon. Maybe we can go to the market and purchase real ingredients. Then we can continue cooking lessons properly.”

“That would be nice.” Ajax turns to the cutting board and sweeps the chopped vegetables into a bowl to keep them safe, ignoring the insane jumping of his heart. “I do actually want to learn.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t much use today.”

“It’s not your fault we didn’t think to get ingredients.” Ajax flashes him a smile. “You’re a great teacher, Li-Li.”

Yet another idiotic thing slips from Ajax’s mouth, this time in the form of Hu Tao’s teasing nickname for Zhongli, and Ajax wonders if a pattern is beginning of him making an absolute fool of himself in front of the former god.

But Zhongli just smiles back. “And you’re a great student, Aya.”

Ajax is too happy from all the things piling up in his chest to fully register just what the fuck is going on between the two of them today. He ignores his warm face and the violent attraction claiming his chest to finish cleaning up.

In the makeshift alchemy lab, Rayyan looks happier than he’s ever seen them. They are slumped over the desk but smiling, a small device in their outstretched hand.

“It’s done.”

Ajax takes it from them. It’s a small, metal device, and he’d be lying if he said he understood anything that went into making it. He holds the precious thing up to the light. There's a metal casing and...tubes? Faint magic glows from within with a whirring sound.

“How does it work?” he asks as Zhongli and Hu Tao gather around.

“Press the button to turn it on, and the signal will be completely jammed.” Rayyan sits up with a victorious grin. “It will make the curse dormant unless the person on the other end of the bond is near you.”

“What happens if they’re near me?”

Rayyan shakes their head. “The entirety of this curse is more complicated than I can handle. The only thing that keeps you connected long-distance is the tracker, which this will block. But when they get close, there are other effects programmed into the curse that could take place. This tracking function is just scratching the surface.”

Ajax knew it wouldn’t be over that easily, and he chooses to take this as good news. As long as the Tsaritsa isn’t near him, the curse won’t work. This is a great start.

“Now that you’re familiar with it, has your mind changed about removing the curse itself?” Zhongli asks.

Rayyan’s eyes narrow in a sympathetic look. “This device just suppresses the effects. Actually removing the curse is a whole other thing. It’s attached to his soul. I’ve never seen something like this before. Removing it would need like…soul surgery.”

Ajax sighs. They’ve talked about this a few times in the two weeks they’ve spent here in the forest, and Rayyan has made it clear that any “soul surgery” would be beyond their capabilities.

“Well,” he says, still cheery, “we can fake my death now.”

“Yes.” Zhongli puts a finger on his chin. “Once the Fatui believe you have failed, they should leave your family alone. I’m sure they will send someone else after me, but we can stay ahead of them while we arrange for your family to go into hiding and find a way to remove the curse.”

“Going into hiding should be easy,” Ajax says. Hu Tao’s friends, the “resistance,” have connections in every country, including Snezhnaya, and will be able to arrange something for his family as they’ve already discussed. Now that the tracker is taken care of, it will be much easier to stay under the Fatui’s radar. But as for the rest....

There will be a time for planning later, Ajax reminds himself. Now is a time to celebrate.

“Thank you so much,” he says to Rayyan. “You’ve saved my life.”

They cross their arms and blush. “You paid me well.” Then a soft smile crosses their face. “It feels really good, to make a difference. You’ve inspired me to be a better person.”

Ajax returns their smile.

“We should celebrate!” Hu Tao says predictably with a wide grin.

“Well.” Ajax sets the device carefully back where Rayyan was keeping it. “Since we have to start dinner over anyway, so why don’t I go hunt? We can make something nice.”

“Yesss!” Hu Tao claps her hands together. “Meat!”

“Are you sure?” Zhongli frowns.

“If we want to celebrate, our current ingredients aren’t enough,” Ajax laughs. “You could finish preparing the vegetables while I get something.”

“Alright.” Zhongli joins the others in their smiles in a warm way that tickles the still-burning fire in Ajax’s chest. “But be careful.”

He says that every time Ajax goes to hunt. He used to find it irritating, a sign that Zhongli didn’t trust him to do something simple and relatively safe. But in the wake of today’s conversation, it’s endearing. It really seems, after it all, that he does care about him.

“I’ll be right back.” Ajax leaves with a smile.

The sun is setting as he descends the tree and ventures deeper into the forest with a hunting bow. After weeks of stress, this full and happy feeling carries his feet fast through the dense undergrowth.

His mind is off danger and on what he’ll cook for dinner. Maybe they’ll cook it together, everyone laughing and chatting in the kitchen. Like the happiest of his childhood memories with his family, everyone crowded in their small kitchen while the fireplace roared, working together....

Soon he’ll be able to cook for his family again. He can make them Liyuan food and introduce them to Hu Tao and Zhongli....

The ghost of a deep voice brushes him: Your family would be proud of you.

Ajax doesn’t think he deserves their pride, but Zhongli saying those simple, powerful words is almost enough to make him believe that everything is going to be okay.

Everything catches up to him as he ventures over a mile from the cabin. Everything Zhongli said today. His clear reluctance to talk about himself but also genuine attempts to comfort....

I forgive you. Ajax's erstwhile victim, someone who’s had everything taken from him by people like Ajax, someone who has every reason to hate him. The words mean so much, enough to make Ajax dizzy.

He didn’t want his forgiveness, but he’s going to strive to be worthy of that statement. Worthy of a future where he’s a normal person. Worthy of his family’s pride.

He’s not there yet. There is still so much he has to make up for, so much he has to fix. It will take years to make amends, and even then, the nightmares will never leave him.

But hope is a devastating, intoxicating thing and even the most broken of souls is not immune.

Everything…is going to work out.

Astoundingly, it takes a mile and a half before Zhongli’s presence fades away. Even with their meditation, it’s hard to look past each other’s energy. The world without his soulmate’s blinding warmth is bizarrely empty. He's become accustomed to the constant press of Zhongli's energy accompanying him.

He starts to scan for game and realizes something is wrong. The warm glow of success distracting his senses isn’t enough to override ten years of training. Abruptly, he senses—

Someone is following him.

Ajax bounds up a large tree, silent and graceful, and perches on a branch. Within a minute, he sees it: a small figure moving through the shadows, clearly following him but not trying to stay hidden. Their outline is dark as the sun sets, but there is an unmistakable hat on the figure’s head and an all-too familiar aura flooding his senses.

Ice lights his entire body. If that’s who he thinks it is….

Ajax lets loose an experimental arrow directly at the figure’s head. And he would know the defensive move that follows anywhere—the burst of anemo, a swipe of green wind that slices the arrow clean in two.

And then the figure looks up and under the hat are blue eyes that darken in anger. “Childe, what the fuck was that for?”

Ajax tries to calm his racing heart as he drops out of the tree and approaches. There is no hiding from....

“Scaramouche.” Ajax wills the tension and panic to leave his body as he folds his arms in an attempt to look sulky, not terrified. 

“Is that any way to greet your old mentor?” Scaramouche lowers his hands, but a weapon is still present in the flash of his knife-smile. He looks the same as ever, short and angry.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Ajax asks.

“I could ask you the same question, dear apprentice.” The shorter man steps closer and his eyes burn as he surveys Ajax. “We’re all very curious what you’ve been up to.”

“How did you find me?”

“You know we can track you,” he snorts. “What’s this telegram you sent Pierro?”

“You came to find me because of the telegram?” Ajax tries not to show the relief that crashes over him. So they don’t suspect his betrayal? Scaramouche is just checking in? “I thought you weren’t Pierro’s errand boy? Did he send you to babysit me after all?”

Despite the glaring danger, Ajax is unable to resist falling into his usual jabs at his ex-mentor.

Scaramouche’s eyes tighten in anger. “Watch your mouth.”

“I’m not wrong, am I?”

“What you are is a pathetic excuse for a Harbinger,” he retorts and moves a step closer. “Why the fuck have you taken over a month to track down a single man?”

The insult doesn’t faze Ajax. In fact, considering everything, it’s a compliment. And it seems he hasn’t been following him for long, hasn’t found the cabin. “Like the telegram said, I need more time.”

“For what? Have you not managed to find him?”

“No, I found him,” Ajax says carefully. “And he ran. I’ve been following him.”

Scaramouche scoffs. “And?”

“I’m not going to rush a confrontation until I’m sure I can take him. Isn’t that what you taught me? Patience?”

“I didn’t teach you to be a coward, ” Scaramouche growls. “Do you understand how important this mission is? And you’re fucking around, wasting the company’s time? Dragging me out to the middle of nowhere to make sure you’re doing your fucking job?”

“I’m taking this seriously.” Ajax knows stirring up his highly dangerous superior probably isn’t a good idea, but it would also be out of character for him to submit. “I’m taking my time because it’s important. Do you want to report back to Pierro that your apprentice failed his first job because you rushed him?”

“It’s been over a month, idiot. How much time do you need?”

Ajax grits his teeth. “I know you’d love for me to get myself killed, but we both know I can’t beat Morax in a fair fight. I need to set a trap.”

Scaramouche looks like he’s about to combust and kill Ajax himself. “All those years I wasted training you and you can’t even do one fucking—” He cuts himself off with a shake of his head. After a deep breath, his voice turns low and dark. “Where is Morax now?”

Panic surges, but Ajax tamps it down with the control that’s made him a successful assassin all these years. “I think he’s headed to the desert.”

Scaramouche surveys him, dark eyes gleaming. “Well, I’ve come all this way already. I’ll—”

“I don’t need your help,” Ajax interrupts. Fast. Too fast.

“You sure?” His ex-mentor gives a smirk that teeters on the edge of violence. 

“I have a plan,” Ajax says.

“Really?” His eyebrow arches. “‘Cause I’d just hate for you to die. Then I’d have to step in and take Morax and all the glory for myself....”

In a past age, Ajax knows Scaramouche would never stand a chance against Zhongli. But the ex-god seems reluctant to take up arms again, while the Harbinger is at the height of his power....

The thought of them fighting sends such a powerful emotion raging through his core that Ajax nearly blows his cover with a retort for Scaramouche to stay away from him. So this is what Zhongli meant by protectiveness getting in the way....

He settles for something similar but more in character. “You think you could beat a god one-on-one?”

Ajax’s ability to set Scaramouche seething is uncanny. Energy flickers around his fist as he grabs Ajax’s shirt and slams him into the ground with little effort. Ajax doesn’t resist. He can taste blood from biting his lip but doesn’t react, even as Scaramouche leans over him with a burning look that would cripple a lesser man.

“You make me waste my time and my breath. I see I forgot an important lesson in respect, little brat,” he says, voice low and deadly. “I was born to be a god and I will take Morax’s power one way or another, whether you live or die in the process, so shut your insolent fucking mouth and listen well.” He leans closer and his aura radiates bubbling, insane flickers. “You have one week to capture him. If you don’t have him by then, the mission is mine and your position in the corporation will be reviewed. You understand what that means, right?”

Against every instinct to say something cheeky, Ajax nods. He’s always known the price of a failed mission. His life and his family’s will be forfeit.

Scaramouche straightens up with a leer turned gleeful. “Do you know, little Ajax, what has always made you weak? It’s not a lack of power, you have plenty of that. I knew from the moment I took you on that you didn’t have the ruthlessness to succeed. Your pathetic human emotions hold you back. You’ll never be strong if you fight only to protect others.”

Is he talking about his family? Ajax can see the threat glowing in his eyes. Scaramouche has always known what matters to him most, the one thing that kept him in the Fatui’s servitude all these years.

“If you can’t take what you want without mercy, you will be crushed under the boots of those who have the will to ascend. That is the nature of this world, the only thing that matters.”

Scaramouche turns to leave, and despite the heat of summer, a cold breeze rushes from him at the motion. “If you still can’t understand that simple fact, then I’ve not failed at training you, you were defective from the beginning. Consider this my final lesson.” He fades into shadow with a few last words. “I’ll be waiting in the city. Take him. Or die trying.”

The sun is gone and night has set in as Ajax sits up and wipes blood from his mouth. Like its bitter taste, his hope has condensed into hard determination.

How ironic for Scaramouche to call him weak for the very same thing for which Zhongli just called him strong. If anything, it stokes his spirit, it solidifies his choices, it makes him realize that though he thinks himself a monster, he has merely been a tool of true monsters. And now is his chance to be free.

As long as he fights for others, he’ll never be worthy of the title of Harbinger. Instead, he may actually be worthy of Zhongli’s forgiveness.

Hope is intoxicating, but it is also bitter.

He stands, hunting forgotten, a much harder task ahead.

A week.

They have a week to fake his death. If not, the Fatui will kill his family.

And with the decisive fall of the blade, their peaceful vacation is over.

Chapter Text

In the open heat of the desert, the sun claims the land and forgives nothing. Any mistake made in this dangerous land means death for its visitors.

The sun is scorching even as it sets. It lights the world in red and makes the sand glow. The barren emptiness is a sea of scarlet flames, the sky above ripped to dark blue. As the simmering warmth drains from the land, the moon begins its climb in the east.

Today, the entire world is hostile. Today, if Zhongli makes a single mistake, his life and the lives of everyone he cares about will end.

On a wide, empty stretch of sand leading up to a small temple, Ajax stands before him, weapons drawn.

A blade of pure water, glistening in the glaring sun, is pointed at Zhongli. A weapon ironically crafted from that life-giving resource most scarce in the desert. The tinge of golden sunlight turns its blue to red as if already filled with blood.

Ajax’s figure glows in the light that comes from behind Zhongli, his hair a bright flame that surely marks him for miles. Ajax’s voice, usually soft, is now a harsh taunt that carries through the empty air.

“Did you think you could outrun me forever?”

Zhongli draws his own sword from the air. Unlike Ajax, who wears casual, loose clothes, he is wearing tan robes that cover his body, a hood pulled over his head. Robes stolen from some Eremites miles ago, suited for the desert days and nights. Best to hide his appearance as much as possible.

Without speaking, he dashes forward to engage the human.

They can’t hurt each other, so this fight had to be carefully choreographed beforehand. If they improvised, their bond would stop their arms from any violent movement towards each other. As their target observes the fight, he would notice how their blows glance around each other.

So they treat it as a dance, a performance. And the bond allows it, provided only their weapons make contact with each other.

It’s a dance, Zhongli repeats as he slashes forward. I can’t hurt him even if I tried.

If this were a real fight, he wouldn’t use a sword. Swords are ceremonial, decorative. Spears are for real battle. His weapon of choice speaks to the staged drama as Ajax counters with dual blades.

They dance as fluid as water. Zhongli realizes just how useful their meditation was because he can almost feel Ajax’s movements through the air, each advance and retreat, every lunge and pass, each parry and counter. Their bodies follow the rise and fall of their energy, perfectly in sync, and every step feels natural.

Ajax presses an attack, movements so fast that Zhongli lets his mind go and reacts on pure instinct. They dance back across the sand—up and down, back and forth, left and right….

The drama between them may be fabricated, but the tension in the air is not. Real emotion—fear, stress, desperation—pulse between them with the intermingling flow of their energy.

When Ajax showed up a few days ago, blood on his lips and fear in his eyes, it felt as if the world was falling apart. Zhongli had felt the small blow from miles away but assumed that Ajax had just tripped or something while hunting. No need for concern.

But then he returned and upon seeing his stricken expression, Zhongli rushed to his side and took his face in his hands and an unbidden growl sprang from him: “Who did this to you?” Who made you bleed? 

Ajax let him examine his split lip while he explained to the group—just a moment before absorbed in cheerful dinner preparation—that his old mentor had caught up to them and demanded Morax be brought in within a week.

So here they are with everything at stake and Zhongli’s anger and desperation are not in any way fabricated.

As their “fight” carries on, he can sense a dark, foreign presence somewhere off on the dunes. Watching.

Ajax told Scaramouche yesterday that he would confront Morax at this location. Ajax knew he would come, knew he would want to watch his former apprentice fall and take on Morax himself when he failed. It is important that the other Harbinger witnesses Ajax die or it won’t be believable.

That enemy presence is enough for Zhongli’s acting to feel real. So far, they’ve managed to avoid any Fatui, but the thought that a man who hurt Ajax—not just this week but over and over again throughout the years—is nearby is enough for every motion to be filled with hate.

And not just Ajax but also….

“Zhongli,” Ajax had said quietly as they set out for the desert. “There’s something you need to know.”

He told him then that it was Scaramouche, along with il Dottore and others, who kept Ganyu and Xiao imprisoned. Who had tortured and drained them for profit. While Ajax had captured his children, it was the man watching from the dunes who made their lives a living hell.

“You can’t kill him today.” Ajax’s eyes were soft. “We need him to report back that I’m dead.”

“I know,” Zhongli said. He had suspected this. He had prepared himself.

But while such a thought before had taken the wind out of him, now Zhongli felt something stir. An ember buried in the sand flaring ever so briefly back to life.

Ajax’s hand was on his arm and—they had certainly been touching more these days, hadn’t they?—his words were the strangest comfort. “I’m so sorry.”

“We can’t help Xiao and Ganyu now,” Zhongli said. “But we can get you and your family to safety. That is enough for me.”

And Ajax merely said “today.” Someday, the two of them will rescue his children. Someday, they will enact justice.

Today is about survival.

So the dance continues. A blade of water and a blade of stone clashing again and again, now with an audience.

Zhongli hates that Ajax is using his delusion. Not for the reasons Ajax thinks—seeing him use “stolen” magic—but because he knows how it hurts him. But Zhongli also can’t help but admire how elegant Ajax is when he fights, even staged.

These hands are used to destroying. But martial arts are just that—an art. And it’s clear that Ajax is a master of many weapons and styles. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. He’s just a human, has had only a decade to learn, and yet is graceful and dexterous and precise while also passionate and energetic. It’s impressive and awe-inspiring and…beautiful.

There are several aspects of their plan that Zhongli isn’t happy with.

It is subtle, their deceit. As they flow across the sand, Ajax allows his own blade to swipe across his side and spill blood. Their observer is too far away to notice more than the blood on the sand and a new limp to Ajax’s movements. Zhongli hates this, but it is necessary.

At long last, their seemingly desperate battle draws to the climax they planned as Zhongli pretends to give up toying with his prey. He slams a hand to the ground and sand erupts all around them.

Sand is stone, of course, and he is lord of stone.

Scaramouche will not be able to see what happens in the cloud. And when the dust settles, Ajax will have collapsed and Zhongli will stand victorious over him.

Somewhere in the blinding rush of sand, Ajax downs a small potion made by Rayyan. It cuts off elemental flow, masking a person’s aura. It’s dangerous to use for long, as all organic beings in the world are reliant on the elements. But it shouldn’t have much of an effect in the short time they need to get away from Scaramouche.

Ajax also uses Rayyan’s device at this moment, the culmination of weeks of work, the precious solution that everything is relying on. It’s a strange, sudden snap. Zhongli feels it in his own mind—like a string, a cord has been cut, along with a small, resistant hiss. There will be time to examine how his soul looks later. For now….

The small sandstorm whirls in a golden glow, all alight in the setting sun until Zhongli wills it to drop. As everything settles and the sand clears, Ajax lies dead before him. From a distance, he isn’t moving, his aura has disappeared, and the curse is seemingly cut.

Zhongli crouches by the “body” and pretends to check his pulse. Ajax is limp on his side, his wound still leaking blood onto the sand. But he’s smiling a soft, reassuring smile. Zhongli’s fingers linger on his neck for a moment as they share the smile. Now it’s time for the hard part.

Zhongli extracts the delusion from his belt and stands to hold it to the dying light.

As planned, the sinister presence grows as the other Harbinger approaches. He stops a hundred feet away to see the dead body of his former apprentice and the god he was tracking standing over him. The sand is covered in blood, Ajax’s energy has disappeared, and Zhongli is holding his delusion. For all appearances, Ajax has been defeated.

“Morax!” He must have done something to amplify his voice because it booms over the sand. True anger echoes in it, a rippling, dark thing.

The hood is covering Zhongli’s face, but he shifts his head to appraise the newcomer. Scaramouche is a small figure, dressed in black with a large hat. His aura is strangely familiar and impressively strong even at this distance.

“Step away from him!” the voice booms, and Zhongli is shocked at how it sounds almost upset. Ajax made it sound like his mentor hated him.

Well, if Scaramouche does care, it will only bring him further into their trap.

In response, Zhongli enacts the next step. He holds up the delusion—symbol of the Fatui’s power—and shatters it. The glistening shards fall to the sand with a toss of his hand. They sparkle like precious jewels in the sunset.

Scaramouche takes up a defensive posture, but still he doesn’t attack. He’s scanning Zhongli, the terrain. It will take more to get him to advance....

Zhongli flicks a hand and the sand responds. In the whirl of another tiny sandstorm, it draws up to encase Ajax in a thin layer of stone. With breathing holes, of course, but Scaramouche can’t see that. When the sand dissipates, it looks to the other Harbinger as if his corpse been turned to stone.

“Morax!” The voice is a raging scream now, and Ajax’s old mentor finally charges forward in a swirl across the sand. As soon as he crosses the threshold, Zhongli closes his eyes and moves—

The earth itself responds to his call.

With a great rumble, the sand collapses, the stone beneath spreading out in large cracks from where Scaramouche is standing. The sand shifts, everything in a massive, two-hundred foot radius crashing down into the fragile tunnel system below.

The earth gives in and all goes tumbling into darkness.

***

“Put me down!” Ajax complains. “I’m fine!”

“Just a little longer,” Zhongli replies.

“I can walk!”

“It’s faster like this.”

Indeed, Zhongli’s current human form can run up to the speed of a horse even while carrying a full grown man. He tapped into his power to give himself as much stamina as possible. It is imperative that they get as far away as fast as possible, and Ajax wouldn’t be able to run this fast even uninjured.

The fall will only have slowed Scaramouche, and although they gave him no trail to follow, Zhongli will not stop running until they’re on the other side of the desert. Hopefully, he stops to search the wreckage for Ajax’s fake body, but they can’t count on him not pursuing immediately.

The sun has long since set as Zhongli races over the moonlight-drenched sand. The moon is high in a clear sky full of countless stars, and the wind has turned cold. An ethereal stillness has settled dark over everything to the horizon.

On Zhongli’s back, Ajax tightens the arms wrapped around his neck in a possibly retaliatory move. It is by no means a smooth ride, and Zhongli can feel the twinge from Ajax’s self-inflicted wounds at every jolt as well as the vague ache from using his delusion. As much as Ajax insists he can walk, he’s hurt and the elemental potion has sapped his strength. Zhongli won’t let his pride get in the way of their safety.

“Zhongli,” Ajax mutters into his shoulder. “It’s been two hours.”

The adeptus only tightens his grip on Ajax’s legs that keeps him securely pressed to his back. “We’ll stop soon.”

“Soon” ends up being another hour, until they reach a smattering of rocks that stands lone in the empty, stony sea. A single scraggly bush pokes up from the sand, an indication that there’s water to be found.

Good enough shelter for now. He tries to let Ajax down gently, but he’s more exhausted than he thought and they both go tumbling onto the sand.

Zhongli finds himself panting and dizzy on the ground. The day took more out of him than he expected, and he forgot that he is no longer the near-invincible being he once was. Using too much magic is dangerous—it will drain his strength and possibly leave him comatose again—but they had to get away.

If only he could still fully transform, he could have flown them away with ease....

“Zhongli,” Ajax murmurs. “You’re kind of heavy.”

He comes back to his surroundings to realize he’s partially trapped Ajax underneath him. He tries to sit up only for a wave of dizziness to turn it into a half-roll. Face down in the sand, still crushing Ajax’s arm.

Ajax has the audacity to laugh at him. It’s a nice laugh, light and airy.

“I apologize,” Zhongli murmurs, eyes shut.

“I don’t think I can move either,” Ajax says.

Ajax’s wounds come back to his mind in a rush and Zhongli forces himself to sit up. Dizziness almost wins again, but he squints through it to see....

“You’re bleeding.”

“I’m fine.”

“Ajax,” he says, too tired for an argument.

The human also sits up with a wince and feels his side. It’s a shallow cut but long, up across his ribs. Ajax claimed he knew how to draw a lot of blood without injuring himself. Realistically, the more evidence for his death, the better. But Zhongli doesn’t have to be happy about it.

At least they planned for this. Zhongli pulls out the bandages and small tube of ointment he had stored in the large pockets of his desert attire. “Take off your shirt, we need....”

He takes in their surroundings properly. The sand is pale, almost white in the startling moonlight and dappled with shadow, and it stretches unbroken to the horizon. The sky above it is a vast, empty void dotted with the brightest stars Zhongli has seen since he woke from hibernation. A slash of purple cuts across the deepening blue.

They’re sitting next to a small group of rocks. They reach only ten feet high, but one curves slightly to create some semblance of shelter. There are no signs of life other than the bush. That should be enough.

He focuses on the ground near the bush. There is water here, deep within the earth. With the last of his strength, he calls to the stone, solidifies it, and drags up some water in a makeshift bowl. Purified as it’s drawn through sand.

Ajax stares at him in wonder. “How…?”

“I don’t have to hide out here. No witnesses for hundreds of miles,” Zhongli says. “I can do as much magic as I want. Now, shirt?”

Ajax blinks, remembering, and then pulls off his shirt. “I can do that,” he says as Zhongli shifts next to him with the bowl.

Zhongli is too exhausted to argue. He ignores Ajax and wets a strip of clean cloth, motions for him to move his arm.

Ajax lets him clean and bandage the wound. His skin is concerningly warm, bordering on feverish, and he shivers whenever Zhongli touches him.

“We shouldn’t have waited so long. I’m sorry.” Zhongli smooths his fingers over the fresh bandage to wrap it tight.

“It’s okay.”

Zhongli sighs. “I don’t think it’s infected, but when we get back to civilization, we’ll get proper medicine.”

“I’ve been through a lot worse,” Ajax laughs.

Zhongli scowls. Why must he always be so flippant about his own health? “So?”

“So you don’t have to worry.” Ajax’s hand brushes his where it fusses with adjusting the bandage. Somehow, that small motion extinguishes the annoyance brought on by pure exhaustion, and Zhongli feels himself deflate.

“Do you think it’ll fool him?” Ajax’s eyes search his as his hands withdraw.

“We can’t know.” Another wave of dizziness hits Zhongli as he sits back. “But we did our best. Everything went well.”

Scaramouche walked right over the tunnel system they’d identified earlier. They had planted a stone statue in Ajax’s likeness in the tunnels below. When the earth collapsed, it appeared as if Ajax’s stone corpse fell down. Zhongli hopes it survived the collapse enough to be identifiable. Along with the blood and the shattered delusion, it should be enough proof that Ajax died.

The only hiccup in Zhongli’s initial plans for faking Ajax’s death was how to make a fake corpse. But Hu Tao had suggested pretending to turn him to stone, which was something Morax could easily do for real. Since Scaramouche watched him do it, he ought to be fooled when he finds the statue.

Ajax pulls his shirt back on with a wince. The potion’s dulling effect on their connection has faded, leaving Zhongli to fully feel his injuries. Including the ache from using magic.

The delusion was also an important part of their plan. Another means of identification. Scaramouche would never think that Ajax would let someone break it. At first, Zhongli was happy that this meant that he couldn’t hurt himself anymore, but Ajax said he can steal another one later. Not a great loss.

“Here.” Zhongli tucks the remaining bandages and ointment back in his pockets and finds the small pill he also stored there. “Your medication.”

Ajax takes it from him with a small smile and swallows it with a gulp from the bowl of water.

“Let’s rest here for a few hours,” Zhongli says. He doesn’t want to admit that he can’t run anymore. “We’ll meet Hu Tao in the morning.”

“Okay." Ajax nods, looking just as exhausted as he is, then offers him the bowl. "Water?”

He shakes his head. “You can have the rest.”

“What about you?”

“I don’t need as much material sustenance as you.”

Ajax frowns. “You eat the same amount as we do.”

“Food helps, but it is not essential. My main source of sustenance is the ley lines. The qi within the earth.”

The human’s frown deepens in concern. “But most ley lines have been drained.”

“Yes....” Zhongli sighs. “These days, I am in a state of constant malnourishment. Food helps somewhat, which is why I eat regularly. In the old days, I would only eat for pleasure or celebratory occasions.”

“You’re malnourished? Is that why you’re—”

“So weak?” He laughs slightly. “Yes. I can barely transform, barely connect with my magic. I am but a hollow shell of what I used to be.”

Washed-out by bright starlight, Ajax’s eyes are a dull blue. A forlorn blue. Zhongli can feel his medication kick in as the ache in both their bodies fades. The calm lull makes Ajax’s expression even gentler.

“And now?”

“The qi is bare here.” Zhongli closes his eyes and casts his senses deep into the earth. “As if something catastrophic happened and sapped the land of its vitality.”

“Will you be okay?”

“Yes.” He smiles tiredly. “I am quite hardy. There is some latent energy in these stones that I can absorb if we rest a while.”

“I didn’t even think you could get tired. You never mentioned....”

“I am not omnipotent.” Zhongli finally lays down on the cool sand and it feels like he’s melting into the ground. “I never was. There are no true gods in this world, and every creature’s strength can only stretch so far.”

Ajax’s eyes scan him in a way that sparks warmth even as the desert breeze turns cold. “You still make me feel small.”

“I’m sorry for carrying you, but it was the fastest—”

“No, not literally,” Ajax sighs. “You’re the closest thing there is to a god, and I— Never mind.” He lies down beside him, arms wrapped tight around himself, and looks up at the stars. After a moment, he says in a small voice, “It’s nice to see you like this.”

“Nice to see me exhausted of all energy?”

“No.” Ajax’s soft smile is pale in the moonlight. “Nice to see you normal.”

Zhongli smiles back at him. “Were you under the impression that I was some kind of robot without physical needs?”

“No.” He lets out a breath. “But you haven’t given me any evidence until just now. Even your wounds from that shrapnel healed in a few minutes.”

“That was a minor wound.”

Ajax laughs and gestures to his side. “It was much more serious than this, it would have killed me, and it wasn’t even a scratch to you.”

“There is no point, scientifically speaking, in comparing our bodies,” Zhongli says. “We are different species. You are very durable for a human.”

“Durable?” Ajax scoffs. “I’m trying to compliment you, and you call me durable?”

Compliment? What in what Ajax said could be interpreted as a compliment? Stating basic facts?

“‘Durable’ is also a compliment,” Zhongli argues. “You have been subjected to many things and survived remarkably well. My body is merely doing what it’s meant to do. There is nothing incredible about it. In fact, this current form is the weakest I have been in thousands of years.”

Ajax sighs. “Never mind.”

“I am serious.”

“Yeah, well.” Ajax shivers, then shifts his head on the sand to look around. “Speaking of my durability, do we have anything to make a fire with?”

Zhongli also looks around. Other than a small, dead bush and the things in his pockets, they have no supplies. “No. What do we need fire for?”

“So we—I—don’t freeze to death?” Ajax glares at him. “The desert gets cold at night.”

“Is it that bad?”

Ajax sighs again. “I mean, I won’t die, but it won’t be pleasant.”

“Oh.”

“You don’t happen to be able to start fires spontaneously, do you?” Ajax sits up and crawls over to the bush. “Or is all your magic rock related?”

“Fire is not within my skillset.”

Ajax snaps off a few dead branches, but the pile of wood in his hands is meager at best. “If I had my delusion, I could spark it. But this much wood wouldn’t last longer than a few minutes.”

Zhongli watches him, concerned. “Will you be able to sleep?”

“Probably.” Ajax puts his back to the rock and lies on his good side. “We'll see. At least I’m durable enough.”

“We should get a few hours of rest if we can.” Zhongli also moves further into the tiny outcrop, away from the open sand.

“Shouldn’t we get moving before sunrise?” Ajax asks. “Before it gets hot?”

“The heat and cold don’t bother me. If you don’t mind me carrying you again, it’ll only take a few hours to get back to the others.”

Ajax considers it, frowning, before he sighs again. “Fine, if you think it’s fastest. But are you okay?”

“If I sleep for a while, I’ll have enough stamina to run all day.” Zhongli finds a comfortable position to settle in. “The latent energy in these stones is enough.”

Ajax nods and huddles against the rock. “Okay. Goodnight, then.”

“Goodnight.”

Zhongli can see what Ajax means about the cold as a few minutes wear on and the temperature drops. The moon has shifted in the sky, casting their little shelter into shadow. Now it’s easier to see the sea of stars and the slices of purple and green framing them.

Zhongli closes his eyes and wills himself to sleep. He is utterly exhausted, and the faint hum of energy from within the earth isn’t enough to fuel him until he’s basked in it for a few hours. But try as he might....

He can feel Ajax shivering.

They lie just three feet apart on the sand, and the air between them is cold. Zhongli opens his eyes to see Ajax’s screwed shut, arms tight around himself. His skin is pale and faintly glowing in the shadows.

This isn’t good. He’s injured, and even if he won’t run tomorrow, he still needs rest. Zhongli has already thought of a solution. Ajax may not like the idea, but if it’s for the sake of survival....

“Ajax,” he murmurs. “Are you awake?”

“Yeah” comes a quiet reply.

Zhongli scoots closer across the cold sand. “I won’t freeze,” he says.

Ajax opens his eyes and snorts. “Lucky for you.”

“No, I mean—you can share my body heat.”

“What?”

Zhongli doesn’t want to spell it out, so he just says, “Turn around.”

Ajax frowns at him, but turns to face the rock, keeping his injured side up. Zhongli lies down next to Ajax, then shifts until his chest is close to his back.

Ajax entire body tenses. “Oh.” 

“Is this okay?” Zhongli asks, suddenly doubting himself.

“Yeah,” he says in a small voice. “But it’s still cold.... Come closer?”

Ajax reaches back and pulls Zhongli’s arm, and he obliges, shifts forward until they are pressed together. Zhongli’s chest against his back, his face almost in his hair, and his arm.... Where is he supposed to put his arm?

“Your injury, I don’t want to aggravate it.”

Ajax pulls Zhongli’s arm over his waist. “You’re not touching it here.”

Now they’re fully embracing, every part of them pressed together. Ajax is tense, but warm. His hair smells faintly of blood and also something soothing and natural, like pine. Their identical heights allow them to meld perfectly together.

Zhongli has never been one to be awkward or shy about things like this. While the whirling confusion of thoughts and emotions is often overwhelming, touch is a simple thing. It is unambiguous and comforting. 

But Ajax doesn’t seem to share that opinion, stiff against him even after choosing to draw them closer.

Zhongli wonders why. There is nothing awkward about huddling for warmth. And more to the point—there is nothing strange about embracing a friend.

That thought gives him pause. Is Ajax a friend?

They’ve been chatting amicably for weeks. They’ve been staring into each other’s souls, sharing emotions and thoughts and hinting at the very most personal, deep things below. They’ve even been touching more, sometimes deliberate, sometimes accidental, but welcome.

No, there is nothing strange about this.

A few weeks ago, Zhongli wouldn’t have been comfortable being this close, but at the moment, he is very much comfortable. Ajax seems to be interpreting it a different way. His entire body is tense. 

“Are you sure?” Zhongli murmurs into his hair. “We can find a—”

“No, it’s fine,” Ajax says.

Does he mean that? His breaths are too short, his muscles rigid. 

Zhongli wills himself to relax with steady deep breaths that he’s sure Ajax can feel. It’s even more natural than breathing to sink into Ajax’s energy, to reach out in semiconscious threads of comfort. The parasite is still there on his soul, but it is dulled. It bites less when Zhongli reaches out.

Zhongli relaxes. But as the minutes pass, Ajax doesn’t. It’s clear neither of them is ready to sleep, no matter how exhausted they are. Zhongli considers drawing back, but maybe talking would help.

“Do you think he’ll be the one to hunt us now?” Zhongli murmurs.

“Yeah, seems like it.” Ajax shivers. “He seems determined to capture you.”

“He...sounded upset,” Zhongli says something that’s been bothering him. “When he saw me kill you.”

“Yeah.” Ajax sighs and deflates smaller in his arms. “I really thought he wanted me dead all these years. I didn’t think he had it in him to care.”

“Do you....” Zhongli ponders how to phrase it. “Do you care about him?”

Ajax tenses. “No.”

“It would make sense if you do. He was an important part of your life.”

“He tortured me for years.” Ajax’s fingers fiddle in the sand. “He was never anything but cruel to me.”

“That doesn’t mean he wasn’t important.”

“You’re right.” Another, softer sigh. “I...I don't know, but...he makes me think of what I could have become. I could’ve given in to hate like him if I didn’t have my family. I feel pity for him, I really do.”

It is miraculous, Zhongli thinks, that Ajax never gave in to hate, that he never let the Fatui’s cruelty twist him beyond recognition.

“I don’t know if he can be saved,” Ajax says. “I should hate him. I shouldn’t want to help him, but...well...I was given this chance.” His fingers lightly brush Zhongli’s. “And none of them ever were.”

This chance?

Zhongli remembers, Ajax said to Rayyan about their situation: Sometimes the universe gives you a chance. Sometimes, there’s a moment where you can make a choice. Where you can change everything.

Does that mean...?

“But if you want to kill him someday”—Ajax’s voice hardens—“I’ll be right by your side.”

It’s a statement of support, but Zhongli likes it much better when Ajax is soft, not hard. He hates seeing the bitter, scary deadness in his eyes. It’s much nicer to see a gentle smile or real laugh.

And although revenge is enticing....

“I’m done.” Done fighting. “I just want to get my children out.”

At long last, Ajax relaxes against him. “We will. We’ll save everyone.”

“You sound so....” So confident, Zhongli wants to say.

“So?”

“Never mind.” He finds Ajax’s hand again and squeezes it. “We’re almost free.”

“Yeah.... Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For helping me.” Ajax’s voice is low and sleepy, a gentle vibration through his ribcage.

Zhongli doesn’t know how to reply to that. But thankfully, Ajax’s breathing deepens in the pause and after a minute, he seems to have slipped away.

Zhongli finds his arms tightening as a comfortable silence settles in alongside the dropping temperature. With his soulmate at last soft in his embrace, Zhongli wonders how he managed to ignore it.

He can pretend that this gesture is casual as much as he wants, but it has been hundreds of years since he held someone like this. The way Ajax fits so perfectly into his arms is unmistakably bordering on something more.

Zhongli isn’t one to glorify romance and sex as more important than familial bonds, friendship and community. A partner should not be more than a friend, even if the emotions are more intense. For instance, Hu Tao is very physically affectionate, and there is nothing necessarily more important about an embrace from a partner than a little sister. But while of equal value, he’s not ignorant of how the feeling is completely different.

That “something” is buzzing in his mind now.

Ajax is...fascinating. There could be other words alongside that—mysterious, beautiful, challenging. A paradox.

They are similar in many ways. Guilt bubbles at both their cores. All the people they’ve hurt will haunt them both forever.

But while Zhongli has let his past defeat him, Ajax seems to face their challenges stronger than ever. As if he’s been living in shadow for so long, only now to emerge into the light, renewed.

Days ago, Zhongli wanted to comfort Ajax with the same words he was afforded by Venti: It’s not your fault. He let himself slip too far; the forgiveness he’d been clutching close to his chest escaped and once out of its cage, ran rampant. He said too much. I forgive you.

Zhongli knows they’re getting closer. He can’t claim to be an expert at relationships, but he’s not an idiot. Every boundary he put up he allows himself to cross. He drifts closer, pulled by something magnetic and undeniable, only to drag himself back once he feels himself slipping completely. He has yet to cross the event horizon and be pulled in forever, but some days it feels like only a matter of time.

He almost hates it. Ajax once said, Aren’t all feelings uncontrollable? He wants to say no. He wants to say he has choice, he has free will. He is in control.

But he is not. And he doesn’t know how to live with that.

What is the old saying? You can lead a horse to water but you can’t make it drink. Well, he is the horse, standing at the oasis’ edge. Fate has brought him here, nourishment waits before him, and yet he can’t bring himself to take a sip.

It would be easier if he could get over it all. He knows that. He doesn’t want to feel this way. But he is stubborn and unshiftable as stone, and the only force that can break the will of stone is time.

Or the gentle, insistent will of water. Ajax flows over him, eroding him, shaping him, softening him. Zhongli can feel it. Every conversation, intentional or not, Ajax finds a way to strike at his core, to nudge him in a direction he doesn’t want.

Hu Tao is a blazing fire; her passion has at times moved him. She has to burn much hotter to melt him. Something violent and sudden.

But Ajax is slow and soft, if overwhelming. A steady force of erosion. Even bedrock is eventually broken down by the storm.

And here, in this worn land....

In the sand, a product of erosion....

Every negative thought is easily dismissed in the warmth shared by their bodies, in the rise and fall of their chests, in the smell of Ajax’s hair and how Zhongli’s arm fits perfectly around his waist, in the constant flow of their energies that wells like a spring of life between them....

Having Ajax around doesn’t feel like any kind of punishment at all. It feels right.

Ajax was never a curse.

Sometimes the universe gives you a chance. Sometimes, there’s a moment where you can make a choice. Where you can change everything.

To Ajax, does it feel like the universe planned this? Is their bond his salvation?

Zhongli has only ever considered it a mistake, an inconvenience. But if this works out, Ajax’s life will be saved. His family will be safe. He’ll be free.

Who is Zhongli to deny him that?

The universe gave us a chance.

And for Zhongli? Ajax has been nothing short of an inspiration with his strength in the face of hopelessness. You have people to fight for, too. That beautiful smile that shines through the cracks of oppression, a complex, layered soul that invites curiosity and challenge—

Is this…an opportunity to make a difference? Can he do something good? Protect someone? By saving Ajax, by coming to terms with how the world has changed in their almost symbolic union....

The universe gave me this chance to face my past.

Ajax isn’t a curse. Is he...a blessing?

A challenge to change me? An inspiration?

It feels ridiculous as soon as he thinks it. There are no true gods out there. No one pulling the strings. Fate may exist, but it isn’t some conscious being playing with their lives.

But heavens, if it doesn’t feel like....

He wants to run from this. It feels like a wave, a tsunami come to wash his foundations away, the end of the world and the birth of a new one.

He’s always hated change. There is a reason that stone resists. There is a reason to hold on while everything falls apart. While the shifting tides obliterate control. While everything he stands for shatters.

That reason is fear. He is the horse, and the water looks like death.

And yet.

It feels so right.

Ajax is soft and soothing and beckons him closer like a riptide. A wind to knock him off his feet. A bolt of lightning to wake him up. A light to fill an empty sky.

It truly has been years.

And oh, does it feel like betrayal. To hold a human like he used to hold his husband killed by humans.

There is the ultimate catch. The shadow on the wall that sends him running.

As the soft, exhilarating feeling emerges, so is it tainted with guilt. Nothing to do with Ajax. Not his fault in the slightest.

Zhongli’s soul is carved by grief. A quiet, devastating thing that smothers the light. Every flicker of happiness. Every move towards normalcy.

It wraps around the blessing in his arms with poisonous, dark whispers and tells him, Not for you. You don’t deserve him. You don’t deserve happiness.

Never again is he allowed those feelings when he failed the ones who came before.

Ajax is asleep now, his breathing steady, his soul quiet. Zhongli presses his forehead into his hair and whispers, “I’m sorry.” Yet again apologizing. It’s all he can seem to do.

“I want to try,” he says. Try to be the soulmate you deserve.

He’s not ready. He knows that.

Promises are contracts, and now he wants to force his own hand.

“I promise to try.” Try to at least spare you of the burden of my past. Try to create something positive between us. Try not to be afraid.

It could be so easy. To tear up his roots and let the tide wash him away. But his roots are chains, and all feelings are uncontrollable.

In the end, he is powerless between a past that won’t let him go and a future he doesn’t know if he wants. Push and pull. They tear him apart and—

Enough.

As much as he told himself that touch was simple and unambiguous, Zhongli realizes that he’s laid here overthinking what it means instead of sleeping.

The night is cold. Ajax is warm. Zhongli is exhausted. He snuggles closer and tries to think of nothing else but a half-spoken promise.

Chapter Text

“Everyone, listen up!” Hu Tao slams her hands on the table. “I have an announcement!”

Ajax and Zhongli are startled out of their conversation, the tea set neatly on the table before them almost spilling from Hu Tao’s slam.

“It’s my birthday tomorrow!” She frowns sternly. “Did neither of you remember?”

The men glance at each other and Zhongli opens his mouth to reply, but Hu Tao is already huffing.

“Li-Li, you’ve always been a shit brother, but you, Aya? This was your first test as my honorary brother and you’ve failed me.”

Ajax also opens his mouth, but Hu Tao sets off pacing in the tiny kitchen, arms folded, expression cross. “This is my most important birthday ever! I’m turning 18, becoming an adult! I’ll be freed of the shackles of Zhongli’s guardianship!”

Ajax glances at Zhongli, whose eyes are close to rolling. He smirks and looks back at the angry teenager. “You never told me when your birthday was.”

“The 15th!!” She stops and points at him. “Remember it well!”

“Okay, okay.” Ajax maintains his smile even as she scowls. “Got it.”

Hu Tao glares at him a second longer before something occurs to her and she blinks. “Wait, when is yours?”

Ah. It’s never come up, has it? Ajax feels his smile grow sheepish. “The 20th, actually.”

“What?! OF THIS MONTH?!” Hu Tao exclaims. “We’re birthday twins and you never told me?”

“Again, we’ve never talked about—”

“I can’t believe this! We have to celebrate!”

“We’re on the run, Tao-Tao,” he points out.

“So?” She crosses her arms again. “We’re going to be on the run forever. That won’t stop me from throwing a party.”

Zhongli clears his throat but is quickly overrun.

“Let’s go to the market and get supplies!” Hu Tao’s eyes gleam. “I want jade parcels and hotpot, how about you, Aya? I think Zhongli should do all the work because it’s our birthday, but—”

“Hu Tao,” the adeptus finally interrupts. “I would love to make you both a nice dinner, but it’s dangerous to go into town.”

“Is it that dangerous?” She pouts. “I’m sick of eating plain fish. Can’t we buy some spices?”

It’s been two weeks since they said goodbye to Rayyan. With Scaramouche likely on their tail, they’ve moved from place to place through the forests of Sumeru and towards the mountains of southern Liyue.

The past two weeks have been a blur. Camping, walking endlessly, every day a march forward until they settled here at this mine.

They are currently occupying an abandoned miner’s cabin near a dried-up mine in southern Liyue. The valley surrounding them is grey and gold, the mountains lining it sharp and sheer. Sandbearer trees paint the landscape yellow and the elegant rock formations reach for heaven.

The only time they’ve entered civilization was for Ajax to make a telephone call to Hu Tao’s friends and confirm that his family was safe.

“Nothing has changed,” Xingqiu told him on the phone. “There’s an agent posted nearby, watching them, but they’re leaving them alone for now. Our Snezhnayan friend says it’s too risky to try to make contact, but she’s ready to intervene if anything changes.”

The sheer relief that his family was okay coupled with deep gratitude led to a shaky reply. “Thank you. I-I don’t know what to say. You’ve—”

“There’s no need.” Xingqiu’s voice was kind. “It’s our duty to protect innocent civilians.”

But it isn’t their duty. The resistance and all their friends are truly good people. This multi-national network of freedom fighters gives Ajax hope that they’ll find safe havens even on the run.

Ajax gave Xingqiu some instructions to pass on to the Snezhnayan contact about his own contingency plans. He had stashed money and supplies in several different safehouses in case the day ever came, and now he tells Xingqiu that their contact is free to use them. If the Fatui make a move, everything is streamlined to get his family out.

“I have news, actually,” Xingqiu went on after. “One of our good friends has heard of some Fatui tech involving demon blood. She’s willing to meet with you and help you.”

Ajax readily accepted. They’ve had no ideas on how to move forward the past two weeks, so anything anyone can tell them will help. He keeps Rayyan’s device on him at all times, but the only clue the alchemist could tell them is that they needed to do surgery on his soul. Where that leads, they have no idea.

Xingqiu gave him a time and place to meet the contact, then wished him good luck and hung up. They are meant to meet her in a few days in southern Liyue, so they’ve been moving that direction.

Ajax only wondered after getting off the phone if the Fatui told his family that he was dead. His stomach seized at the thought. It’s absolutely the last thing he’d ever want to put them through.

His birthday is in a few days…. Ajax always manages to get home this time of year. Even if his family doesn’t think he’s dead, he’s never gone silent this long before. They’re surely worried about him, and there’s no way to tell them he’s alive and well….

It’s almost worse to think of telling them the truth than letting them think he’s dead. He can only hope Zhongli is right and that they’ll be proud of him when the time comes. But there’s no way to tell….

The continued argument between Hu Tao and Zhongli snaps him back to a happier train of thought.

“There are wild chilies out there,” Zhongli says. “We can use them to make something.”

“Li-Liiiiii.” Hu Tao slumps onto the rickety table and the tea jostles again. “It’s my birthday.”

“I know,” he says in a sympathetic voice. “We can still make it special. Have you ever tried boiled qingxin?”

She groans loudly. “Flowers? You want me to eat flowers?”

Zhongli smiles in a soft way that makes Ajax’s heart jump. “My people, the adepti, used to consider it a delicacy. Is the food of the gods not good enough for you?”

Hu Tao collapses off her chair and onto the floor with all the drama of a person who’s been stabbed. Ajax’s tea meets its end as she bumps the table and the tea cup spills.

“Hu Tao,” Zhongli sighs. “We can make it nice.”

She just lets out a wounded groan from the floor.

“Do you see Ajax complaining?”

“Well, I’m an adult,” Ajax mutters.

Her head shoots up and she glares at both of them. “I’m an adult, too!”

“Not quite yet.” Ajax feels his grin returning at her look of outrage.

“If you’re an adult”—Zhongli takes an elegant sip of tea—“I would advise you to act like it.”

“You’re both so mean!” She flops back to the ground. “You didn’t even remember my birthday and now you’re making fun of me?”

“If you had let me explain,” Zhongli sighs, “I would have told you that I remembered. Obviously. I’ve been living with you for almost eight years, how could I forget?”

“Then what were you going to do?” comes her voice from under the table.

“I thought we would have dinner. And I have a gift I wanted to surprise you with.”

“A dinner of what? Unseasoned fish and mushrooms like always? And what present could you have found out here? A rock?”

Zhongli glances at Ajax, and he almost bursts out laughing at the flash of panic in those golden eyes.

The silence is telling enough in itself. Hu Tao pokes just her eyes over the edge of the table, narrowed. “Zhongli…did you get me a rock? Please don’t tell me you got me a rock for my 18th birthday.”

The adeptus’ mouth opens and closes several times before he says, defensively, “It’s a nice rock.”

“Zhongli—”

“I was walking around the mine yesterday and I noticed a vein of some noctilucous jade that the miners must have missed. So naturally, I extracted it and was surprised to find—”

Hu Tao collapses again.

“You should have more respect for the history of this land,” Zhongli huffs. “This ore would be worth millions in purity alone, let alone the rarity.”

“Then let’s sell it at the market!”

“‘Cause that wouldn’t draw suspicion,” Ajax snorts.

The wounded moans of a dying animal come from below the table. Zhongli glances at Ajax, helpless, and he shrugs.

With a long, drawn out sigh and expression of reluctant resolve, Zhongli says, “There is something else I was going to give you.”

“What?” Hu Tao groans.

“We found some homemade baijiu stashed out back. Since you are becoming an adult, I thought it would be appropriate to share a drink—”

Hu Tao’s head pops up at lightning speed, eyes sparkling.

“One drink,” Zhongli clarifies. “As a welcome to adulthood.”

“Really?” She looks far too happy. “That’s all we need for a great party!”

“One drink,” he repeats.

But Hu Tao is already standing up and throwing her arms around him. “Thank you so much, Li-Li!”

With the mood turned around, they plan a small party and gather ingredients. Xingqui’s friend will be arriving in Liyue in two days, but they’re close to their destination on the coast, so they can afford to stay at this cabin another night.

Having a party while Scaramouche is hunting them may not be the best idea, but neither he nor Zhongli wants to argue with Hu Tao. Ajax for one feels quite happy at the prospect. In fact, despite the danger and his family under surveillance, Ajax can’t help but feel light and hopeful these days.

It might be because of Zhongli. Something unspoken is running between them, even stronger than before, and Zhongli has kept up his infuriatingly unreadable warm attitude. Ajax could justify his gesture in the desert as practical, and before, he would have drowned in insecurity about it. But although it was practical, it felt like anything but.

There was no need for them to press so close, to murmur sweet things into the night air, to fall asleep holding hands.

It wasn’t practical. And Zhongli seemed completely comfortable with it. Happy, even.

What did it mean to him? Ajax can’t tell if Zhongli knows just how attracted he is. He wouldn’t do these things—the warm smiles and lingering glances and casual touches—if he had no intention of getting closer. The worry over his healing wounds and offers of help and the way that after Hu Tao falls asleep, he sits quietly beside him and they talk about nothing for hours while watching the stars.

Would he?

It can’t be platonic, all these little things that feed the fire in Ajax’s gut. Zhongli is affectionate towards Hu Tao, of course, but the way he looks at Ajax is completely different. He’s not pretending, is he? Not just being nice?

Ajax hates that he doubts Zhongli’s intentions, but how can he not after the way their relationship started?

It’s hard to trust at all when he’s been conditioned to defend himself for so long. His colleagues and enemies only ever wanted to hurt him, and his family needed protection. There was no opportunity to let his guard down and trust.

Zhongli remains overwhelmingly distracting. Even today, on Hu Tao’s birthday, the warmth of attraction filters everything Zhongli does, paints it in vivid, tingling colors.

The three of them cook together, and Zhongli is once again leaning in, giving advice on Liyuan techniques and spices. His voice engaged as he explains the things Ajax could cook for his family. His body close, a soothing presence that satisfies space Ajax didn’t realize was empty.

They admire the ore he found. Hu Tao admits that it’s beautiful and asks if Zhongli can carve it into something useful. When he asks what she wants, she says, “Surprise me!” So Zhongli asks for Ajax’s advice, says he values his opinion. He invites him to join a meaningful choice that should belong within the family.

They try the miner’s baijiu and laugh as Hu Tao’s face screws up in disgust. While she runs off to find something to help the taste, Zhongli nods at the cup in Ajax’s hand and asks if he’s alright.

It takes him a moment to realize he’s teasing, a deep glimmer in the sea of heavy gold.

“I’m really not a lightweight!” Ajax’s face burns. “That was an accident!”

Zhongli hums, putting his own cup to his smirking lips. “Are you sure? We wouldn’t want you passing out again.”

“There were complicating factors,” Ajax tries to grumble, but his voice is too light, too happy.

“Such as your tolerance?”

Ajax balks. He’s seen Zhongli tease, but it’s a rare sight on the stoic and often melancholic man. “Is that a challenge?”

“No, certainly not.”

“Challenge accepted!” Ajax grins. “Let’s go drink for drink. I’ll have you know that I have done business in Liyue many times.”

A dark eyebrow twitches up. “Oh? And you could keep up?”

“I could drink anyone under the table.”

Zhongli snorts. “Ajax, my metabolism is—”

“Godly, yeah, I know.”

“I am not bragging to say I could drink barrels of this.”

“Sounds like bragging.”

“It’s a fact.” The smile on Zhongli’s face is a dangerous thing.

“Then I’ll have to challenge myself.” Ajax pours himself another cup. Unlike the fancy brands he’s used to, this stuff is objectively bad, a poorly-brewed batch made long ago by the miners who bunked here, but it does the job.

“Don’t pass out again.” For once, Zhongli’s voice is light and not filled with its usual irritating protectiveness. “You’ll ruin Hu Tao’s party.”

“It’s my party too.” Ajax takes a sip. It’s reminiscent of his family’s homemade firewater. He feels nothing from the first cup. He’s genuinely a strong drinker. That day, he knew not to combine his medication with an entire bottle of what turned out to be double-strength wine, but he did anyway and learned his lesson.

Speaking of that day…. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine,” he says. “I wouldn’t make you take care of me again.”

Ajax’s attempt to tease backfires when Zhongli’s smile widens. “Well, that wouldn’t be so bad.”

Hu Tao’s opportune timing in bursting back through the door is the only thing that saves Ajax from choking.

***

Xingqiu’s instructions on their meeting were vague. The time—two days later. The place—a dirty tavern in a fishing village on the southern coast of Liyue. The contact—a pirate.

The three now sit in a booth as said pirate surveys them with a single eye. “So you’re Zhenyu’s friends?”

“Yes, Ms…?” Zhongli begins.

“Beidou.” She waves a hand at him. “And please, no formalities. A friend of Zhenyu’s is a friend of mine.”

“You’re a pirate?” Hu Tao leans forward, eyes wide and excited.

Beidou laughs heartily. “That’s one way to put it. I’m a…smuggler.”

“What’s the difference?”

“I don’t rob people.” She takes a long sip of beer from a large mug, despite it being nine in the morning. “I just move things. Goods, legal or illegal. Money that can’t see the light. People, when they need to go somewhere they’re not allowed. I can get you to Inazuma.”

“Inazuma?” Ajax says.

Beidou’s eyebrow shoots up. “Did Zhenyu not tell you?”

“He only told us he was setting up a meeting with a contact who knew of the technology we’re looking for,” Zhongli says.

“Ah, well.” She takes another sip. “That technology is in Inazuma. I’m good friends with some of the rebels there, and they got their hands on some Fatui tech recently. It matches your description, demon blood and some kind of machine.”

Ajax and Zhongli exchange a glance. A machine? That’s new.

“I’m sure you’re aware,” Beidou continues, “but the situation is pretty bad in Inazuma right now. Tri-Com’s cracking down on the rebels. As of last month, they’ve driven them back to Watatsumi. And the rumors are true—Tri-Com’s outsourcing a lot of their manpower and tech from the Fatui. This is a turn in the war.”

Ajax knew that there was a civil war in Inazuma. He also knew his company was looking to get involved, but the other two look alarmed.

“There’s a war?” Hu Tao asks.

Beidou sighs. “You didn’t know? The foreign news reports it as ‘civil unrest’ but yeah, it’s been a full-blown civil war for two years now. The government’s suppressing anything that comes out of there, news or otherwise, so my job’s gotten harder.”

“The Fatui are involved now?” Zhongli asks.

“Yeah,” she says. “With ‘unrest’ popping up everywhere, the heads of the Tri-Com conglomerate seem to have asked for foreign aid. After all, if one corporation falls, they’re all in danger. With the Fatui’s help, Watatsumi is the only point of resistance left.”

Ajax’s heart sinks at the news. Not only for the oppressed people of Inazuma but also because it seems the Fatui are gaining influence around the world.

“You can still get us in?” he asks.

“Warzone or not, I can get you in.” Beidou’s smile turns a little more cheerful. “The rebels would be happy to meet with you and let you examine the tech. They also need help understanding what it does if you’re willing to work with them.”

“That all sounds good,” Ajax begins hesitantly, “but we’re wanted by the Fatui. How much danger would we be in walking into a warzone?”

Beidou leans back and thinks for a moment. “I can’t guarantee your safety, of course. But the Fatui are actively trying to wipe out the rebels, so if anywhere in Inazuma is safe, it’s behind their defenses.”

Ajax glances at Zhongli again, and his face is set. It’s a foregone conclusion, really, as this is the only lead they have.

“I have some business there, so I’m going to stay with the rebels for a while,” Beidou continues. “I won’t leave without you. And if you need to run, I’ll get you out immediately.”

“That’s very kind,” Zhongli says.

She shrugs, cranberry eye gleaming. “We rebels have to stick together, right?”

“It’s another thing to risk your life for strangers.”

Beidou laughs. “Siblings of the cause are no strangers to me. I take care of every passenger on my ship like they’re my own kin.”

“Can we pay you, at least?” Ajax asks. 

She laughs him off with a wave of her hand. “Pay me back in helping the rebels while we’re there. A chance at a brighter future is all I need.”

Ajax looks at Zhongli and Hu Tao, then meets Beidou’s determined gaze. “Could we have some time to think about it?”

“Of course!” She takes a swig of beer. “If you’re in, meet me at the docks tonight, and we set sail!”

After Beidou finishes her drink and leaves with a wave, Zhongli sighs heavily. “Hu Tao—”

“Don’t you dare.” Hu Tao shakes a finger at him. “I know what you’re about to say, you old lizard, and I’ll remind you that I’m 18 now and perfectly capable of making my own decisions.”

“It’s a warzone.” Zhongli’s eyes are tight.

“I don’t care.”

“I care,” he insists, not unkindly. “You could go stay with your friends. You’d be safe with the resistance.”

“We’re not having this conversation.” She folds her arms. “I told you before, and I’ll tell you again—you’re my family and I’m not leaving you.”

They glare at each other, and Ajax is inclined to agree with Zhongli, although this isn’t a battle they can win.

“We’ll leave at the first sign of danger,” Zhongli concedes.

Hu Tao grins triumphantly, and with that, the decision is made.

***

Beidou’s ship is a surprisingly normal-looking merchant vessel. A small freighter named the Alcor, it's not built to carry passengers and has a small crew, so beyond the two short decks below, there’s only a bridge above deck.

That doesn’t stop Ajax from venturing to the top of the navigation deck and letting the harsh sea wind whip his hair and clothes. It’s a breath of fresh air, literally, and reminds him of his childhood and all the time he spent on fishing boats. The cold is easy to enjoy when he can retreat to the warmth below deck at any time. The view is beautiful, grey waves to the horizon. A storm is growing there, grey clouds hinting towards black.

He’s distracted from the wind and view by the sight of Zhongli in the distance ahead, making his way to the stern. The small crew is almost all below deck right now, as nothing needs doing up here. So Ajax perches on the white, metal railing and watches Zhongli, hoping he doesn’t look around and see him.

After a while, someone pokes their head up from the ladder. “Aren’t you cold up here?”

Ajax turns to see Beidou joining him. Despite her own question, she’s only wearing light black and crimson robes. Her long, dark hair whips around in the wind like an elegant fluttering flag. She leans on the railing next to him and smiles.

“Nah.” Ajax returns her smile. He is cold, dressed only in a suit of light, Liyuan summer fashion, but he’d never admit it. “This is the perfect temperature.”

She looks him up and down. “You Snezhnayan?”

He raises an eyebrow. He’s wearing Liyuan clothes and speaking without an accent. “You can tell?”

Beidou laughs, deep and hearty. “I’ve been around the world a hundred times. Only a Snezhnayan would enjoy these conditions.”

“This was my entire childhood,” he admits with a chuckle. “What about you?”

She looks down at her own clothes. “Me? I’m just used to it. The sea and storm are my home. The warmth when we make port in Liyue is nice, but it isn’t where I belong.”

Ajax nods. “I get that feeling.” From just the three conversations they’ve had, he has a feeling he and Beidou will get along very well. He recognizes in her the same attraction to danger that sang through his veins when he was young and free. Back when danger was a choice and he used to dream of adventure outside his impoverished hometown. If life had treated him differently, maybe he would’ve become a pirate, too.

They stare out at the view together for a moment. Ajax tries to enjoy the scenery of harsh, grey waves to the horizon, but the inescapable draw of his soulmate captures his eyes. Beidou’s gaze also tracks Zhongli to where he stands at the stern.

She looks up at Ajax with a smirk. “Love, huh?”

Gods, is he that obvious? Ajax tells himself the warmth in his cheeks is windburn as he casts around for an explanation. After a moment, he settles on: “It’s complicated.”

“You’re not together?” She laughs. “I thought you were.”

“No…we are not.”

“One-sided?”

He snorts but indulges her nosiness. “Maybe. I can’t tell how he feels. And even if we feel the same way, I don’t know if it would work.”

“Why?”

Ajax looks down at her, and her pomegranate eye is earnest and kind. He sighs. Why not spill his feelings to a new friend?

“Too many reasons,” he says. “Our lives…just aren’t compatible.”

By aren’t compatible, he means that they’re different species, he imprisoned his children and tried to assassinate him, and Zhongli has no reason to get over his own and Ajax’s history. But Ajax will let Beidou think he means that they have different professions or something.

The pirate nods, long and slow. “I get that. I’ve got a similar situation, actually.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I’ve got a girl back home. But it’s, uh, a little forbidden.”

“Forbidden?” Ajax asks.

“She loves money more than me.” Beidou’s smile is sad as her eye reflects the grey waves. “I’d marry her any day if she’d let me, but she’s an important person and can’t be seen with a pirate.”

Ajax frowns sympathetically.

Beidou sighs and grips the railing. “I have to turn a blind eye to everything she gets up to. She’s ruthless.” A weak laugh. “I hate watching poverty grow while she gets rich, but I…just can’t stop coming back to her.”

“She doesn’t care about poverty?”

The pirate shrugs. “It’s hard to say. We both grew up poor and she worked herself near to death to get where she is.” Beidou’s gaze is far away on the horizon. “She let it make her greedy. She thinks she can own everything to make up for being born with nothing.” A pause, then another soft laugh. “And I…I can’t argue with it, even if I know it’s wrong. It’s just what this world does to you, you know? It’s a kind of hunger that consumes you, like a disease.”

Ajax knows. He’s watched it consume his coworkers. One in particular—Pantalone—seems to have decided that being born with an empty stomach is justification to devour the whole world. When the universe gives you nothing, you take what you want from it without mercy.

“And you?” he asks Beidou.

“I guess I escaped the hunger.” Her smile is strained. “I prefer a simple life, I don’t need riches to be satisfied. When I give away my hard-earned meal to someone else, their smile is worth more than going to bed full.”

Ajax nods in agreement. Power and money are attractive, but his family’s love is always worth more in the end. Fighting for them staved off the greed. His coworkers don’t have that same fulfillment, so they seek to fill their bellies with the empty nourishment of conquest.

“Every time we make port, I ask her to run away with me,” Beidou sighs. “It could just be us, the sea, and the limitless horizon. You know, all that we don’t need money, just love .” She shakes her head. “She laughs at me every time. She’ll never choose me, but I can’t stay away.”

“How do you live with knowing she won’t choose you?” Ajax asks quietly.

“That’s just love, I guess.” Something in Beidou’s smile glimmers, a gemstone buried deep in hard bedrock. “It’s something you can’t control, so you have to make the best of it.”

Something you can’t control…. Zhongli might beg to differ, Ajax thinks, with all his declarations on the value of free will.

“But in the end, I’ll defend her to the last.” Beidou sighs heavily. “I tell myself it’s just her circumstances that have made her think this way. She has it in her to be kind and loving. I’m chipping away at her bit by bit.”

“Is it…hard?” Ajax asks.

“Harder than anything,” Beidou laughs. “All I know is I have to try.”

They’re quiet for a moment, gazing out at the sea. Ajax understands the helplessness in Beidou’s words. Love feels like a farfetched concept, but if the rapid development of his feelings is anything to go by, it might only be a matter of time.

Every day, he feels himself inevitably slipping—in some moments plunging down—and if he does fall, there’s no guarantee that Zhongli will ever reciprocate. And if Zhongli does reciprocate in any way, it would only be a facade caused by the bond. Instincts and urges that don’t run deeper than the energy exchange between their souls, like the protectiveness that he’s admitted to. 

Would Ajax feel the same way about him if they met normally and weren’t soulmates? It’s quite possible, he thinks. But Zhongli would never want to associate with someone like him.

As if sensing the toss and crash of his thoughts, Beidou looks up at him. “And you, friend? What’s keeping you two apart?”

He can’t tell her the whole truth, but…. “I don’t know if he even wants to be my friend. Sometimes he’s very warm, and then he closes off.”

“Wait, you’re not friends?” she asks.

“Not exactly.”

“Then what’s going on with the three of you?”

Ajax casts around for the first thing he can think of. “We’re…business partners.”

Beidou’s eyebrow disappears into her hair, clearly not falling for it. “Well, have you asked?”

“What?” Ajax blinks at her.

“Have you asked, ‘Do you think of me as a friend?’”

“N-no,” Ajax sputters. “It’s–it’s too complicated—”

She laughs. “What could be so complicated?”

“He–I—” We were enemies! I tried to assassinate him, and I worked for the people who have hunted his family. And even if Zhongli says he forgives him and that he shouldn’t blame himself, their relationship is a tangled mess where normal rules don’t apply.

Beidou’s staring with an eyebrow still cocked as Ajax stumbles for words.

“I can’t just…ask.”

“Why not?”

“He doesn’t like talking about himself and–and….” The real truth underneath his excuses: “I don’t know if I want to know.”

“Why?” Beidou frowns.

“Hearing his true feelings might hurt,” Ajax admits softly.

Beidou’s gaze turns sympathetic and she opens her mouth, but they’re both given an absolute jump-scare as someone drops down from the roof of the bridge and lands with a metallic clang on the railing beside Ajax.

Hu Tao’s grin is demonic as he nearly topples off to the deck below at the shock. She’s gotten much better at sneaking up on him in the many weeks they’ve spent together.

“Whose feelings?” comes her mischievous sing-song of a voice.

Ajax groans and hops off the railing. “Go away, Tao-Tao.”

“Aya, come on~” Hu Tao takes his place perched on the railing with a smirk. “It’s me, your best friend. How dare you gossip without me.”

“You’re not my best friend.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “And we’re not gossiping.”

Beidou’s head swivels between them, clearly incredibly confused. “So you are friends? Not business partners?”

“Is that what he told you?” Hu Tao’s jaw drops in playful horror. “The betrayal! I thought we were close.”

Ajax decides to play along and smiles. “We’ll be close when you stop trying to scare me like that. It’s rude to eavesdrop, you know.”

“Oh, yeah, speaking of that!” Hu Tao swings her legs as if there isn’t a twenty-foot drop behind her. “You were talking about Zhongli, right?”

Ajax snorts at how readily she ignores him.

“He likes you, I promise,” she says. “He does think of you as a friend.”

“Yeah, I doubt that,” Ajax mutters.

“I’m serious! I know what he’s thinking, even if he won’t say it.”

Ajax sighs heavily. “That’s not encouraging.”

“I’m telling you I can read him. Still waters run deep, y’know?”

Ajax refrains from retorting, I can literally see into his soul and I don’t know what he’s thinking. 

Beidou is watching their exchange with upturned lips. “You should ask him.”

He looks up at the two women—one with an earnest smile and the other a mischievous smirk—and for some bizarre reason, he actually feels comforted. It feels good to have friends.

“I might,” he says, more to end the conversation than anything.

“I’m far from an expert at relationships,” Beidou laughs, “but I know they have to start with talking.”

Ajax tried that, and Zhongli—completely understandably—refused to open up about his past. But a small question might go over better.

“Yeah,” he sighs.

“Love is crazy,” Beidou says. “But I’ll be damned if it doesn’t feel like the meaning of life itself. Something worth fighting for.”

It’s not that simple, Ajax wants to say. If he and Zhongli were two normal people, if their little stolen moments of normalcy as they cook together and watch the stars could be reality, he’s sure he’d agree. But a sky’s worth of grief and guilt stands between them. A barrier of impossible distance.

“You have someone?” Hu Tao asks Beidou.

“I do.” Beidou’s smile brightens like the sun peeking through stormy sea clouds. “I have the most beautiful woman in the whole world to call my own. It’s not easy, but so is anything worth having.”

Hu Tao’s expression softens at that, a glimpse of her wise nature lying below all the teasing. “Sounds nice.” Then she ruins it: “Know anyone available who’s my age? And willing to go on the run for the rest of their life? Wait, Ajax, your sister is my age, right?”

“You are not dating Tonia.” His entire face flushes at the idea.

“Why not?” The devil grin returns. “Wouldn’t that be so cute? We could be double in-laws!”

“Double…?” Once again, it takes him a moment to catch up to—

“You know, you marry my brother, I marry your sister?”

“Oh my gods.” He puts his face in his hands.

“You don’t want to be my brother-in-law?”

“Zhongli would never marry me,” he says weakly.

“But Tonia might marry me,” she muses. “I’m very attractive. Smart, artistic, strong. I’m a successful small business owner.”

“You are ridiculous,” he says.

“Is she into that?” Hu Tao asks, voice dead serious.

Ajax glares at her, but Hu Tao just bursts out cackling and so does Beidou. After he watches the women laugh for a minute, a small smile comes over his own face. Hu Tao is always the flame that cuts through dark thoughts.

“But seriously,” Hu Tao says when she recovers. “If you want to know how Zhongli feels, just ask.”

Ajax stares at them helplessly until she jumps down and starts pushing him towards the ladder. “Go on! Just ask! No pressure!”

“I— Right now?”

“When else?” Beidou says. “He’s over there, all alone.”

“Don’t worry, we won’t spy on you,” Hu Tao says. “I’m going inside anyway, it’s freezing.”

Ajax pauses at the top of the ladder, mouth opening and closing stupidly. But the sight of their supportive smiles sparks in his chest a new kind of warmth he’s never felt before.

Hu Tao gives him a thumbs up. “Good luck, future brother-in-law!”

Ajax rolls his eyes as he descends the ladder. He’ll go talk to Zhongli to appease them, but whatever the two of them say, he’s not going to outright ask Are we friends? He looks back to see Beidou and Hu Tao disappearing back below deck as he makes his way to the stern.

Zhongli looks like something out of one of those moving pictures from Fontaine. He stands at the stern with hands clasped behind his back, clothes dark against the pale grey sky, hair whipping like a stream of ink in the wind.

He turns with a smile as he approaches, and abruptly, Ajax isn’t cold at all.

“These ships are much faster than I’m used to,” Zhongli says once Ajax joins him. “It used to take two weeks to sail to Inazuma on the finest vessels. Now we’ll be there in a few days.”

“You wouldn’t fly?” Ajax leans on the railing, glad of the neutral conversation topic. “You know, as a dragon?”

Zhongli looks over at him, still smiling. “When I traveled alone, yes. But not on state visits. Humans can’t fly.”

“Well, I don’t know about that these days,” Ajax says. “Did you know the Fatui’s trying to invent something called an aeroplane?”

Zhongli frowns. “Aeroplane?”

“It’s like…an automobile with wings. Like a huge bird that people can ride,” Ajax says. “It might be able to fly over the ocean.”

He lets out a small huff. “Then humanity has truly torn down the gods and taken our power for themselves.”

Ajax laughs. “I don’t think an aeroplane could compete with a dragon. Could machines be the subject of worship?”

“Maybe.” Zhongli’s smile returns. “In a godless world, humans must find some kind of religion.”

“Yeah, that’s true.” Ajax stares out at the horizon. Greed would be this new world’s religion.

“Speaking of dragons,” Zhongli says, and his voice is suddenly hesitant, “do you remember what Hu Tao said about our energies?”

Ajax looks back at him. “What about our energies?”

“That I had too much yang, and you had too much yin?”

Ah, yes, that conversation on the train. The one that ended in Zhongli saying he had no interest in being friends. How timely to bring up just as Ajax is considering asking what he thinks now. “Yeah, I remember.”

“I’m sure you’re aware, but balance is important in Liyuan culture.” Zhongli looks almost…nervous? “Dragons are associated with yang energy and the sun. And so historically, I am.”

“Right,” Ajax says, wondering where he’s going with this. “That thing she said—that we’re yang and yin, the sun and moon?”

“Exactly.” Zhongli nods. “Well, now that I have you alone for once, I, er…I found something in the market before we boarded the ship.” He pulls a long, narrow box from inside his coat.

Ajax stares at the box. “What’s this?”

“Tomorrow is your actual birthday, right?” A smile sneaks over the hesitance in his eyes, and Ajax’s heart swells. “I would wait until tomorrow, but I think Hu Tao would make fun of me if I gave this to you in front of her.”

Zhongli holds it out to him.

Ajax just blinks, frozen. He had come over here considering confronting him, and now Zhongli is the one with an offering?

“I–I’m turning 25, Zhongli,” he says weakly. “I’m not a kid, I don’t need a present.”

“Well, think of it as training.”

Training? Ajax takes the box out of pure curiosity—ignoring the positive slamming of his heart against his ribcage—and opens it. Inside is…a pair of chopsticks?

“You wanted to learn how to cook Liyuan food. I think you should master Liyuan utensils first.”

“I….” Ajax has no idea what to say. He’s seen many fancy things in the course of his career and he can tell these are high quality. The polished dark wood gleams, and there is a delicate pattern etched into them inlaid with gold. He peers closer.

“It’s, er, a dragon and a phoenix,” Zhongli says, that slight insecurity back in his voice. “Yin and yang.”

Ajax is well and truly speechless. It’s beautiful and personal and it’s…them. This might be the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever got him. Before he can choke on the fire leaping up from his chest, out slips an unbidden: “This–this almost makes me feel like….”

Zhongli is watching him, frowning now. “Like?”

Ajax almost says never mind, but coming right off what Hu Tao and Beidou said…fuck it. “Like you want to be my friend.”

Time is breathless in the pause, in the widening of Zhongli’s eyes, gold bright, the only sun visible in this grey world that narrows to muffle all else—

“I do.”

Ajax stares, shocked.

“As much as I admire poetry, I have always found attempting to express my thoughts to be insufficient.” Zhongli’s gaze turns to the sea with a self-conscious smile. “I thought my actions could make up for it, but they are also insufficient. I hope this small token can speak for itself.”

“It does.” Ajax feels his expression brightening with the lifting of his heart, with the intoxicating wildfire sweeping through his veins. “And it’s not small. Thank you.”

Zhongli’s eyes stay down as his lips lift, and he has no idea what he does to Ajax, does he? The air is fresh and cutting, but he can’t breathe. The wind is harsh and freezing, but Ajax feels nothing but warmth. He hasn’t touched alcohol in days, but he could swear he’s drunk with the giddiness that comes bubbling out of nowhere.

He thought falling would hurt. The violent thrill of tumbling down, down, down, towards nothing but pain at the end and yet—it’s soft down here. Soft and warm with undefiable gravity and it really is too late for him, isn’t it? 

“I should warn you”—Zhongli looks back up with a glowing, devastating smile—“Hu Tao is planning some kind of surprise with the crew tomorrow. It should be safe, but I would be prepared. Her pranks have been known to go too far.”

Ajax finds himself laughing on the outside, even as inside, the world is revolving, spinning fast to make him dizzy, the light of day ripping away night’s cover, a change and shift, rise and fall, his defenses shattered by the pull of an almost-celestial dance….

That’s just love, I guess. Beidou’s voice, bittersweet. It’s something you can’t control, so you have to make the best of it.

Ajax smiles, reflecting Zhongli’s light.

“Thanks for the warning.” He looks down at the chopsticks again and remembers— “Why would she make fun of you?”

“Ah.” An emotion creases his eyes that Ajax would describe as embarrassment if he thought Zhongli were capable of it. “Just…I meant, jealous, I suppose. She was not happy with her own birthday present.”

There’s something deeper there, but the curiosity can’t stand to the other feelings dominating Ajax’s chest. He closes the box and tucks it carefully in his pocket.

“Really, thank you,” he says softly.

Zhongli just smiles at him. “Happy birthday.”

Ajax looks away before he combusts, and together, they turn their eyes to the ocean, to the horizon and Inazuma waiting beyond, to the path towards freedom. 

And Ajax is once again helpless to a hope he’s never known.

Chapter Text

Grief is a powerful thing.

When Zhongli woke from hibernation, he tried to venture to Inazuma to learn what had become of the spirit beings there, only to find that the country was still locked down. The history books’ descriptions were sparse. It appeared that rule had been turned over to the humans some three hundred years ago after an insurrection ousted the shogun. She turned on her people, the books say, and became a tyrant. They had no choice but to defeat her by force to stop the slaughter.

Morax was one of the few people that was aware of the original shogun’s death. To all the world, Baal and Beelzebub—or Makoto and Ei as they preferred to be called—were the same person. Ei kept it well-hidden when her sister died, even from the other archons. But it was clear that change had rocked the land of Inazuma. The new shogun retreated into herself—politically, emotionally, and Morax suspected, physically—and closed off herself and her country from the world. 

This was a few decades before things truly started to fall apart, even before Greater Lord Rukkhadevata was lost. Perhaps Makoto’s death—covered up and never explained—was the first warning sign that the age of gods was at its end.

Zhongli had no choice but to believe the history books. He was awake when Makoto died but fell into a coma before this “insurrection” that killed Ei. There is no way to know if what they say about her is true.

Did the citizens of Inazuma kill Makoto? Like the Akademiya’s plot killed Rukkhadevata or Morax’s own people danced around the corpses of his fallen family?

Is that what caused Ei to turn to tyranny? Grief led Ei to cut ties with everything and everyone. Perhaps it also turned her on her own people. 

Yet another avoidable tragedy. Makoto was a kind and gentle god. She had an interest in cultivating human life that reminded Zhongli of Guizhong. He’s sure the two would have been good friends if they had ever met.

And Ei…. Zhongli is in no place to judge; he’s sure he would have murdered hundreds or thousands more if his body hadn’t given up. Nothing but the blinding, consuming rage of grief could cause a just ruler to become a tyrant….

There were many gentle gods, once upon a time. But the nature of this world seems to weed out kindness and wisdom and leave only the battle-scarred to pick up the pieces.

Guizhong died begging Morax to continue cultivating humanity. Against legions of demons and malevolent spirits, the two of them had kept their people safe and she died for them, died believing they were worth saving, that the balance between spirit and human was the key to a prosperous future.

And not only Guizhong gave her life for humanity. Also his yakshas and Marchosius and many other friends and family. The adepti could have turned their backs on humanity, but they fought and died to build Liyue.

And Morax did as she begged. He guarded the humans, he honored their contract, he carried them through war and strife to safe shores.

He believed in them.

Morax had loved Guizhong deeply. But he had loved deeply before her, and he knew he would love again. The haunting touch of transience was easier to accept when history moved in an ever-positive direction. People came and went, but their legacies forever shaped the land.

Or so he had thought.

In the end, Guizhong and Marchosius and so many other’s sacrifices were for nothing. The humans turned on the adepti and broke their sacred contract. It felt as if they had killed Guizhong personally by betraying her memory, just as they killed Azhdaha.

Where had he gone wrong? Where in his attempts to foster humanity had he let greed take root?

Grief…is a powerful thing.

***

This is Zhongli’s first time in three hundred years to step foot in Inazuma. Watatsumi Island is still beautiful, if less lush and atmosphere dulled. The soil itself feels contaminated. There is increased spirit activity everywhere; the spirits’ warped, starved energy resonates through the layers of sediment as they find no qi to feed on. A damaged environment and war have left the dead as disturbed as the living.

Their introduction to Her Excellency the Divine Priestess is nothing like Zhongli’s memories of the state visits to her ancestors. Palaces are replaced by dirty, cramped tunnels. Parades by the rush of hundreds of exhausted soldiers. Banquets by cups of cold tea on a table cluttered with records and maps.

Sangonomiya Kokomi’s countenance is one of young beauty aged and hardened by war. She is precise and polite, gaze clear and words measured.

“Two weeks ago, we retook this cave system.” The Divine Priestess folds her hands neatly on the table between them. “The enemy has been driven to the surface and by next week, hopefully from this quadrant of Watatsumi completely. There were some Fatui with them. We forced them to retreat so fast they didn’t have time to destroy their research. We’ve been trying to figure out what it’s for, but frankly, we don’t have the manpower to spare examining it.”

“I’m not sure how much help we can be,” Zhongli says.

“Any help is welcome,” she says, smile wan. “We’ll probably end up destroying it anyway.” She rises elegantly. “Let me show you the tech.”

Kokomi leads the three of them out of her makeshift office and through several tunnel corridors filled with soldiers hurrying back and forth. They all stop to salute, and their faces brighten at the mere sight of their general. She pauses once to address an aide that runs up to her with a scroll and again to order a passing captain to check on a reconstruction project.

Zhongli feels honored that the rebels’ supreme leader is taking the time to personally assist them despite the hundreds of better things she could be doing. She has been treating them very practically since they met, as if she doesn’t have the energy for more.

Kokomi takes them to a door built into the cave wall where two soldiers stand guard. At her order, they remove the alarm ward and open the door. Inside, she flips the switch on the emergency lighting strung on the ceiling. It’s a small room with tables, crates, and a human-sized machine propped against the wall. There are burn marks on the stone walls and floor and some of the furniture is charred.

Hu Tao walks over to the wall and puts a hand to it. Zhongli knows she can sense the heightened spiritual activity of this place. It’s strong deep in the caves, vibrating the air, pulsing beneath their feet. So many have met horrible ends on this island recently….

“They tried to set everything on fire when they fled,” Kokomi explains. “But we extinguished it immediately. We even recovered some research notes. Unfortunately, it’s all in code.”

She opens a crate and pulls out a journal.

“May I?” Ajax asks. When she hands it to him and he looks at the first page, he lets out a huff. “It’s not code, per say. Just illegible shorthand.”

“You can read it?” Kokomi frowns.

“A bit.” His brow furrows as he flips through the pages.

Zhongli crosses to the point of interest—the human-sized machine. Its dark, metal frame is clearly meant to be stood inside, and there are sensors and amplifiers attached to it that feel familiar. A large chamber near the top contains a portable battery. What stops Zhongli is an IV system attached to the frame. Needles and tubes and…where’s the drip bag?

“Was there a drip bag connected to this?”

Kokomi nods. “There was a synthetic solution mimicking blood. It’s currently in our alchemist’s care.”

“Could we examine it later?” Zhongli asks.

“Of course.”

He turns back to the machine and frowns. This machine was meant to…. And those amplifiers look like excitors…the opposite of…. “Ajax? Could I see Rayyan’s device?”

Ajax looks up from the journal, then walks over to join him. He holds up the precious device, still active, masking his curse. Zhongli takes it from him and peers close. Although he helped design the thing, he only has an elementary level of understanding of its complex processes. It took an expert alchemist to make even this tiny thing.

But Zhongli recognizes the arrangement of sensor nodes. It’s the same as the surface of the amplifiers in the machine. He runs a finger over the panels attached to the frame while Ajax returns to reading the journal. It must have taken a team of a dozen Rayyan-level geniuses to design this thing.

“So, do you have any idea what it does?” Kokomi is watching them with a quiet, leveled gaze.

Zhongli and Ajax glance at each other. They know the general idea at least.

“The serum is made from demon blood,” Ajax says. “I think this machine is meant to inject it into someone and….”

“Supercharge the process,” Zhongli finishes. “Bind the curse evenly into the soul. We’ll have to see the solution, but it makes sense that they’d have to create a synthetic version of the pure demon blood to mass-produce it. It wouldn’t take easily. It would be extremely dangerous, so this machine….”

“Helps the curse take?” Ajax says.

“Probably.”

“But when I—” Ajax glances at Kokomi and cuts himself off. “Maybe this machine means they’re close to perfecting the technology.”

“Someone died here.” Hu Tao approaches, her amulet in her outstretched hand. “Someone died in that machine. I can feel it.”

“So, not perfect,” Ajax says. “But they’ve made advances.”

“What is the curse?” The Divine Priestess steps closer, eyes narrowed.

“It’s…a way to control someone,” Zhongli says. “To track them and make them obedient.”

“If it were mass-produced, a single person could have an army of puppets,” Ajax says quietly. “Soldiers who couldn’t disobey as long as their commander was near.”

Kokomi looks at him with a long, clear gaze. “This was done to you?”

Ajax flinches.

“That’s why you know so much about it?” she continues. “And you can read Fatui shorthand? You’re ex-Fatui?”

He opens his mouth, expression unsure, but Kokomi smiles. 

“It’s okay. I heard a rumor the other day, you know.” She walks to the table and runs a finger along the burn marks. “That the newest Harbinger is dead. Was sent on a mission and never came back.” She looks up and her expression is both kind and hard. “Tartaglia is gone, isn’t he?”

Ajax hesitates. “Yes…he is.”

“Good.” She nods. “That’s all I need to know.” And then her smile brightens. “Of course, if anyone here happens to know about Fatui battle tactics and strategies, it would be helpful to the cause.”

“I believe there might be someone,” Ajax says with his own smile.

“Excellent. I have many questions for that someone.” She crosses to a crate. “We also rescued some prisoners of war when we retook these caves. They had been experimented on, and some died. I assume you know the use of these?”

Kokomi opens the crate, and it’s full of glittering delusions. Zhongli tries not to flinch. Along with the general sour aura filling this place and the constant distraction of Ajax’s energy, he hadn’t sensed the presence of those malignant things.

“Yes,” Ajax says. “Delusions. They allow people to channel raw adeptal energy.”

“They’ve killed some of our soldiers.”

“Normal people shouldn’t be using them.” Ajax’s brow creases. “The energy is deadly to even the strongest. You should destroy them.”

She nods, but then there is sudden, rapid pounding on the door and a muffled shout of: “Your Excellency!”

Kokomi frowns and jogs over to open it to a panting, winded soldier. “Your Excellency, there’s another–another spirit disturbance in the in-infirmary. It’s tearing up our medical supplies. General Gorou is attending to–to it, but we need your—”

“I understand.” Kokomi puts up a hand. “Thank you, Captain Nathan, I will be right there.”

Captain Nathan salutes and rushes away again.

“I apologize.” She smiles tiredly back at them. “Please take your time. I will have our alchemist send the blood here.”

“Um, Your Excellency?” Hu Tao asks as Kokomi turns to leave.

“Please, there is no need for formality,” she says with a wave of her hand. “You’re not my soldiers. ‘Kokomi’ is fine.”

“Okay, um, Kokomi, would you like any help with the spirit activity here? I’m an experienced exorcist.”

“You are?”

“Yes.” Hu Tao grins. “I’m the director of the one and only Wangsheng Funeral Parlor! Exorcisms are our specialty.”

Kokomi matches her smile. “Your help would be appreciated, then. The spirits here are very agitated. My family, the guardians of the shrine, have used specific artifacts to deal with them for generations, but the war is exacerbating our problems.” 

“Maybe Liyuan traditions can help!” Hu Tao says.

“Yes,” Kokomi muses. “Maybe a new strategy could bring new solutions. I would like to hear your advice. Let’s go immediately.”

Hu Tao’s grin widens. She gives Zhongli’s arm a squeeze as she follows Kokomi out of the room, but he just smiles. He will never not be protective of her, but she’s an adult who can handle herself and she’ll be surrounded by experts. There’s no need for him to nag.

Perhaps…he has been changing lately.

Ajax stares at the door as it closes behind the women. “I’m glad Hu Tao has something to do. I’ve felt so bad.”

“Yes, it’s good to feel useful,” Zhongli agrees. His sister has a true passion for exorcisms and helping people. Hopefully, she doesn’t have to lose that completely.

“Speaking of being useful….” Ajax opens the crate with the delusions. “Before she destroys them….” He inspects a few before choosing one.

“Ajax—”

“I know, I know.” He tucks it in his pocket with a weak smile. “Just for emergencies.”

Zhongli almost nags but again manages to stop himself. He knows Ajax will be careful with both of their lives on the line, and it’s not the worst idea.

He watches him go through the rest of the crates. Ajax has been acting differently in the few days since Zhongli gifted him the chopsticks. More relaxed. He seemed on edge off-and-on before, but now the two of them have fallen into a comfortable dynamic. Zhongli is happy with the status quo they’ve reached.

Zhongli is also thankful that Ajax didn’t connect the symbolism of the dragon and phoenix to how they’re traditionally used. The chopsticks seemed like a perfect gift. They were both practical and conveyed the message that he considered them equal, balanced partners and intended to treat Ajax with respect. It was proof of his half-spoken promise to try harder. 

The connotations of marriage were not on his mind and are hopefully not on Ajax’s.

Marriage is somewhat of a ridiculous concept when their bond is literally the deepest connection any two people could have. What power could some legal papers have against the bond of their very souls?

Yet, Zhongli is perfectly aware of how much humans value marriage. It was never a practice amongst the adepti because they felt no need for documents to prove their commitment to a partner. Zhongli knows that human lives are short and dangerous, and so they cling to each other desperately in this way. He also knows it is a convenient means of keeping track of families. Such a system was never necessary amongst his species because they lived communally. Children were rare and raised by all.

On the surface, the idea of a marriage contract is appealing to Zhongli. His only problem was that contracts should be created with mutual respect and easily amended should any party’s feelings change, and it never seemed like the human custom accommodated this. There are several people he could have called a spouse over the millennia. Indeed, their commitment was the equivalent of the human concept of marriage. 

So Zhongli understands why humans value marriage and structure their entire lives around it, but he only realized in hindsight that his gift may have been insensitive if Ajax took it the wrong way. Thankfully, Ajax he seems to have understood what Zhongli meant by it.

Indeed…there have been several things that Zhongli hasn’t considered, including the exact nature of Ajax’s feelings towards him. He has been too obsessed with his own emotions to consider—

“Zhongli?”

He blinks to find Ajax gazing back at him. “Yes?”

“You’re staring at me?”

“Sorry.” Zhongli clears his throat. “What were we discussing?” 

“Nothing in particular.” Ajax raises an eyebrow. “I’m going to keep reading the research notes.”

Zhongli nods and makes himself useful examining the machine, but after a few minutes, nothing more comes of his search. He wonders if they could call Rayyan. The alchemist did give them a telephone number where they could reach them at the Akademiya. But Zhongli doesn’t want to disturb them after they did so much already.

After a long while, Ajax looks up. “Zhongli, I found something.”

“Oh?”

Ajax opens the journal to a page and moves next to Zhongli to show him. “The machine is meant to open the soul, like you said. I don’t fully understand this, but it’s describing a control panel? Or comparing the interface to a control panel?”

The notes are truly illegible, so Zhongli just nods. 

“It calms the…resistance?” Ajax reads slowly. “Calms…no—sedates the soul…against intruders.”

“So the curse can get inside?”

“And bind easily like you said, I guess.”

“So….” Zhongli frowns. “Could we open your soul? And…unbind it?”

“Maybe.” Ajax folds his arms at stares at the machine. “There was no machine when they did this to me. It took hours for the curse to take and I almost died. I can’t imagine how many other people they’ve tried this on over the years who did die.”

Hundreds, Zhongli imagines. “Did you never hear of another Fatui agent who survived this?”

“Maybe.” Ajax’s gaze grows distant in thought. “But they never told me anything I didn’t need to know. It feels like I was an experiment that went well, so they decided to train me. Maybe they did this to other recruits, but they failed and died. That would explain why the CEO has a preference for me.”

Zhongli frowns. “Preference?” He’s never mentioned this before.

“Yeah.” A darkness brushes over Ajax’s expression, shifting stormclouds. “I always thought it was strange how she kept promoting me. I’ve only seen her in person twice. I mean, I’m a good assassin, but I’m not particularly special. There was no reason for her to protect me. Unless I was a rare survivor of this experiment.”

Something doesn’t feel right, something tugs at Zhongli’s mind insistently, but as soon as he chases the thought, it evaporates like grasping at mist.

“Dottore spent a lot of time trying to reinforce my body to help me connect with adeptal energy,” Ajax says. He pulls out the delusion and looks at it. “And from the beginning, they had a high-ranking Harbinger, Scaramouche, train me. Maybe I was the…prototype? Of an army of soldiers that could be controlled with the curse?”

Everything Ajax is saying makes sense, but Zhongli can’t help but feel an itch he can’t pin down. Something like intuition, more ephemeral than concrete. Threads hanging in the dark, waiting to be pulled.

“I was just a kid from a slum,” Ajax laughs. “They took me because no one would make a fuss if I went missing, but I never understood why they kept me and invested so much into me. This could explain it.”

“It…could,” Zhongli says. They both stare at the delusion in Ajax’s hands until there’s a knock at the door.

It opens, and Beidou walks in alongside two short men, one dressed in the rebels’ uniform and one not.

“Hey, how’s the research going?” Beidou holds up a box. “I brought the blood.”

“Thank you.” Zhongli takes the box from her. “We believe we have identified the function of the machine.”

“That’s great!” She gives a wide grin. “This is General Gorou and my friend Kazuha, they wanted to meet you. We’re all very curious about this tech.”

“It’s an honor to meet you!” General Gorou bows far too deeply. “I apologize that I couldn’t greet you earlier due to the disturbance. Director Hu Tao was instrumental in the removal of the spirit in the infirmary.”

“She finished already?” Ajax asks after he and Zhongli mimic Gorou’s gesture.

“Yes, and now she is assisting in the latrine.” The general’s entire posture brims with enthusiasm. “Her aid is greatly appreciated.”

Zhongli almost wants to laugh at the thought of Hu Tao running around the toilets fighting spirits. She really ought to make herself useful after dodging chores her whole life.

The other young man also bows with a quiet elegance. “I am Kaedehara Kazuha, long time acquaintance of Captain Beidou.”

“What do you mean ‘acquaintance’?” She frowns at him. “And don’t call me captain.”

Kazuha smiles. “Auntie Beidou has saved my life—”

“Auntie?!” she gasps in horror. “The absolute disrespect!”

“What would you have me…?”

“Big sis, obviously!” A stern glare is on Beidou’s face, but her eyes shine. “How old do you think I am? Wait, don’t answer that.” She turns back to Zhongli and Ajax with a sigh. “Anyway, need any help?”

Zhongli looks at Ajax, who shrugs. “We’re just starting to look at it, but it seems the machine makes it easier for the curse caused by this demon blood to take.”

“What were the Fatui doing with it here?” Beidou wonders.

“They’ve done a lot of experimentation on prisoners of war,” Gorou says, the enthusiastic gleam in his eyes falling to grimness. “Tri-Com doesn’t care what they do here, they can get away with all kinds of human rights violations.”

“We’re not even human to them,” Kazuha muses softly.

“I wonder if that’s part of the deal,” Ajax says. “The Fatui don’t need money. What is Tri-Com offering them?”

“I’m sure it is,” Gorou says. “Our natural resources, our people…. They can just take—”

There is yet another knock on the door, and it opens to the same soldier that interrupted earlier. He salutes Gorou. “I apologize for the intrusion, General and honored guests. Her Excellency requests your presence for mealtime.”

“Thank you, Captain Nathan,” Gorou says. He turns back with a sheepish smile. “We’ll have to continue this fascinating conversation over dinner. I’m afraid we don’t have much in the way of rations, but hopefully it’s enough.”

“Your hospitality is already perfect,” Zhongli says as he sets the box safely on a table for later.

Captain Nathan leads them all back through the tunnels towards the surface. Zhongli notices that this “Nathan” isn’t Inazuman. His features and accent seem Mondstadtian. It appears that Beidou isn’t the only foreigner who has taken an interest in the plight of the people here.

They emerge into a massive cave that’s open to the beach. Barricades are placed all around the beach, and ships can be seen anchored in the sea beyond. Hundreds of soldiers sit around on the cave floor or sand, enjoying their rations. Kokomi and Hu Tao are sitting at a low table near the entrance. From the excited whispers running through the soldiers, it’s rare to see their supreme leader outside her office.

Bonfires blaze and illuminate the cavern, and outside, the sun is already gone. The sky is cloudy, but some moonlight fights through to sparkle on the water.

Captain Nathan drops the five of them off at Kokomi’s table with a salute.

“Please sit, everyone.” The Divine Priestess smiles, looking more relaxed than when she left them. To her right, Hu Tao is already scarfing down a bowl of rice. There’s a suspicious liquid matting part of her hair and dirt on her face.

“Hu Tao,” Zhongli scolds quietly as he sits on the ground next to her. “Don’t eat before our host.”

“It’s quite all right.” Kokomi laughs. “Director Hu was immensely helpful today.”

Hu Tao sticks out her tongue at him and then attacks her grilled fish. Zhongli notices as they are all seated that Gorou’s claim of the rations being “not enough” was probably an attempt at humility. They each have a bowl of rice, grilled fish, and vegetable dish. Quite nice considering their proximity to the front lines.

“Got any beer?” Beidou asks hopefully as she swings her head around. “Or shochu or something?”

“This is a military encampment, Captain,” Kokomi says sternly before a smile breaks across her face and she laughs again. “So, of course we do. You’ll find some with Lieutenant Sato over there.”

Beidou gets up to find alcohol with her typical grin, and Zhongli wonders how the leader of a large army who already has so many burdens is also aware of such a minute detail. When he commanded armies, he could not have said what each individual was responsible for.

Kokomi and the other Inazumans say a quick prayer and then she gestures to the food. “Please eat. And tell me, any updates?”

“I can read parts of the research notes,” Ajax says as the others dig in. “The machine seems to be built to help the curse.”

Kokomi takes a delicate bite of fish. “And as for your…situation?”

He glances at Zhongli. “We haven’t determined anything yet.”

Zhongli nods. It would be a miracle if they could use the machine on Ajax, but they will have to spend a lot more time with it. The technology is very dangerous.

“Take as much time as you need.” The Divine Priestess smiles. “I wouldn’t mind having your expertise as long as you’d like to stay.”

“How was the exorcism?” Zhongli asks.

Hu Tao finishes chugging her tea and slumps back on the sand. “The spirits here are something else.”

“Director Hu was very brave,” General Gorou says. “The disturbed energy here has only gotten worse during the war. Spirits can be almost as much of a problem as the enemy armies.”

“It didn’t used to be this way,” Kokomi says quietly.

No, it did not. Zhongli remembers a peaceful Inazuma not torn by war and ecological crises. Of course, the people of Watatsumi and the followers of the shogun were once enemies, but that conflict was settled thousands of years ago and the two cultures have lived in peace since.

That conflict pitted god against god. Now that only humans remain, it seems rebels from all over the country are joining together against a corrupt government.

“There was a time when human and spirit coexisted peacefully,” Kokomi continues. “When the war is won and Tri-Com is overthrown, I will see that we respect the balance of nature again.”

“Is it not too late?” Zhongli says before he can stop himself. “With the ley lines stripped and youkai gone?”

“We can’t make up for everything that has gone wrong,” she says with a tired smile. “But we can change people’s minds.”

“Change their minds?”

“As the ruler is, so shall the people be,” she says. “I’ve always tried to lead by example. The conglomerate running the country only cares about money, and so do the people. If I care about the earth, the people will too. It’s a start, to inspire people to change. Respect is the first step.”

All these little humans are so full of hope. Zhongli can feel Ajax watching him, so he refrains from replying and turns his attention back to his meal.

Beidou returns with a bottle of shochu and some cups. “A drink, anyone?”

“None for me and the general,” Kokomi says kindly. “We’re on duty.”

Gorou looks disappointed, and Beidou laughs as she pours some for everyone else. They all eat and chat together as long as the Divine Priestess’ busy schedule will allow. The atmosphere around the cavern isn’t nearly as tense as a military camp should be. Even the common soldiers seem happy, especially with their leader eating among them. Tomorrow, there may be battle, but tonight, they live in this tiny bubble of peace.

After dinner, everyone scatters to take care of various duties, and Gorou asks for Hu Tao’s help again. She agrees, looking reinvigorated. It really is a good thing, Zhongli thinks, that she can help out. They can give back to their hosts and Hu Tao will feel that she’s making a difference.

Once they clean up and everyone disappears, Ajax looks at him. “Want to take a walk?” When Zhongli hesitates: “Come on, the machine isn’t going anywhere. I’ve never seen Watatsumi in person. I just want to look over the hill.”

Zhongli has trouble saying no to those eager blue eyes. They walk out along the long stretch of beach, passing from bonfire to bonfire. Barricades tower next to them, and soldiers continue their rounds. Out on the water, small boats rock gently where they’re moored. Something bioluminescent sparkles near the shore. On the hill, still well within the encampment and nowhere near danger, they can almost glimpse the interior of Watatsumi Island.

Purple trees shift in the wind, and the faint roar of a waterfall can be heard far away. The Inazuman air is warm, even in the evening dappled with sea breeze. Ajax gazes out through the wooden slats of the barricade, face half-lit by a large torch.

“We couldn’t see anything coming in,” he says. “It’s amazing.”

“We can’t let the Fatui—”

“I know,” he laughs. “They won’t see us here, this area is cleared.”

“According to the rebels.”

Ajax looks back at him with a frown. “You don’t trust them?”

“I know they wouldn’t betray us.” Zhongli stares into the flickering of the torch. “But they are facing an enemy with infinite resources.”

Ajax glances at the patrolling soldiers, out of earshot, then back. “I’m well aware how careful we should be. But I wouldn’t underestimate our hosts.”

That reminds Zhongli: “The general knows your identity.”

“Yeah.” Ajax leans against the fence. “She’s a good person, I can tell. It’s incredible, honestly, the number of people who are willing to help me….”

It is incredible. But, “You deserve to receive help.”

Ajax snorts and meets his eyes. “And the faceless Harbinger Tartaglia whose infamous reputation precedes him?”

“Well,” Zhongli says, “Diluc wanted to kill you, but once he got to know you, he chose to help. And Hu Tao’s friends as well.”

“Yeah, that’s fair,” Ajax laughs. “They’re just good and reasonable people, I guess. It’s inspiring that they were willing to listen to a dangerous enemy. And Rayyan dropped everything to help. Beidou brought us all the way here, and Kokomi is giving me a chance without an explanation….” He smiles downward softly. “Gives me hope.”

Zhongli swallows as something glimmers through Ajax’s eyes. That smile—it’s the same as when he talked about his family, when he sparred with Hu Tao, when the emptiness in his gaze slipped to reveal so much more underneath.

The smile when Zhongli gave him the chopsticks.

Hope looks beautiful on him.

Zhongli wants to stare at it forever. He doesn’t want to be the one who makes it fall from his eyes, the one to break the spell. And any reply Zhongli has is devoid of hope.

So he just watches as long as Ajax will let him. He drinks in the miracle of something so pure in the midst of darkness—a single flower striving towards the sun in a field of snow and death—the moon fighting through heavy clouds to provide light on a dark, lost night.

“Everyone fighting here….” Ajax gestures towards the ever-busy rush of soldiers. “I’ve never…I’ve never seen determination like this. Tri-Com owns the country, but these people are fighting for their families and their homes. They know they don’t stand a chance, but they’ll never give up.”

Zhongli watches him watching them. The glimmering of light in his eyes. The awe and wonder there. A childlike innocence someone so jaded shouldn’t have.

“The whole world is against them,” Ajax says softly. “But they believe. ” He laughs. “Maybe I’m being stupid. A ‘blooming idealist.’ I…I wish I could help them.”

He looks at Zhongli, whose heart drops at the despair-tinged hope in his gaze.

It’s a phase, he wants to say. You’ll get over it. Only nihilism lies at the other end of this arc. Hope rises only to fall. It’s natural to feel inspired when one’s chains break, but the baseline will never change. Equilibrium will win in the end.

“If you had access to plentiful qi again, could you be as strong as you were?” Ajax continues quietly.

Zhongli can’t rob those eyes of their newfound light. But he doesn’t want to lie.

“Perhaps,” he says.

“What could stand a chance against you then?”

It’s a serious question. Ajax is not a silly or irrational person, as pointless as this new line of thought will end up being. His eyes are as serious as they are hopeful, seeking solutions and silver linings and loopholes amidst what Zhongli can only see as absolute darkness.

The truth Zhongli won’t say: He lost himself, and there is no going back.

“I am still one being against the world,” he says.

Ajax smirks. “And what are we then? Look at all these soldiers, we could have an army. We’ve met so many people who still believe.”

Zhongli stares out towards the sea and bites back a retort that a few freedom fighters make no difference against the powers that rule the world.

“You said you’re malnourished,” Ajax goes on, voice gaining confidence. “Of course you’re going to feel powerless if you haven’t eaten.”

Zhongli sighs heavily.

“You need a snack.”

“Ajax, it’s not that sim—” 

“I know, I’m teasing.”

He looks back and his soulmate is smiling. 

“Even if I regained enough energy,” Zhongli says slowly, “I don’t know if it would make a difference.” It’s not physical, his core ailment.

“I’ve seen you rip metal apart with your bare hands, heal from fatal wounds, cause an earthquake with just a thought, and run 60 miles without stopping.” That smile, that awe—it’s direct at him. “And that’s nothing to what you used to be.”

Zhongli’s lips quirk up. “And yet I am as powerless as any sickly human child against the tides of fate. In the end, strength is useless.”

“I don’t know about that.” Ajax laughs. “I always thought, if I’d been stronger, I could have saved my family. I could have saved—” He cuts himself off with a shake of the head.

Zhongli stares at him. His smile remains, stretching longer than he’s ever seen it, the dawn of stars as night deepens. A quiet, gentle, prompting thing.

If you ever feel like trusting me…I would be glad to listen.

Unlike Hu Tao yelling at him that she wanted to make a difference. Unlike Venti stirring him up, disarming him with logic. They could never understand.

Hu Tao is young and fresh and can’t understand why he doesn’t match her burning passion. And letting go is second nature to a god as capricious and drifting as Venti. Their attempts to sway him were never what he needed.

Zhongli stares at Ajax, this intruder in his soul, this crack in his mask of bedrock, this smile that shakes him miles more than words ever could.

Because if someone as guilty as he is can smile like that—

He is drawn forward, finally, finally—

“I had all the strength in the world and I couldn’t stop what happened to my family,” Zhongli says. “I built an empire and grew lazy and then it all fell apart. If only I had realized that strength never mattered as much as what was in my people’s hearts….” He closes his eyes. “Strength is a facade, a pretty thing to hide behind. And when it breaks as it must, what are you left with on the inside?”

Silence follows the fall. In the dark world behind his eyelids, he could pretend he is alone. But now he is never alone, and he feels nothing but warmth from the soul intertwined with his.

“Is that why you blame yourself?” Quiet, searching. Clearly a question long withheld.

“Of course.”

Ajax pauses for a long moment before saying, “Can…can I say something impertinent?”

Zhongli meets his eyes again and finds sudden hesitance in Ajax’s expression. “You can tell me anything, Ajax. We’re equals, soulmates.”

“You’re a god.”

“Not anymore. And even if I were, I’m not above you in any way.”

“I don’t know if I can give advice to someone with so much more…history than me.”

Is this what he said about looking into Zhongli’s soul and everything there overwhelming him? “I would like to hear whatever you have to say.”

Ajax’s eyes are the pale blue of dusk, of the inevitable void, of that terrifying pull towards surrender. A gentle smile, colored by hesitation and earnesty, half-lit by the torch, half in shadow. “It’s not your fault.”

This again. Zhongli sighs into the release: “Yes, it is. I had the power, the responsibility. I failed to recognize what was happening around me—”

“All the gods did.”

“—and when my family was killed one by one, I still did not lift a hand.”

“Doesn’t that prove you weren’t a tyrant? You refused to kill your people?” Ajax’s voice isn’t biting, like the others. It’s the tide, pulling him back, drawing his eyes.

“I did kill some.” Ah, there’s a story that will remain at the bitter core of his heart. It will be the last wall to fall, when he has given all of himself away. “The simple fact is that I could have stopped what happened and I didn’t.”

Ajax is quiet for a moment. The seriousness, hopefulness, light and dark is still dancing in his gaze, smile lingering on the edges of a hard determination. And now its full force is on Zhongli.

“You told me that you forgive me when I couldn’t forgive myself. So I’ll say the same to you. If I’m not allowed to feel guilty about my mistakes, then you aren’t either.”

“It’s…not the same,” Zhongli sighs.

“How?”

“You were a powerless child trying to protect his family. I was a god with an entire nation at my command.”

“So my mistakes are worth less than yours?” Somehow, miraculously, there isn’t defensiveness in Ajax’s voice. The question is a gentle prod when it should be an argument. There’s too much understanding in his words, and it makes Zhongli ache.

“Of course not. But you couldn’t be held responsible for your choices.”

“How? I trusted someone I knew wasn’t trustworthy—”

“You were a child.”

“—and then I hurt countless people willingly just to protect the five that mattered to me. People died because I chose to kill them.”

“They would’ve just been assassinated by another Fatui agent.”

“I hurt your children, Zhongli.” Ajax’s eyes capture his and in them darkness makes war with hope, an oh-so-familiar darkness. “I knew what would happen to them, and I took them anyway. I could have warned them. I could have helped them escape. I saw the fear and pain in their eyes and I hurt them anyway. I could have done so much more to break this curse, the clues were everywhere. I was a coward and other people suffered for it—don’t you dare say I can’t be held responsible.”

There’s still no sharpness to his words. Just despair. And Zhongli knows they share this thing between them, the guilt that corrupts and pollutes everything. All the people they’ve both hurt. Not sympathy, but pure empathy.

“I don’t blame you,” he says weakly.

“Then don’t blame yourself either,” Ajax laughs. “That’s my point. I’m saying if anyone understands how you feel, it’s me.”

“I know.” And he does.

“That’s why your forgiveness means so much.” Ajax shakes his head. “I understand. And I want to say—it’s okay. It really is okay. If I can move on, so can you.”

Zhongli stares at him, at the smile retaking his face. The smile is not in spite of guilt and despair, but built from it. It is carved by jadedness and innocence alike. It is wisdom and naivete. It is life from death and light from dark—not in defiance but acceptance.

It is something that should not exist. A paradox and synthesis all at once.

Zhongli wants to taste it. He settles for a faint smile of his own. “How can you talk like that?”

“I don’t know,” Ajax laughs. “But I told you before, didn’t I? I just try to think of the people I’m fighting for. Like these soldiers. Like Hu Tao’s friends.”

Zhongli looks down and swallows.

“You say you’re not a god anymore, but you’re still trying to protect people, aren’t you?” Ajax goes on. “Hu Tao and me. You say it’s ‘just’ us, but isn’t that an excuse? Isn’t it proof that you’re still yourself?”

Zhongli stares at him as his stubbornness fractures like a diamond. In the end, in the now, when words flow unprompted and a gentle smile guides him forward—

“I’m not, Ajax,” he says with difficulty. “I don’t know what I am, but I’m not myself. Strength is a pretty thing to hide behind, and when it crumbles, I have nothing.”

What are you now that you have let us all die?

Guilt, yes, Ajax can understand. But the grief, the weight of everything, the anchor attached to his heart…the ineffable thing he’s let define him….

He said he wanted to spare Ajax of the burden of his past, and here he is, too weak to respect his own wishes. He failed his family and his past partners, he lost everything, and now he’s doomed to drag his soulmate down with hi—

Zhongli blinks. He didn’t notice Ajax move, but there are arms tight around him and a face buried in the crook of his neck.

“You have us,” Ajax mutters. “You have me.”

Zhongli waits, but that’s all he says. He doesn’t know what he was expecting, an eloquent speech like Venti’s or passionate arguments like Hu Tao’s. The force of their logic and wisdom. Confronting him with the irrationality of his fears, forcing him open. Let go. Move on. Forget the past.

Ajax is nothing like that. After the arguments are given, he offers himself and asks for nothing in return.

It feels like a fundamental shift. That moment he’s been anticipating, the inevitable terminus hitting before he can brace himself, the slip across the event horizon he thought he could fight, the obliteration of his control….

Free will was only ever an illusion, a mirage that led him on, kept him clinging uselessly to the promise, the comfort of control. It vanishes as he stumbles for it, leaves him to collapse in the barren desert, in the inevitable certainty that his previous sense of self is nowhere to be seen, in the bitter, violent reality that he is changed.

But in this moment, he couldn’t care less.

Ajax’s soul flows around him like life-giving water, open and warm, hesitant and afraid, that paradox of light and dark and something more born between them, the yin that soothes yang and is brightened in return.

You have people to fight for.

You have me.

Zhongli returns Ajax’s embrace, pulls him closer with arms tight around his waist, bows his head, and all he wants to say is, I don’t deserve you. Instead he murmurs, "Thank you."

He doesn’t know who he is. No solution, no conclusion. But he isn’t alone.

The tide is overwhelming, and the ocean’s depths bring sweet surrender.

Chapter Text

Ajax swallows. “Are you sure about this?”

“No.” Zhongli pauses in his tinkering to put a comforting hand on his wrist. “Do you want to stop?”

He takes a deep breath and shuffles against the machine’s hard metal frame. “I mean, we don’t have a choice.”

Zhongli looks at him hard. “I’m not sure what will happen. If you’re nervous, it may make things worse.”

“I’m–I’m not nervous, I just….”

Ajax squeezes his eyes shut. He knows what this feeling is. The dryness of his throat, the pounding of his heart, the numbness in his fingers…. Ridiculous, after everything Dottore’s put him through. This couldn’t be worse.

“It’s reminding you of that time?” Zhongli’s voice is quiet.

That first time. When they strapped him to a table and injected fire into his veins. Ajax tries to breathe. “Maybe?”

Zhongli’s hand slides down to his and pulls. “Come on, we don’t have to—”

“No.” He grips Zhongli’s hand. “We have to. Just do it. Please. We’ve come so far.”

They have the machine up and running. Ready to open his soul. Materials prepared for the spells. Three days of work to see what they can do.

The adeptus looks at him sternly. “I won’t do anything until you’re calm.”

Ajax lets out a shaky sigh. “I’m fine.”

“I can feel everything you feel.” Zhongli cracks a smile. “Just breathe with me for a moment, won’t you?”

Ajax hates being patronized, but it feels different when Zhongli guides his hand to his chest and he can feel his soulmate’s heart beating steady through his many layers.

“Match my breathing,” Zhongli says.

Yeah…Ajax is nervous for an entirely different reason now as Zhongli holds his hand against his chest and stares into his eyes. He breaks eye contact.

“You’re not breathing.”

“I’m…trying,” Ajax mutters.

Zhongli waits, two fingers on his pulse, chest rising and falling slowly. It always amazes Ajax how he can initiate these things with no awkwardness. He used to wonder if that meant Zhongli felt nothing towards him, but he doesn’t think that’s true anymore. He’s just…confident?

Ajax wishes he could be a straightforward person, but it’s hard to act on real feelings after only being whatever the Fatui wanted him to be for years. He’s certainly flirted with people, seduced people, but it was never personal. Everything besides his family was a disguise and he has almost no practice in being authentic.

It took a lot to tell Zhongli that he thought he should forgive himself, as open as he seemed to any advice. It still felt impertinent, even if they are friends, even if the warmth between them grows every day.

Ajax felt insanely insecure saying You have me. It was nearly a confession. What right does he have to comfort a god? To confess to a god? Zhongli has every reason to reject anything he has to offer.

Ajax wants to laugh at himself. Zhongli has every reason to reject him, but he hasn’t. He forgave him. He gave him a thoughtful gift. He clearly cares about him. So why can’t Ajax accept it? Where is this insecurity really coming from? 

He’s known the answer all along: Zhongli’s kindness, his openness…is caused by the bond.

Try as he might, he can’t forget the things Zhongli said. All those callous statements: Don’t pretend you have any honor. Some cosmic fault twisted our fates together. All we can do is mitigate the effects. When he first thanked him, You aren’t giving me a choice.

Ajax believes that Zhongli meant his apology. That he really, truly accepts their bond. That he no longer despises the loss of his free will.

But, at the end of the day, those original feelings were real. That anger and bitterness. They faded as they got to know each other, but that doesn’t invalidate them. Would the original Zhongli have given him a chance? Would he grow to care about him in any other circumstances?

Would he choose him?

Ajax would choose Zhongli, he’s sure of it. Beyond the practical opportunity, Zhongli is fascinating and wise and beautiful, and bond or no bond, Ajax is convinced he would have fallen just like this. He was attracted the moment he saw him, overwhelmed by elegance and power and empyrean golden eyes. And later, his care and thoughtfulness. A potential for kindness the man himself denies.

Ajax feels lucky, unworthy, to have such a person for a soulmate. What does he have to offer in return?

Would he choose me?

“Ajax?”

He looks back up at Zhongli and realizes that he’s calmed down. It feels so natural to fall into the rhythm of his soulmate’s breathing, even while his thoughts run wild. To melt into Zhongli’s gentle smile and steady heartbeat.

Who cares why Zhongli is gazing at him with such tender care? Surely all that matters is that he is.

“Better?” he asks.

“A bit,” Ajax says quietly. Zhongli starts to move, but he grips his hand with both of his. “Zhongli, I…I’m scared.”

“I know.” It’s hard to believe that soft voice belongs to a god of war. “We don’t have to do this.”

“No, we do. I just….”

Ajax isn’t really scared. Well, the past still prickles like thorns in his stomach, but it’s more an excuse for getting affection. Like when Teucer clings to him as he leaves their house, something insecure and needy.

And Zhongli senses this, obliges, pulls him out of the machine’s frame and into his arms. A hand runs up and down his back and another cards through his hair, and just for a second, Ajax allows himself to melt into another little, stolen moment of normalcy. Like when they cook together, when they chat into the night, when they tease and flirt as if they’re two normal people getting closer and closer….

It feels like a dream. Like a future Ajax never thought he would have. He always lived every day like it was his last, knowing his job would get him killed, only trying to make sure his family was safe for when he did inevitably die.

But now he has a chance to live. To be forgiven and held by a former enemy. Whether this works out or not, Ajax wouldn’t take back anything they’ve been through together.

So who cares why? Zhongli’s arms are steady and secure, and would he embrace him so often and with such ease if he didn’t want to?

Ajax lets out a long breath into Zhongli’s shoulder and squeezes him tight enough to hurt a human. The adeptus chuckles. “Better now?”

“Yeah,” Ajax sighs. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” Zhongli leans back and brushes his knuckles over Ajax’s cheek. “I’ll be right here with you the whole time. I won’t let it hurt you.”

Ajax’s chest seizes. Any lingering tingles of panic are instantly drowned by an overwhelming surge of—well, what else can he call it? That tugging he’s scared to label love.

Also what the fuck, Zhongli? That was the least platonic thing he’s ever witnessed—really, nothing that’s been happening between them lately could be interpreted as anything close to platonic—and it sends him absolutely tumbling. Ajax wants to catch his hand, to lean forward and kiss him, to blurt something out, to just confess on the spot but—

He’s glad he does none of those things because the door opens.

As much as Hu Tao claims to be his wingman, she has an uncanny knack for interrupting at the worst moments. The young exorcist’s eyes bug out at the sight of their arms around each other and she makes to close the door.

“Hu Tao?” Zhongli turns her direction, but one of his hands—oh gods—stays on the small of Ajax’s back.

“Uh, yeah?” She peeks her head back in.

“Where are you going?”

“Um. Nowhere.” She glances between them, and Ajax’s face burns. “Are you ready yet?”

“We’re just about to start.”

“These two want to help, too.” Hu Tao finally opens the door. Beidou and Kazuha are there with her, and the three of them enter.

“We could use help monitoring things in case something goes wrong,” Zhongli says, and Ajax nods in agreement.

“I’m not good for much more than sailing and punching things.” Beidou smiles as she joins them at the machine. “But if you need a steady hand, I’ve got one.”

“I am also not sure how useful this could be,” Kazuha says, “but I can hear your curse.”

Ajax frowns at him. “Hear?”

“Ah, I apologize, it sounds strange.” The short man smiles. “It’s like elemental sense. I am sensitive to the nature of things, especially the fabric of magic. Your curse is dormant now, but I can hear it on you.”

His smile is knowing, and Ajax wonders if that means he can also “hear” their soulmate bond or Zhongli’s distinctly adeptal energy signature.

“That could actually be quite useful,” Zhongli says. “Can you sense energy fluctuations?”

“Yes, I can get a reading on the location, intensity, and structure of different kinds of magic.”

“It would be helpful if you kept an eye on us then.” Zhongli gestures to the machine. “There are monitors, but I don’t know how reliable they are.”

“Of course.” Kazuha bows his head. “I’ll inform you if anything feels wrong.”

“Thank you.”

“Well, naturally, I am an expert at banishing demons,” Hu Tao says. “And also, if we need a good motivational speech, I have some notes.”

“Maybe later, Tao-Tao.” Ajax reluctantly pulls away from Zhongli’s arm and steps back into the frame. He feels much calmer now, the vestiges of panic reduced to a dull hum. “Let’s do this.”

“Are you sure?” Those soft, golden eyes burn into him as Zhongli continues his adjustments on the machine.

“Yeah.” Ajax smiles at him. “I’m ready.”

Zhongli moves the panels down and fits the components snug over his body. His hand slides off Ajax’s arm with a last squeeze.

Hu Tao and Beidou give him a thumbs up and Kazuha smiles as Zhongli starts the machine.

“Close your eyes and relax,” his soulmate says. “You should lose consciousness, and then I’ll connect and see you in a second.”

Ajax nods with the little he can move his head. They’ve gone over the procedure. He knows what to expect. “See you.”

With a whir, the machine comes to life and the sensors start glowing. Ajax closes his eyes, and he’s bracing himself to feel something when the world cuts to black very suddenly.

***

Ajax opens his eyes to find himself in a snowstorm. It feels like less than an instant has passed. And this…is actually not what he was expecting. He was expecting darkness or a blank space, but the scenery is all too familiar.

Snow whirls and wind howls through a dirty back alley. It stretches between some dilapidated apartment buildings, past broken, boarded up windows and forgotten clothes lines, a knocked over trash can spilling into the piles of stained snow.

Ajax stumbles forward. He’s not cold. He can’t feel anything.

Like factory workers and fishermen would stumble to work through the blizzard, a huddled mass—

Their apartment…government project housing…apartment blocks made of cheap concrete that can’t keep out winter’s devastation….

There it is. The brown-grey building flecked with white snow. Uniform, monotonous, tiny windows and dull atmosphere. On the second floor is the apartment where he grew up. With the demon that haunted them, that possessed Tonia and nearly killed her—

Why is no one around? The streets are empty as the blizzard grows, and not a single light is on in any of the houses. No smoke from the chimneys. No warmth. No light beyond a white glow that seems to come from everywhere.

“Ajax!”

Zhongli? What is Zhongli doing here? He stumbles towards the voice, and the adeptus materializes out of nowhere in front of him. His eyes glow like beacons in the blinding white.

“Zhongli?” Ajax remembers. The machine. The curse. The test. He staggers forward and grabs him. “Why are we in Morepesok?”

Zhongli grips his forearms. It’s hard to stand as the wind batters them. “It’s like a dream,” he raises his voice over the wind. “Your visualization. You should be able to control it.”

Ajax gazes around at the vicious snow. It whips at them; it should sting but he feels nothing. He tries to focus, to calm the storm somehow, but his own mind is spinning. He feels so loose, tingly. “I can’t…I can’t control it.”

“Come on.” Zhongli pulls him towards the apartment block. “Let’s get inside.”

They start to stumble towards the door, but everything blinks and they are suddenly inside his childhood apartment. Other than the fireplace blazing, there’s no source of light. The stains on the floor, the peeling wallpaper, that musty smell….

A million memories but everything is wrong—

“This is…our apartment.” Ajax is still holding Zhongli’s hand, and he grips it tightly as his mind starts to center. “Where I grew up.”

Zhongli looks around. The wind outside howls and batters the window panes. The fire casts dark shadows over the living room that is strangely empty of furniture. 

“Are we inside my soul?” Ajax asks with a swallow.

“Not exactly. It’s like…the threshold, a gateway. The control panel.”

“Why is it my childhood home?”

Zhongli looks back at him, gaze thoughtful. “Something brought you here.”

Ajax shivers. He knows they’re not actually in Morepesok, they’re in a dreamspace he can theoretically control, but it feels vulnerable to have Zhongli here, his bright energy echoing through the space. They are always connected, but now, there’s a visual construct, a place where they can communicate and connect. The gateway to Ajax’s soul. He feels raw.

“Where’s the curse?” he asks.

“You should know,” Zhongli says. “Can’t you feel it?”

Yes, he can. A white mist…lingering…reaching out in soft tendrils…. Something leaks from under the door to his childhood bedroom.

He brings his free hand instinctively to the back of his neck. The mark there tingles. He wonders if it’s itching in real life, too.

Ajax moves forward, pulling Zhongli with him. Thankfully, the adeptus also seems reluctant to let go. His skin is the only thing Ajax can feel, a radiating warmth that keeps him grounded in the dizzy void.

He opens the door the mist is leaking from. This was a two bedroom apartment. Ajax and Tonia shared, and the little ones would sleep with their parents. Anthon and Teucer were only five and one when they moved, when Ajax bought them a proper house just outside the city.

And Tonia was eight…when she was possessed….

Inside, the room is empty. Strange, because he’s never seen it empty. The furniture didn’t belong to them. It belonged to the building, and they left it behind when they moved.

“This was…my bedroom,” he says to Zhongli. “Mine and Tonia’s. And she….”

Images haunt the edges of his vision, play through the narrow room. And suddenly—

He held his sister as she convulsed on the floor. Her white nightdress and tangled reddish hair, her terrified face and hands that scratched at him. “Brother,” she had whispered. “I’m scared, it hurts.”

Nothing they could do. No money, no options. The helplessness of poverty.

He held his sister and prayed. No gods were listening. They were dead, and the world was at the mercy of those willing to crush others to ascend.

He knelt beside Skirk. Blood pooled beneath her, skin pale, those fierce eyes now empty. Gone, taken, just like that. A future he could have had. His own eyes emptied just as easily.

And Tonia’s screams…their parents’ cries…a baby wailing and Anthon’s wide eyes, not understanding. Ajax ran from the building to find help. Someone, anyone, please….

No one was ever going to save them. What could he have done if he were stronger?

He did get stronger. Strapped to a table as fire poured through his veins. The catalyst, the chrysalis—this curse, a transformation, but instead of a butterfly, he became a monster.

And now it was his victims lying in pools of their own blood. The innocent and guilty alike. For Tonia, for his family.

With no gods and no mercy in this world, it was all he could do to protect them. To defend his own even as his eyes grew emptier and emptier—

“Ajax.”

So even as he corroded himself, corroded his soul, he could never stop. He could never be free—

“Ajax!”

Clash after clash. Scaramouche beat him every time, but he grew stronger. Glimpses of pride in his mentor’s eyes under the sneering anger. He was their weapon. “You have become a fine instrument of death.”

Clash after clash. The two adepti couldn’t prevail. He stood over them and felt no victory. His fate was sealed, a destiny of blood and suffering—

And her prismatic eyes: “I can sense kindness in you, Ajax. If you’re brave enough, you could do the right thing.”

“Ajax, look at me.”

He stood in a room drenched in moonlight and looked down at a beautiful god. Another sin committed in the name of his family. Blasphemy. The nature of this world, to take what you want without mercy—

Something cuts through the memories, a golden light that rocks him, washes over him in steady waves. Something comforting and as intimately familiar as his own mind.

Oh, he didn’t kill Morax. Because Morax is here in front of him, holding his face in his hands. His eyes and hair are glowing, or is he imagining it?

“Ajax, are you with me?” Morax asks. “I can turn the machine off if it’s too much.”

He blinks and reaches out. He’s definitely hallucinating because there are golden lines running all over Morax’s face and his hands are dark. No, wait, this is natural. He’s supposed to look like this, he’s—

My soulmate. He’s Zhongli.

Zhongli pulls his hands back and frowns at them. “What are you doing?”

“I’m doing this?” Ajax says, mesmerized by the pattern on Zhongli’s skin. It sparkles like gemstones, and his eyes glow like the sun. Like the sun bearing down on him, filled with rage, but no—now with care, now with kindness….

Zhongli smiles. “It’s your mind. You control what we see.”

“I don’t know why.” Something tickles, and he looks down. The mist is warping and curling along the floor, caressing his ankle. The only light in the room is Zhongli glowing.

“Ajax.” An ebony hand is on his face again, guiding his eyes back, centering him. “What did you see? I lost you for a moment.”

“Ah.” Ajax swallows. “Just…memories. This...this apartment got haunted. Tonia almost died.” Soft, swirling snow. The Harbinger looked down on him with a piercing gaze. Bloodied and beaten, determined. “I just wanted to save my sister.”

Zhongli is looking at him with a soft frown, and his hand is warm. “You did save her.”

“Yeah.” Ajax watches the geometric patterns run over Zhongli’s face, golden pulses. And you saved me. His erstwhile victim turned soulmate. Turned savior. 

His hope in a godless world.

His chance to live.

“Are you okay?” Zhongli asks.

“Yeah.” Ajax nods reassuringly. They flicker still, the imprints, the ghosts of the past. “It’s just hard to focus.”

Quite hard. A hand over his on a knife. Knives are for killing, but together they can create—

“The curse is here,” Zhongli says. “It’s dormant because of Rayyan’s device, but I can feel it biting at me, even like this. We can try some of the things we talked about now.”

Ajax’s head is still too dreamy to focus on the practical. He tries to shake his attention back as Zhongli withdraws and turns to the room. The room, his childhood bedroom. Tonia’s laughing face glitching with her terror. To save her—

“I think your family would be proud if they knew what you had sacrificed for them.”

“I can’t use too much magic,” Zhongli continues. “Even if we trust everyone here, word could get to the Fatui somehow. But I also….” He sighs. “I don’t know if I even have enough energy to complete the binding and banishing spells I used to use on demons.”

A warm chest against his back in the cold of the desert. A night sky full of stars. That deep voice: “I am but a hollow shell of what I used to be.”

Ajax blinks hard to bring himself back. “Let’s try the first spell we prepared?”

Zhongli nods. In the real world, they gathered the supplies, an amulet borrowed from Kokomi and some other Inazuman components, to perform a basic banishing ritual.

“I won’t leave,” he says. “I’ll stay right here, but I need to do the ritual with Hu Tao in real life.”

“I know.” Ajax smiles. “I’ll be fine.”

Zhongli smiles back, a soft, reassuring thing, and then freezes. His image is still here as his consciousness hovers between the dreamscape and his body outside. Ajax approaches the frozen image. A beautiful, smiling photograph. A slice of perfect time.

He still glows. The gold fractures dance across his skin.

Tiny, webbing cracks that grow deeper and deeper, carve their way into bedrock. Cracks in pottery sealed by gold. Beauty in brokenness. “Strength is a pretty thing to hide behind, and when it crumbles, I have nothing.”

“You have me.”

Let me be your strength.

Ajax can’t help but reach out and trace the image’s jaw. Zhongli has, unwittingly, saved him, gifted him a future he didn’t know was possible. He wants to fight for him, too. He wants to save Zhongli, too.

It kills him, the guilt and helplessness he relates to, and the ineffable grief that scares him to look at. Ajax wants to make it better. To try to take care of Zhongli, to ease his burden however he can. To be worthy of their bond.

Ajax brushes his thumb over Zhongli’s elegant cheekbone. In the rush of memories, the dreamy, dizzy spin of this soulspace, he knows what this feeling is called. There’s no point in shying away from it any longer.

Love. He loves Zhongli. He is in love with Zhongli, and he’s never articulated that thought so explicitly before.

A cosmic fault. A blessing.

Maybe he should rue his own loss of free will, but he doesn’t think of it that way. It’s a blessing. This bond has saved his life, given him a chance. Zhongli’s forgiveness and acceptance mean so much.

Everything, everything, and all the pain and strife of the last ten years have led to this. To this chance to be a good person and make up for his crimes. To possibly inspire the archaic god to take up arms again. To have purpose.

Zhongli has more than made up for his rejection. Ajax can’t imagine the change it takes to forgive someone who imprisoned your family. That he would change for him.

Would Zhongli choose him independent of the bond? Ajax can’t believe that he would, but does it matter? Ajax has been blessed by the universe with a soulmate. Perfect or not, Zhongli is trying his best. Against everything unspoken that Ajax can sense in his soul, he’s trying.

This is all Ajax needs.

Love. He just has to make the best of it.

The ritual beginning interrupts his thoughts. A sharp, throbbing awareness fills the space, much like the biting feeling from when Rayyan was experimenting on him. The mist curling along the carpet grows thicker.

Zhongli’s image comes back to life. He’s not glowing anymore, as Ajax is distracted by the itch intensifying on the back of his neck.

“How does it feel?” Zhongli looks around. Whispers emerge, hissing, growling. A pelting of snow suddenly cracks the windowpane and makes them flinch.

“Not good,” Ajax says.

Zhongli frowns, puts his hands together, and mutters a few, quick chants. Nothing changes. “This should be doing something. It feels like it’s getting angrier.”

“Agh.” Ajax stumbles when an abrupt burning feeling sweeps out from his neck. “It’s…we’re inflaming it.”

Zhongli also winces. “In a good way or a bad way?”

“Like…like heat on a blister.”

“Do you want—” Zhongli freezes again mid-sentence with his mouth open, face tightened in pain.

“Zhongli?” Ajax starts to approach him when everything goes black.

***

He comes to with a gasp and nearly falls out of the machine. Hands are on him, supporting, and a soft voice is saying, “I had to stop you, it was almost awake. I could hear it.”

“What do you mean awake?”

“There was a power surge and it nearly overcame the device keeping it dormant.”

“That spell works on any low-level demon.”

“I’m not sure general-use rituals will be effective here. This is not a possession or even a natural curse, considering the technology involved.”

“In that case, maybe we should—”

Ajax leans forward with a groan and finds a shoulder there. His head is aching viciously, and the back of his neck still burns.

Zhongli is the one holding him up. “Ajax?” 

“How do you feel?” Hu Tao asks.

Ajax opens his eyes to find everyone staring at him, concerned. “I’m…fine. What happened?”

“I sensed the curse waking up,” Kazuha says. “We shouldn’t try that kind of spell again.”

Ajax nods, and the motion makes him dizzy. He leans against Zhongli as he is walked to a chair. His brain feels so full of everything—the grip of the memories, the rawness of having his soul opened, and the reaction of the curse.

“But this is good news!” Hu Tao says to everyone. “We proved that we can do it! We just have to find the right spell.”

“Is trial and error really the best approach?” Beidou frowns.

“It is not,” Zhongli sighs. He keeps a firm grip on Ajax, who is trying his best not to slump out of the chair. “We can’t risk it waking up again. We’ll have to work out the next spell in theory before we put it into practice. We might need to contact our alchemist friend again.”

“It’s still good news!” Hu Tao grins.

“Yes.” Zhongli matches her smile tiredly. “Now that we’ve found the technology we need, there’s some light at the end of the tunnel. With this machine and expert advice, I’m sure we can figure it out.”

“If it’s possible, I want to send a telegram back to my friends,” Hu Tao says. “Both of their tips paid off. They’d want to know we’re close.”

“I can take care of that,” Beidou says. “If you put your message in code, I can get it to Zhenyu.”

“Thanks!”

Everyone grins at each other, and Ajax looks up at them feeling utterly exhausted and overwhelmingly grateful. All these people are willing to help him, to go out of their way and even risk their own safety to give him a chance.

Light at the end of the tunnel.

He looks up at Zhongli with a wince at the pound of his head, and Zhongli looks back at him. They share a smile, and Ajax knows that this is where it’s all been leading. Everything he’s been through, to arrive here with his soulmate and his friends. To be saved and have a chance to help others.

This wandering path has a happy end in sight.

He always knew what he was fighting for, what kept him going even as hope dwindled to a struggling ember. It was family. It was love.

Hu Tao and Zhongli are his family now, too. His strength.

I should tell him, Ajax realizes. Tell him I love him. Not expecting anything. Not to achieve anything. Just because it’s true.

Whether Zhongli would choose him or not, he has to make the best of this love. Zhongli should know what he means to him. I’ll tell him. As soon as I get the chance.

Ajax leans his head on Zhongli’s side, too tired to stay upright, and feels a hand run gently through his hair to soothe his headache.

“Thank you all,” he manages to murmur. “So much.”

Hu Tao’s crimson eyes gleam down at him with enthusiasm. “Is it time for my motivational speech?”

Chapter Text

Ajax really does mean to tell Zhongli he loves him. 

As their days on Watatsumi turn into a week, he looks for an opportunity. They aren’t alone together often, and when they are, they’re discussing spells or worrying over next moves. Or too tired to talk. There are other people around constantly.

At night, Ajax stares over at Zhongli’s bunk, unable to sleep because of all the things that itch at his mind, the nightmares that lurk behind his closed eyelids, agitated as they tamper with his soul. He could wake him up, ask him on a walk. Even now, there are plenty of soldiers patrolling, but they could find a quiet corner….

Ajax is scared, he’ll admit it. He’s never confessed to someone before. Skirk confronted him back in the day, and he’s never been in this kind of situation since. And really, so much is at stake here in this complicated mess.

I’ll do it, he tells himself. Soon. Very soon.

He rolls over and closes his eyes and hopes for happy dreams.

***

“Rayyan has a few suggestions.” Zhongli frowns at the telegram in his hand, trying to decipher it. “We have to account for the polymorphic structure by locating the optimal terminal affectum lymphaticorum. The energy runs in a circuit—”

“Big words,” Hu Tao groans from where she lays on top of a table, tossing an amulet in the air to catch it again. “Translate.”

“I am not a bio-alchemist,” Zhongli says. “But, essentially, there is a difference between, say, burning away a tumor and severing it.”

Ajax watches the path of Hu Tao’s amulet, up-down, up-down. “But it’s a parasite. Wouldn’t it make more sense to kill it where it is?”

“I don’t know.” Zhongli stares down, amber eyes dim. “This is beyond me. But we can’t risk damaging your soul where it’s connected.”

Silence sits heavy in the room as they all think, the only sound the repeated thump of the amulet hitting Hu Tao’s hand.

They really have been making progress. A few telegrams back and forth with Rayyan have led them closer and closer to the solution. But they’re wary to try anything until they know that it will work, at risk of reactivating the tracker.

“We should just find an expert,” Ajax sighs. “Could we load up the machine and take it back to the mainland?”

Every day that passes, his family is being watched. Leaving them under Fatui surveillance isn’t a permanent solution. He’d like to get them into hiding as soon as possible. And tell them he’s not dead. They all agreed that they should focus on the curse, but maybe they should get his family first. They have no idea how long their research will take, and the pace is starting to drag.

“We could,” Zhongli says. “Perhaps we should return with Beidou when she leaves.”

“We could bust into Fatui headquarters and kidnap Dottore,” Ajax mutters. “Make that psycho fix everything he did to me.”

“Oo, that sounds fun.” Hu Tao sits up.

Ajax sighs again and leans against the table next to her. “If only. I’m pretty sure he’s more powerful than most adepti. More powerful than almost anyone.”

“As a last resort, there may be someone we could kidnap,” Zhongli says. “We could go straight to the source, find a scientist who worked on this machine.”

Ajax raises his eyebrows. “That’s much more my style.”

“I have confidence we can solve this ourselves.” Zhongli smiles. “But we should keep it in mind as an option.”

Zhongli of all people suggesting violence indicates the impatience they’re all feeling.

Hu Tao groans and drops her forehead onto Ajax’s shoulder. “I’m done for today. This is too much thinking.”

He pats her head with a smirk. “I thought you like thinking?”

“I’m a philosopher, not a scientist,” she sniffs. “I’m the heart of this group, not the brain.”

“And the brain is…?”

“Zhongli, obviously. And you’re the, uh…muscle.”

“Thanks,” he scoffs.

Hu Tao sits up. “No, wait, you’re the hands! For your delicious cooking.”

Ajax folds his arms. “Are you calling me stupid?”

“No, I’m calling you useful.”

“Still feels like an insult.”

“Don’t worry, Aya.” It’s her turn to smirk. “You have many other admirable qualities. You can cook and clean and lift heavy things. And you’re very pretty. Don’t you think so, Zhongli?”

The adeptus had been watching them with a fond smile, and the smile falls as the slightest tinge of pink appears on his face. “Er…yes.”

Ajax decides to ignore that before his heart can leap out of his chest. “You are calling me stupid.”

“You can’t have everything.” Hu Tao’s eyes shine with mischief. She’s never too tired to tease.

He stares at her, trying to think of a comeback, before giving up with a sigh of affectionate exasperation. “I guess.”

She grins triumphantly and hops off the table. “We make a great team, the three of us. With our combined abilities, we can achieve anything!”

Hu Tao has been taking it upon herself to be the one who gives motivational speeches lately. Not that that position needed to be filled. Truly the “heart” of the group, Ajax thinks with amusement.

“I’m tired, but before I go”—she grabs both of their hands—“let me leave you with a few words of inspiration to get you through this brainstorming.”

Ajax rolls his eyes as Zhongli smiles.

“As the great poet and scholar Master Hu once said, ‘Belief is what conjures fate. One’s desires are but illusions taking shape in the mist. The wise one will find what they believe.’”

“Did you just…quote yourself?” Ajax frowns.

Hu Tao grins. “Good, isn’t it? Sadly, Grandpa said that, not me. I’m cooking up some ideas to top his, though. Just you wait.” She gives their hands a squeeze, then drops them and heads for the door. “Good luck! Believe in yourselves!”

Zhongli sighs once she’s gone. “If just believing could magically make things happen, she’d be a god.”

Ajax laughs. “She has the will to be one.”

“But not the temperament.” Zhongli smiles softly.

Ajax watches him walk back to their research notes and pick up Rayyan’s telegram again. “You say we can figure this out, but I have no idea how to move forward. I’m really lost.”

“We’re close, I swear,” Zhongli says. “There are just a few missing pieces.”

“Well, it’s too much for my stupid brain,” Ajax snorts.

“For the record, I know Hu Tao was teasing, but you are very intelligent.” He looks up and his expression is stern. “Along with your other ‘admirable qualities.’”

Ajax refuses to blush, even at the sincerity in Zhongli’s voice. “Thanks.”

“I am serious.”

“...I know.”

“Not everyone has an aptitude for science, especially since you didn’t finish grade school,” Zhongli, for some reason, continues. “And I have helped with Hu Tao’s homework often enough to know that she has no place to talk. There are plenty of other things that show your intelligence.”

“You don’t have to defend me,” Ajax laughs. “It doesn’t really matter to me.”

“I’d like you to know.” Zhongli’s staring at him, brow furrowed. “You seem to be bent on comparing yourself to me and—” He breaks off, frown deepening. “Ah, maybe I’m being protective again?”

“That’s kind of you.” Ajax smiles a real smile and moves over to where he stands. “I know I’m not stupid, it was just a joke.”

“You do seem determined to compare yourself to me.”

“Yeah, well.” Ajax lets his tone take on a smooth, teasing lilt instead of facing the truth that he really does feel inferior. “You’re just so impressive. How could I not?”

Zhongli doesn’t seem in the mood to flirt. “I don’t want you to. You are also impressive to me.”

Ajax laughs to cover his rising fluster. There he goes again, trying to make him feel better, but the things it does to his heart…. “Thanks.”

“I mean it.” Zhongli turns to him fully, and his intense amber eyes burn away any doubt of his sincerity. “I’m honored to be your soulmate.”

Ajax almost chokes. He stares at this god who once scorned him, at this ally once dragged against his will, at this friend willing to overlook their histories and turn a new page, at this man he’s in love with, at this soulmate who proves time and time again that he’s exactly what he needs—

His instincts tell him it’s a platitude, but he can’t bring himself to believe that. He can feel it, brimming from Zhongli’s soul in beams of warm sunlight. He means it.

Now is the chance. Isn’t it? They’re alone, Zhongli is gazing into his eyes and telling him he doesn’t hate their bond, he may even be happy with it….

The gravity of those irresistible eyes drags Ajax across the space between them, the dance of celestial bodies revolving closer and closer, destined to crash—and he takes his hand. “Zhongli, I….”

Now. Now is the time.

“Yes?”

“I–I—” Ajax freezes. Completely and utterly freezes. Some unknown force takes hold and renders his tongue useless, eloquent confession reduced to nothing more than a half-formed stutter. I love you. I love you, but I can’t…I—

Zhongli frowns and brushes a thumb over the knuckles of the hand that has his in a death grip. “Ajax?”

He slips. It all comes crashing down. A rise and a fall.

“I–I need to take a break, too.”

“Oh.” Zhongli blinks, breaks the hold, the inexorable pull his eyes had. “Alright.”

“Yeah.” Ajax stumbles back, flustered, still gripping Zhongli’s hand. But he can’t. He can’t, he can’t— “I–I just…I’m tired.”

“Of course. Go ahead and rest. I’ll keep working.”

“Yes…yes, I’ll rest.” Ajax steps back, stretching, tearing, crumbling, until his fingers slide from Zhongli’s. Trajectory lost, icy and afloat in empty space…. “I’ll be back.”

He closes the door on Zhongli’s frowning face.

***

Ajax takes a long walk alone, cursing himself.

It was the perfect opportunity, and he ran away. He let fear win. What is he afraid of? That Zhongli won’t return his feelings?  

I’m honored to be your soulmate. That doesn’t mean Zhongli wouldn’t undo this if he could. That he wouldn’t sever their bond if he had a chance. It wasn’t a platitude, but what does it change? He wouldn’t ever—

Gods, what is wrong with me? Ajax wants to slap himself. He needs to stop being afraid of things that don’t matter. Who gives a shit what Zhongli would think of him outside their bond? They are bonded, and yes, Ajax might be stupid, but he’s not blind. Zhongli clearly feels something towards him.

He can’t know how he feels without asking. Without bringing up the topic. As Beidou said, relationships have to start with talking. If not now, then when?

Ajax doesn’t even want anything from him. He doesn’t need his feelings to be returned. He just…. He—

After what must be forty minutes of directionless pacing, Ajax’s feet pause at an abrupt realization.

I said I want to make my own choices now. This is my chance. This is my choice. 

A critical juncture. This is where he can stop being a passive object and decide his own future. He’s been a victim, a tool, a helpless servant for as long as he can remember. Nothing more than a pawn in other people’s plans. All his choices were stolen from him when he signed his life away.

And now something perfect and beautiful is within his grasp. The universe is offering him salvation.

All I have to do is reach out and take it.

The arc, the trajectory, the terminus of his fate may already be decided, but that doesn’t mean he can’t speed it up. He can fight for what he wants.

He spins on his heels, ready to sprint back, and realizes he doesn’t know where he’s wandered.

The tunnel stretches out long ahead and behind him with several junctures. He turns and starts to make his way towards where Zhongli’s energy shines like a faint beacon. No matter how far he wanders, as long as they’re close, he can find his way back. Although, he’s surprised to sense that he’s wandered quite a distance, probably over a mile.

Ajax focuses completely on his soulmate’s energy. He jogs through a large storage cave filled with crates, a musty smell in the air and bare bulbs flickering overhead. He’s almost at the door on the other side when all his instincts—ten years of training and heightened elemental sense—bring his body to a halting stop.

The wards…the alarm wards in this room…flicker out. Disabled. And someone is approaching rapidly—

The door opens and…oh, it’s only Captain Nathan. The rebel soldier steps through and bows. “Sir, I was just looking for you.”

Ajax’s instincts don’t settle. Sir? Why would Nathan be formal with him? In all the time they’ve spent here, the captain has called him and the other guests by name.

“You were?” Ajax says.

“Her Excellency was wondering where you had gone.” 

“I was just taking a walk,” Ajax says. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Allow me to escort you.” Nathan bows again. “These tunnels can be confusing to outsiders.”

Ajax doesn’t move, posture relaxed with every muscle underneath ready, half a mind on the delusion in his pocket. Why are the alarm bells going off in his head like this? Nathan smiles, but something is wrong, something is very wrong. All his instincts flare—

“Okay,” he says.

“This way, sir.” Nathan starts walking towards a different door than the one he came from.

“Isn’t it this door?” Ajax asks. That’s the direction of Zhongli’s energy.

The soldier pauses, and that’s what it is— Nathan is afraid. Ajax can feel it prickling off his aura. Thank the gods for the meditation training he and Zhongli have done because he’s finally not blinded by his soulmate’s energy, at least at this distance.

“That leads towards the western quadrant,” Nathan says. “I was making the rounds looking for you. The others are back this way.”

Why is he afraid? Does he know Ajax’s identity and think he’s a Fatui spy? Kokomi trusts him, but that doesn’t mean the common soldiers would. But in that case…why did he come looking for him alone? Has he been following him?

Why did he disable the wards in this room?

“Why are the wards disabled here?” Ajax asks.

“Wards?” Nathan frowns. “I don’t know anything about wards, sir.”

His expressions, his posture, his voice…everything about Nathan is believable. So why does his aura not match?

Ajax stares at him. Fuck the manipulation and mind games he’s been trained to use. He’s good at them, but he’s not an agent anymore. He can be direct.

“You’re afraid of me,” he says, not a question.

“Afraid?” Now, the captain’s smile starts to wane as the fear ironically jumps in his aura. “Why would I be afraid of you, sir?”

“You shouldn’t be,” Ajax says. “I wouldn’t hurt you. I’m a friend of the resistance.”

“That–that is good to hear.” Nathan’s eyes shift between the door and him. “Now, if you’d like to return to the others….”

“They aren’t that way.”

“Y-yes they are.” The captain grips the strap of his rifle. “I think I would know these tunnels better than you, sir.”

“Nathan,” Ajax says quietly. He wants to give him the benefit of the doubt as long as possible, but the rebel is clearly trying to lead him astray and there’s no one else around who could’ve disabled the wards. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong, sir.” Nathan’s tone grows hard. “Will you please follow me?”

“I won’t,” Ajax says. “Why are you calling me sir?”

“You’re an honored guest.”

Ah, there it is, the smallest chink in his cover, the hint of a lie finally entering his voice. And the hand that creeps towards the pistol on his hip.

“You’d shoot an honored guest?” Ajax says. “I’m not a threat, you know that. Does that mean…you are?”

It’s possible this man hates the Fatui and wants revenge. But more likely, the absolute worse case scenario has come true, the exact opposite….

The game is up with Ajax’s refusal to cooperate. Nathan draws his pistol, the fear in his aura at last entering his eyes alongside an undercurrent of determination.

“You’re right—I shouldn’t call you sir anymore,” he says slowly with unfurling anger. “I wouldn’t shoot a guest. But I would shoot a filthy traitor.”

His arm moves, but before he can even raise his gun, Ajax has crossed the ten feet between them and it’s sliced in half with a crackle of electro. Nathan panics and reaches for the rifle slung across his back, but Ajax kicks him against the wall.

“You’re Fatui?” Ajax doesn’t have time to process this revelation as Nathan surges upward while drawing a knife.

If Ajax is honest, the captain is next to harmless. He catches his wrist with practiced ease and yanks the knife out. He tosses the weapon across the room, and when Nathan once again tries to get his rifle, he just grabs the gun for himself.

Nathan tackles him before he can turn it on him. They tumble to the ground and he attempts to punch Ajax in the face, but with a simple dodge, Nathan’s hand hits the stone floor and the faint crack is covered by a scream.

Ajax throws him off and pivots to his feet to point the rifle at him. He’s barely winded, but Nathan is curled on the ground around his injured hand, breathing heavily.

“You’re Fatui?” Ajax repeats, voice hard. Only an agent would know his identity and call him a traitor.

“Fuck you,” the spy groans.

Ajax keeps the gun trained on him. That’s not a denial. His mind spins with the implication, but he doesn’t have time to think any further because the door Nathan was trying to lead him to opens and he gets his answer.

His sense of foreboding was well-warranted. An all-too-familiar aura enters the room, and Ajax turns the rifle on it without a second thought.

Not a single bullet makes contact. Ajax is an excellent marksman and no human being could dodge a bullet. But magic will always be more powerful than human technology.

The cartridge is empty and every bullet lies useless on the ground. A Watatsumi rebel uniform adorns the unscathed target as he steps forward with his familiar maniacal sneer.

“Someone’s feeling trigger-happy.” The words are a taunt, but the voice that says them is filled with barely restrained rage. “Or just happy to see me?”

“Scaramouche.” Ajax’s every instinct is to draw swords and charge forward. But he doesn’t know if he can take his old mentor in a one-on-one fight. Is Scaramouche alone? He can’t sense anyone else.

The implications of the Fatui finding him don’t have time to take hold. His mind zeros in. Backup. He needs backup. There’s an entire army here.

Ajax is quite good at tamping down panic in an emergency. His body has been shaped for conflict, after all. A clear mind and steady limbs. Never once has he allowed fear to take over in a fight.

But now he allows himself to panic, to send a signal to Zhongli. Feel my fear. Know something’s wrong. Come to me…. He should feel it. He can always feel his pain, no matter how far away.

“Childe,” Scaramouche mocks his greeting. “Or should I say Ajax?”

Ajax tries to shift towards the door, past where Nathan is getting to his feet.

“I always knew you were weak,” the Harbinger spits. “But a traitor?”

Ajax doesn’t reply. Something especially insane burns in those dark blue eyes, and he doesn’t want to provoke it.

“You’ve done well, soldier.” Scaramouche looks at Nathan who salutes with his uninjured hand. “Go back to the rebels. Tell them you were injured in an accident. They should have no reason to suspect your true allegiance.”

“Yes, Lord Harbinger!” Nathan runs from the room with a last, terrified glance at the two of them.

Ajax grits his teeth. Scaramouche clearly has no intention of letting him leave this room if he’s not worried about his knowledge of the mole. But he snuck in alone, disguised as a rebel soldier. No backup of his own.

Zhongli! Ajax projects into the space between them. Nathan’s a spy! Scaramouche is here! Come to me! He knows words are pointless; they can’t read each other’s minds, but he just has to get the emotion through.

“There’s a whole army here,” Ajax says. “You can’t fight them all.”

“I don’t have to.” His old mentor paces closer, unbothered. “No one knows you’re here, thanks for isolating yourself. The wards are disabled, so no one knows I’m here either.” His smile is a threat that borders on something unhinged. “You and I are going to have a little chat.”

Ajax stays silent while attempting to mentally scream to Zhongli. Is his panic not enough? There’s no way not a single rebel has noticed that parts of their ward network are down….

“Our spy tells me you and a certain man are hiding out with the rebels. So?” Clear rage dominates Scaramouche’s attempt at nonchalant interrogation. “Is he Morax? And why the fuck would you run off with your target?”

Ajax realizes what he needs to do. No one will notice the intrusion unless they make a big enough disturbance. Use strong magic that will echo through the entire tunnel system and get someone’s attention. An epic clash that will shake the earth….

 It’s a fight he can’t win easily. In ten years, he’s never won a spar against Scaramouche. He might get himself killed. But the sure way to get Zhongli’s attention is to get hurt.

And what has he been telling Zhongli this whole time? That fighting for the people he loves gives him strength? If there was ever a time to prove the true meaning of strength, it’s now. Win or lose.

Ajax tosses the rifle to the ground and conjures himself a double-bladed spear of pure electricity. Using the delusion he promised to only use in emergencies.

Zhongli, please come to me. I love you, and I’d really like to tell you that before I die. Is the confession burning in his heart strong enough to give him the determination to hold out until help arrives?

“Don’t feel like talking?” Scaramouche mimics him to condense a sword from the air around his hands with a dark smile. “I’m fine with beating it out of you. I’ve been looking forward to this for a long time.”

At least, Ajax thinks dryly before he moves, his old mentor won’t kill him immediately.

He flashes forward, fast as lightning. His goal, more than taking down Scaramouche, is to create a disturbance. That would include destroying this room. Preferably without compromising the structural integrity of the tunnels.

So when Scaramouche easily turns to avoid him, he lets the movement carry him farther, into the wall, and impale his spear into the stone. It parts like butter to the electro, and when he pulls out, twisting his weapon, large cracks are left behind. Not enough force. He needs to shake the earth.

This new delusion is tuned to only electro. Ajax hoped that being in the land of electro would help him draw power, but the ley lines around Watatsumi are more bare than most. The lack of qi won’t help Zhongli either when he gets here. Neither of them will have enough energy to use their full power.

Still, it’s truly electrifying to use magic again. It’s a rush like nothing else, the thrill of an opponent with deadly intent and the intoxicating power seizing his muscles. A dangerous, dangerous rush.

The disturbed ley lines don’t seem to affect Scaramouche. He’s brimming with energy, well fed, as he smirks and rushes forward. Ajax has always known he wasn’t human, and nothing makes that more evident than this moment in which he attacks unrestrained by the rules of a friendly spar.

Ajax barely manages to counter the slice of his sword and it sends him skidding backward. Scaramouche follows before he can adjust, and now they are dancing back and back towards the wall as the older man’s blows contain a vicious rage.

Why’s he so angry? Because Ajax turned traitor? Why should he care? He’s always wanted him gone—

Ajax is pressed into a corner. He flashes forward again, but Scaramouche catches him, impossibly even faster, and a blast of pressurized air sends him tumbling. Ajax rolls back to his feet, and his mentor is already on him again. He doesn’t let up for a second.

Only the instinctual pop of a shield stops some of the blows from reaching his skin. He can hardly block, let alone strike back. 

Ajax tries to look for a opening, but despite being familiar with his moves, there is something unusually intense in those dark eyes. So much for his determination; Scaramouche seems motivated by something utterly murderous.

At the very least, he’s doing a good job of surviving. He’s bought a couple minutes, surely he can last a few more?

Zhongli, where are you?

Ajax succeeds in blasting part of the wall open to the tunnel outside. That’s as much progress as he makes, though, because the next second, he gets thrown into a pile of crates. The musty wood shatters easily so he doesn’t feel the impact, but he feels Rayyan’s device crack a bit in his pocket. No, no no—

He pulls it out and sticks it in an intact crate before pivoting to his feet and flashing across the room. It should be safe in there.

As Scaramouche advances again, a familiar, deep ache blossoms deep in Ajax’s flesh. Far too late, he realizes he doesn’t have his medication. He’s been rationing because he was running out. He didn’t think he’d have to use magic again so soon. 

He’s soon stumbling, limbs slowing, wracked with electrocuting jolts. Scaramouche’s face is alight as he realizes this and batters down his defenses bit by bit. The energy coursing through his body is more debilitating than Scaramouche’s attacks. Without his meds, he’s not going to last long.

He’s not…going to last….

Where are the rebels? Where is Zhongli?

Despite his body breaking down, he hardly feels the pain. His mind is narrowed, focused, and it moves his body of its own accord. Never let down, never falter, his body is a weapon trained for this, built for this. This is where he thrives…right?

With more qi…with the medication…against any weaker opponent—

He trips. A blow knocks him back.

But he can do this. He’s not weak. He’s strong for them, isn’t he? He has to fight for everyone, for Zhongli, for—

Head ringing, limbs shaking, the energy ripping—

Too late.

Not enough.

Without his medication—!

A burst of magic sends him flying into the wall as, at last, he doesn’t have the energy to counter it. He crumples to the ground. Bruised, but fine. Still fine. He struggles to rise on shaking arms. Still fine. He can…he can fight…he’s strong….

“Pathetic.”

Ajax raises a shield just in time against the foot aimed at his head, but the force of the blow ripples the air and becomes a pressure wave that slams him back against the wall. He can’t feel anything, still flooded with adrenaline, and attempts to roll away.

As soon as he puts weight on the arm that countered the blow, he realizes it’s broken. Pain doesn’t register, but his arm gives out. He tries to crawl and—

A hand whips down faster than he can follow and rips the delusion out of his pocket. No, no, no, no—

Scaramouche’s eyes glow with delight as he crushes the gem. It flickers and goes dim. The shards litter the ground around Ajax’s face like tiny, glittering stars.

“Oh, little Ajax. You didn’t learn anything, did you?”

He can’t see. He can’t— He’s—

His head is ringing from where it hit the wall. The world is a blur, and his limbs won’t move.

“Do you yield?”

Hahahah…. Yield? Never, never—

A foot makes contact with his chest and he’s thrown back again.

“Insubordinate traitor,” Scaramouche hisses. “I almost—I almost mourned you.” His words trail into an unhinged cackle. “After everything, everything, you—you betray me like this?”

The world swims back into focus. He doesn’t move. He can’t move. Through the tunnel of the world ending, Ajax manages to choke out, “You…mourned me?”

“Who thought it was possible, right? I hate you.” The insane light in his eyes flickers. Scaramouche was already wound up when he entered the room, and now he’s snapping. “You’ve been a pain in my ass for ten years. I should want you to die.” He grips his shirt over where his heart should be. The fabric strains against the harsh grip. “You almost made me feel something, and that’s unforgivable. I don’t give a shit about you, I don’t give a shit about anyone. And–and you….”

He trails off, seems to realize he’s admitting too much. Ajax’s vision is clearing. The pain is starting to grow, bit by bit, as the adrenaline drains from him. His arm is broken. Maybe other places, too. He can’t tell. The aftershocks of magic scatter, biting, through him and with his delusion gone, he can’t fight. He can’t even stand to run. Where are the rebels? Buy time, he has to….

“I enjoy this.” Scaramouche continues muttering to himself as his eyes gleam down at Ajax. “I-I enjoy hurting you. I-I’m not…I’m not like you. I’m not weak. I don’t have feelings.”

Ajax gazes back up at him, clarity allowing the shock of these words to sink in. It’s not possible, is it? That Scaramouche cares about him?

“Scara—”

“How could you betray us?” Something breaks in his voice at last, a crack in the smooth, porcelain mask.

Even defeated and beaten, Ajax only feels pity. There’s an opening here, something he’s sensed but never tried to take advantage of before…. At least to buy time….

He has a feeling why his mentor thinks like he does. Scaramouche wouldn’t reject emotion so vehemently if he hadn’t been cast aside and betrayed. He wouldn’t speak of power like he does if he hadn’t been robbed of all else.

All these years, Ajax had his family’s love.  He could’ve easily become the same as his colleagues—rejected, feared, scorned, hearts broken again and again. He’s heard the rumors: some were thrown out by their communities, some lost loved ones, some were discarded like trash.

If the Harbingers had been shown basic kindness….

Ajax used to think his family would never forgive him if they learned the truth. But everyone he’s met has given him a chance. Hu Tao forgave him. Zhongli forgave him. He knows it may take a lot of work, but his parents and siblings will too.

Did Scaramouche ever have a family to love him? Someone to give him a chance?

His strength isn’t for fighting…it’s….

Ajax will no longer allow himself to be a victim. He will fight in this way, bolstered by being forgiven, in the name of his newborn hope, because he knows it’s finally his chance to be a good person.

“Scara,” he says softly. “I know what it feels like—”

“No, no, don’t you dare.” The older man takes a step back. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

“Listen,” Ajax manages through the growing aftershocks, “you’re my friend.”

A scoff tumbles into a deranged cackle.

“You’re my friend,” he repeats. “I care about you and—”

“Do you want me to kill you?” Rage returns to light Scaramouche’s dark eyes, and he’s standing over him again, fists clenched.

“We don’t have to do this,” Ajax grits out. “We’re not monsters, we’re just people.”

Sudden, mirthless laughter has Scaramouche bending at the waist. It echoes through the room, a delusion of its own close to cracking. “Who…the fuck do you think you are?”

“Scara, listen—” His body twitches as the jolts grow steadily more excruciating and he starts to rush the words. “I know you think you can protect yourself by getting stronger, but you’re only hurting yourself. Conquering the world won’t make you happy—”

“ I swear— ”

“People make you happy.” Love makes you happy. “I know you think no one cares but—”

Ajax doesn’t try to dodge the foot that slams into his face. It should hurt horribly, it should break something, but it doesn’t. He’s holding back. There’s a chance—

“Shut the fuck up.” Scaramouche’s voice is high and on the edge of falling. “How can you listen to yourself go on like that? It’s disgusting.”

Ajax spits out the blood welling in his mouth. “I…care. I care about you.”

“You betrayed me!”

“No, I…I just left the Fatui.” His stamina is fading fast. “She doesn’t see us as–as people. She’ll break us to achieve her goals. But we don’t have to be their—”

“You think I don’t know that?” Hysteria dances in Scaramouche’s every feature. “I’ll take what I want from the Fatui, and when the time comes, I’ll kill them all and take their empire for myself.”

Abruptly—Ajax feels him. Zhongli’s energy appears on the edge of his radar, stronger and stronger by the second. He’s moving closer, he’s coming.

Buy time…Ajax has to….

He shakes his head weakly. “Aren’t you…aren’t you sick of all this? Of lying to yourself? I was, but I left. I’m free. I’m not–not a monster, and you aren’t either.”

The light falls. It drains from Scaramouche’s eyes with all the rage and madness until they’re dead and empty. 

“I am a monster.” His voice is scarier devoid of emotion, and it sends shivers down Ajax’s spine. “You think I would spare you? I wouldn’t even spare—” His fist closes. “Do you want to know what I’ve done, Ajax? The atrocities I’ve committed here, in my homeland?”

Zhongli is coming. Keep him talking. Ajax gazes up, a silent invitation.

The look in his eyes is one Ajax is very familiar with when he looks in the mirror. “I killed my own mother.”

“Your…mother?” Ajax repeats. Never once has he mentioned family of any kind. He killed—

“My creator, the god who gave me life.” Soft and empty, his eyes. A galaxy devoid of stars. “On the Fatui’s orders, I killed her.”

A god? Here in Inazuma? There’s somewhat of an answer as to what exactly Scaramouche is, but— “You killed the shogun?” Almost three-hundred years ago?

“It’s her own fault for not giving me a heart,” he says, voice still uncharacteristically calm. “If you create a monster, you shouldn’t be surprised when it turns on you.”

“You’re not a monster,” Ajax insists despite his flagging belief in getting through to him. Just a little longer. The jolts spark and grow and his strength is almost gone, but he can feel his soulmate moving ever-closer—

“I kill for fun. Don’t you hate me?” Scaramouche crouches beside him, and Ajax doesn’t have the energy to try to move away. “I know you’re lying. You want to kill me, too. Everything I’ve done to you—you’re going to pretend you don’t care?”

“I don’t hate you.” Ajax’s voice has grown weak, but he tries to put conviction into it. He means it, he really does. He can’t look back at their years of hostility fondly, but he can’t bring himself to hate his mentor either. All he feels right now is pity.

Rage blossoms to once again fill Scaramouche’s gaze in soft, reaching tendrils. “You’re not even a good liar.”

“I don’t,” Ajax says. “I really don’t hate you, Scara.”

In the pause, a violent desperation expands between them. The rage is a hard thing, ready to shatter. Ready to crumble. Ready to destroy everything to defy the insecurity of its foundation.

Scaramouche reaches out, and for a single, heavy second, it seems like it will turn into a caring gesture. Until his hand closes around Ajax’s broken arm.

Ajax jerks back instinctively but his body is too exhausted to do more than twitch. He doesn’t even have the energy to scream, just a muffled shout.

“You don’t hate me?” Somehow it’s Scaramouche’s voice that’s trembling. “Even now?”

“I don’t,” he whispers.

“Liar.”

He’s expecting the squeeze, but that doesn’t make it any better. “I don’t—”

“Liar!”

“I don’t, I don’t, I swear—”

“What does the word of a traitor mean?” The hysteria is back in his eyes, a glow that lights them through with delusion. “You hate me, you have to hate me. You couldn’t possibly—”

Ajax knows the right words. Zhongli’s words. The breaking point, the catalyst of salvation itself, a weapon stronger than any other: “I forgive you.”

Scaramouche retracts his hand as if burned. Ajax can feel tears begin to form in his eyes, his vision blurry, but he stares him down anyway.

“I forgive you, Scara.” He must look insane, smiling through pain. “It’s okay….”

For the first time he’s ever seen, the man in front of him looks horrified. Ajax knows him, he knows him. They spent a decade training together. He watched Ajax grow up, at times acting more like a bully of an older brother than a mentor. They never talked about anything personal, but the weight of time should be enough, shouldn’t it? All his insults and threats to kill him, were they a cover for the friendship he wouldn’t let himself feel?

“I’m sorry I faked my death,” Ajax whispers. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. And I forgive you, I forgive you for it all.”

A war is taking place in Scaramouche’s stricken gaze. A battle of things seen and unseen. Ajax doesn’t know what happened to him, what hurt him, what led him to kill his own mother, but he’s been holding back this whole fight. He could have hurt him, really hurt him, and he hasn’t. He admitted to mourning him. Something in him cares. 

It must.

Scaramouche stares at him as an emotion starts to show, something that could be called regret if it weren’t poisoned by shaky, precarious rage.  As the moment stretches, Zhongli’s energy grows closer. Ajax succeeded in buying a few minutes and soon they’ll arrive.

But Scaramouche freezes and his head jerks up to the ceiling. Panic flashes, he must sense it too. “Shit, they’re coming.”

“Scara—”

“Was that your plan?” Abrupt fury overwhelms any vestiges of softness. “Keep me talking?”

“No, Scara, no.” Ajax, too, would panic if he could work up the energy to do more than whisper. “I mean it. I forgive you.”

His old mentor lets out a long, slow sigh. And then all of history hardens in his eyes.

“That’s…an effective technique, little apprentice.” Scaramouche smiles, a trick, a delicate lie. “But unfortunately for you, I truly don’t have a heart.”

Ajax can hardly feel his stomach drop as Scaramouche pulls out a small tranquilizer patch and sticks it, almost gently, on his neck.

“Orders were to bring at least one of you back alive, so you’ll have to do for now.”

Ajax tries to speak, but the drugs hit his bloodstream instantly. He fades fast, the black rushes up to take him before he can think any more than a useless prayer, a last whisper into empty space:

Zhongli, get my family.

Chapter Text

“Do you have them?”

A soaked Xingqiu stands before Zhongli, eyes wide at the growl that he can’t keep out of his voice. His blue hair is plastered to his head from the rain, skin pale in the flash of lightning that fills the hotel room.

The young vigilante’s face is grim and determined. “Yes, they got across the border, they’re headed through Fontaine.”

The hotel room door clicks shut and Hu Tao joins them. “I just—” A boom of thunder interrupts her. “Just talked to Beidou. She’s got the machine in her warehouse. It’s safe from the storm.”

She glances at the window. Outside, the rain of a late summer Liyue typhoon beats furiously against the building. The warm, dim lamp isn’t enough to fight the grey light flooding the room.

“His family is in Fontaine,” Xingqiu repeats to Hu Tao.

“Oh, thank the gods.” She sags onto the end of one of the beds. “They’re coming here, to the Harbor?”

He shakes his head and drops of water spatter. “There’s a safehouse in northern Liyue. That’s the first stop, and then— Xiansheng?”

The two teenagers stare as Zhongli grabs his coat off the back of a chair and starts to slip his arms in.

“Zhongli?” Hu Tao leaps to her feet. “Where are you going?” Her face is pale and terrified, has been since—

Another wave of pain stops him in his tracks and a deep, unbidden growl slips from his lips. He can barely hold it together enough to talk to these two. He’s sure he’s scaring them, but something irrational has taken over since—

Since he first felt his agony, a burning that danced through his body, and he took off, left everyone else behind as he sprinted through a maze of tunnels—

Since he ran, since he rushed to the beach, only to see a ship disappearing over the horizon—

Since he fell to his knees in the sand and felt his soulmate’s energy draw further and further away until, for the first time in months, he was left absolutely, devastatingly alone—

Since they ran to Beidou, prepared her ship in a rush, but too late…he knew it was too late. If he could fly, he could’ve caught the ship. But he was too weak. Useless. Unable to protect anyone—

Since, once again, he was forced to face the reality that he had lost everything....

He’s replayed it over and over. Those beautiful blue eyes filled with conflict as his hand slid from his. What was Ajax going to say to him? Why did he leave so suddenly? How did the enemy manage to capture his fierce soulmate? What are they doing to him now? He can feel it, but he can’t imagine it, he doesn’t want to imagine it—

He calms his voice enough to manage, “I’m going to get him.”

“Zhongli.” Hu Tao looks on the edge of tears as she steps forward. “We don’t even know where he is.”

“I know exactly where he is.”

There’s only one place he could be. This drawn-out game is up.

“Zhongli.” He looks at her and knows she knows. “It’s a trap. You can’t just walk in there. They figured out he’s your soulmate.” Hu Tao moves to him, grips the front of his coat as if to rip if off. “That’s why they’re doing this. They know how to get to you.”

“I know.” Zhongli fights to keep his voice soft. Ajax told him himself that they would use him as bait. They’ll know we’re bonded and they’ll use it against you. They’ll do such horrible things to me that you’ll have to come save me to make the pain stop.

And yes, the pain is ever-tickling, a burn in the back of his mind. But that’s not why he has to—

Hu Tao swallows the tears. Brave, his sister is always so brave, even as he— “If you walk in there you’re both dead.”

Zhongli has no rational arguments for her. He pries her hands off his coat and starts to walk towards the door.

“We all want to save him!” She blocks his path. “Please, just—”

“A plan.” Xingqiu joins her. “Let’s make a plan. It’s not impossible with a little time.”

“There’s no time,” he growls. “I’m going now.” He can feel it, each second that passes, Ajax’s suffering, and it’s been three days already, he won’t wait a minute longer—

“Zhongli, you can’t rush off. You just can’t.” Hu Tao shakes her head. “We have to think.”

Zhongli is done thinking. He’s done sitting around and letting things happen. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t care anymore.

It’s a chillingly familiar feeling, and he realizes now it’s the same he felt when he saw Azhdaha’s dead body. A terrifying, mounting rage that shatters all rationality. A fatalistic, devastating fury fueled by despair. The same feeling that led him to slaughter his husband’s murderers and fall into a coma of grief three hundred years ago.

It boils over as his friends try to stop him. He doesn’t care. He will storm to the snowy capital and take what is his no matter the cost. He will tear this cruel world apart. He will kill everyone who—

Zhongli feels his eyes flashing, actually flashing, the itches of transformation leaping through his muscles like wildfire. If Xingqiu had any doubts about his identity, they’re surely gone now as he feels his stature try to grow, fangs and horns try to sprout, but weak, he’s too weak to transform—

If anything is evidence of his panic, distress, how hard he’s fighting to maintain control, it is how his body tries to transform. Rage struggles to grow, to generate determination, amidst the sobering knowledge that he can’t...he can’t win....

“Xingqiu,” Hu Tao says quietly, “could you give us a minute?”

The rain-soaked teenager hurries from the room and closes the door behind him.

“Zhongli....” She approaches him, though his body continues to strain against its own weakness. “I know how you feel.”

He lets out a choked laugh. 

“I care about him, too,” she says sternly with tears in her eyes. “I can’t...feel what you’re feeling, but I want both of you to be safe. He wouldn’t want you to storm in there and die for no reason.”

All Ajax cares about is his family getting to safety. And they have. There’s no point in this charade and Zhongli will not wait a second longer.

“There are other options.” Hu Tao’s voice shakes. “You can’t save him like this.”

There are no other options. There is no way out. He’s done. He’s so done. He will not sit around making a plan while his soulmate is suffering. He waited before and he will not make the same mistake twice.

“I’m leaving,” he growls.

“Zhongli, please.” Hu Tao reaches out for him again, takes the hand that still struggles to grow talons, and her voice almost breaks. “Don’t.”

It’s a small word, a powerful word, dark in its desperation, overwhelming in its plea. It calms the rage wracking his body, halts the attempts to transform.

He looks at her, his little sister, her brimming crimson eyes, the fear there. A butterfly willing to face the fury of a dragon.

The blizzard in his mind settles. He promised to protect her, too. He promised to be her family forever, to take care of her.

But he never promised not to leave her.

Zhongli takes her hand in both of his now-human ones. “Tao’er, listen, you’ll be safe with your friends.” He doesn’t want to hurt her, he can’t hurt her, but she’ll be safe, she’ll be okay. “I love you. You saved me in more than one way and—”

“No.” She wrenches her hand out of his and steps back, shaking her head. “Don’t. Don’t you fucking dare say goodbye to me.”

“You do know how I feel,” he says quietly. “You lost your family, too, I know, and I’m so sorry, but you understand right? I’ve lost everyone, every single person, and I have to do something right this time. I can’t. I can’t, Tao’er. Can’t let them hurt him. I can’t live like this. I have to go.”

“Let’s go together then.” Tears in her eyes, fists clenched. “I can fight.”

Zhongli hasn’t won this argument once. At every juncture, she easily ignored his insistence of the danger. But now, without words, she seems to see the fatalism in his eyes, understand that there is truly nothing she can do.  Her fire is at last tempered as she starts to cry.

If anything is indicative of the gravity of the situation, it’s Hu Tao giving up.

She stares at the ground and wipes her eyes. “A plan, at least, Zhongli? Will you think of something?”

“I’ll think about it on the way,” he says softly.

When Hu Tao looks back up, he sees the despair harden into determination in her eyes. The tears continue flowing down her face as the sky outside lets out its own flood. She’s always been so strong. So brave. She doesn’t deserve this.

“I won’t let you say goodbye.” Her voice is hard through her tears. “You’re going to get him and come back to me, you understand?”

It’s a command. She doesn’t ask for a promise. It’s one he couldn’t keep anyway. He’ll do his best to follow his boss’s orders, but....

He pulls her into an embrace. “I love you.”

She grips him back tight, too tight, with the gravity of eight years, with the force that keeps families together through anything. “I love you, too.”

They hold each other for a long minute before before he draws back. Zhongli won’t say goodbye, as she wishes. He turns to leave. And hand on the doorknob—

“Morax?”

He looks back because in eight years she has never once called him by his true name.

Her voice has gained back its strength, and her eyes are dry. “Remember who you are.”

***

Even in the height of summer, snow falls in the land of eternal winter.

Zhongli strides through the dark, snow-dusted streets with purpose. He doesn’t feel the cold. He doesn’t feel anything. His mind is clear. Power—not enough, he knows—rushes and pulses through his veins. 

The absolute absurdity of his actions fails to hit him.

He is mindlessly, willing, walking into the lion’s den with no plan. With nothing but rage as a weapon. He’s just as malnourished as before; he doesn’t have enough energy to fight one Harbinger, let alone an army of Fatui agents.

He has lost his mind. Like the day his husband was killed.

And he doesn’t care at all.

All rationality has been stripped by the vortex expanding in his chest, and the only thing filling his thoughts is Ajax. Until he sees his soulmate safe, the storm within him will not calm.

Zhongli knows, distantly, that this is insane. He knew it from the moment he left Hu Tao, boarded a train, raced here with no plan. No one tries to stop him as he strides forward through the snowy streets. No one tried to stop him on the train here either. The passport officer’s eyes lit up when they saw his documents, but they let him through every check without question.

He’s a wanted fugitive, and the lions are all too willing to let him walk into their den.

It’s insane. He is throwing away his life. He knows this.

But he can’t...he can’t stop himself. Even if he wanted to. Both their families are safe. He is all Ajax has. He has to.

The purpose flooding him isn’t enough to numb the pain.

An addiction, he once called a soulmate bond. It’s undeniable, the withdrawal he feels from being separated. Ajax’s energy, a warm, comforting blanket, was ripped from him, and now he’s shivering in the freezing, empty world. The need to drown in him again is overpowering.

But it’s more than that. More than the things he’s felt them do to draw his attention. Pain alone could not move him. He is unshakable in his stubbornness and he would rather die than allow someone to manipulate him like this, to allow himself to be baited.

No, it’s not the pain. It comes down to one thing, one memory: hope-struck dead eyes and arms tight around him and a whisper of You have me.

It comes down to the fact that Ajax deserves to be saved and he is Zhongli’s last chance to do something right.

He has to do this one thing right.

Zhongli has lost everyone. He can’t live with his own weakness anymore. He’s utterly sick, utterly done with loss after loss, and if this path ends in disaster, so be it. If the universe wants to destroy him, it can go ahead and strike him down because this is the last straw.

He felt it since his conversation with Venti. He’s been teetering on the edge for so long, waiting for that push to go tumbling back into the warlord he once was. The god who would slaughter legions of demons to keep his people safe. The person who worked tirelessly for millennia in the hope that he could build a better world.

You say you’re not a god anymore, but you’re still trying to protect people, aren’t you?

He thought Morax was dead. Zhongli tried so hard to pretend he was dead because Morax failed. He let his family be killed, he let his country fall to ruin, he deserved to die. Zhongli is not Morax, he can’t be Morax because he can’t live with his own failure. And if he can’t live with it, he must be dead.

He cannot be who he used to be because that self is someone he hates.

It’s not your fault. He wishes he could believe that. He wishes he could forgive himself and move on. He wishes he could have a future where he isn’t held down by the past. Perhaps today Zhongli can atone for the sins of Morax.

Perhaps, by giving everything for Ajax, he can do something right.

Ajax, impossibly, believes in him. His soulmate is a beacon of light in the cold, barren wasteland of Zhongli’s heart. A spark that could light inspiration long dead. An enigma, a paradox, the force that complements and balances him—someone who, despite all evidence to the contrary, believes that Zhongli can be whole again.

Their time together has barely begun. Zhongli has so much left to learn. He wants to see Ajax smile again, bring that hopeful light back to his eyes. He won’t let it end here.

He will kill everyone who has laid a hand on his soulmate.

He will prove to the world that there may be some strength left in him yet.

He will fight. Without a plan. Without hope. Without qi to power him. Against an enemy that rules the world. It’s a pointless sacrifice, but this is his choice. All he knows is that he has to try.

Fatalism carries him forward through the snowy streets, an intoxicating rush like nothing else. No one ever told him that going willingly to your death could feel this liberating. If he has lost his mind, he has also lost his chains, and it feels good.

Zhongli has only one regret. But Hu Tao has friends and a strong spirit. She’ll move on. She’ll become a freedom fighter and do some good in this world in the name of her fallen god....

Unlike every country they’ve visited recently, Snezhnaya is almost unrecognizable. Snezhnayan architecture used to be defined by the old churches of the Cryo Archon, their beautiful, bright blue and yellow domes, spires and arches. Now the capital has become a tumble of ugly skyscrapers that reach for heaven like grubby fingers. The pure snow that laid over everything is now stained by the waste of industry.

Zhongli doesn’t know what happened to the Cryo Archon, Barnabas. She vanished like so many others around the time he went into hibernation. Barnabas was a benevolent, fair ruler. A strong warrior who protected her people. 

The two of them were good friends once, both suited to war, determined wills who never missed their marks. Liyue and Snezhnaya were allies, prosperous and strong together, instead of the petty politics of today. This country didn’t used to be so barbaric. Now that Barnabas is gone like so many, it has become a breeding ground for the devastating consequences of human greed.

It’s ironic that the god of love’s legacy has been a people so capable of cruelty.

Today, a growling mass of snowclouds flecked through with lightning make war with patches of amber sky. In the dying light of day, the growing storm rumbles over the cold, dirty city as he arrives at his destination.

No one tries to stop Zhongli as he slams open the doors of Fatui Corp Headquarters. The lobby is disgustingly decadent, marble floors and fancy furniture. A splendor that comes at the price of the common people’s lives. People like Ajax, ripped from his home, turned into a weapon.

He’s at last here, in the headquarters of the enemy. The people who have hunted his family, who have his children imprisoned somewhere. If he had any energy, he would rip the place apart without a single thought.

Dozens, hundreds, of military-grade wards lay all over the building. Wards he couldn’t break unless he had his full strength. They hide secrets, some alarms are tripped at his presence, and some damper the use of magic.

But one thing could never be masked: Ajax’s energy.

He can feel him. He’s close. The energy captures his senses, wraps him up in his soulmate’s presence again. That beautiful, soft blue, that ocean so layered in complexity, the azure void that draws him in every time.

Something is dark and faint about Ajax’s aura. It’s cloudier than usual, harder to connect to, even as he reaches out, desperate, grasping. What have they done?

As soon as Zhongli bursts into the lobby, all eyes are on him. The lobby is huge, mahogany reception desks and marble staircases lined with velvet, an intimidating crystal chandelier and a set of gold elevators at the back. Several dozen people are here, businesspeople and guards, Fatui and guests.

Zhongli is not trying to hide. He allows his aura to thrum with energy, to let every magically-aligned person know who he is, to indicate that he hasn’t come in peace. He is at his weakest, yes, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t the most dangerous person in the room. He could cut his way through a hundred Fatui agents before their collective strength would overwhelm him.

“Your Majesty!” A clear, mocking voice rings through the lobby as a familiar presence strides out to greet him. “Welcome to Snezhnaya. Fatui Corp is honored to receive you.”

It seems both sides have dropped all charades. Of any person in the world to once again greet him as an emperor, he didn’t expect it to be a servant of the enemy. The Harbinger Scaramouche stops in front of him and makes a short, sarcastic bow.

Zhongli doesn’t bother to greet him in response. Ajax’s old mentor’s face is painted with a sneer, and how Zhongli would love to rip it off him. He’s the one who took him, isn’t he? He— But no, he can’t attack anyone until he finds Ajax.

“Where is he?” The inhuman growl he can’t keep out of his voice ripples through the air.

It’s not enough to intimidate the Harbinger. “You know, this explains a lot. I can’t believe a soulmate is all it took for the mighty Morax to—”

“Where is he? ” Zhongli steps forward, and his claws strain to emerge against his lack of energy and the oppressive wards.

“He’s waiting for you.” That smirk doesn’t fall as Scaramouche gestures for a masked agent to come forward. “We’ll take you to him.”

Zhongli thought he’d have to fight his way in, and as much as he knows this is a trap, his heart leaps.

The agent also bows. “Please follow me.” 

Scaramouche watches them go, painted smile like a trick of the light. “I’d love the honor of dealing with you myself, but, well....” He trails off ominously.

Zhongli chooses to ignore him as his heart pounds. He’ll deal with him later. He’ll deal with every single person who ever—

The agent leads him down a decadent hallway to a hidden elevator and punches in a code. He steps in beside her, impressed at her upright, unflinching posture. He could kill her with trivial ease, but these little humans have so much arrogance.

The elevator zooms upward. Which Harbingers wait for him above? The one who took him ten years ago? Or the one who experimented on him? Or their leader? The people who desire to tear his family apart bit by bit?

Or the reclusive CEO herself? The woman even Ajax knows almost nothing of? The one behind everything, responsible for all the suffering the two of them have been through? The one who ordered Zhongli’s children kidnapped and trapped Ajax in this life?

Energy flutters through his fingertips and a growl rises in his throat. An alarm sounds, elevator panels flashing, as a ward is activated, but the agent just reaches forward and silences it. The slightest hint of nervousness now curls in the space between them.

Good. He will show them. He will not go down without a fight. He will take as many of them with him as he can. Now, at the end, when nothing matters, when the bitter dreams of revenge and hope run wild through his veins once again, when even he can’t hold himself back—

The top floor appears abandoned. He can’t sense a soul in sight as the agent leads him down a long, lavish hallway.

Ajax is here. His energy is overwhelming as always, blinding him, drawing him forward. A siren calling in the night.

Zhongli has already lost all care. He was perfectly aware that it was a trap. The lack of people is suspicious, but all his attention is on Ajax, straight ahead. 

The agent leaves him at a massive, wooden door with a bow. “In here, Your Majesty.” She hurries back down the hallway as if to get as far away as quickly as possible.

Ajax is on the other side. He doesn’t hesitate before shoving it open and striding through.

The room is an office the size of a penthouse. The dark, ornately carved wood ceiling must be thirty feet high. There are two walls of windows with heavy drapes drawn back to reveal a cloudy sky over the cityscape. Lights begin to sparkle in the adjacent skyscrapers as the sun’s light fades. Maximum-security wards guard the glass. A marble fireplace roars in a corner and a clutter of expensive furniture fills the space, but Zhongli has eyes for only one thing.

Ajax sits in a plush leather chair in the middle of the room. Dim, warm lamplight highlights his face, half in shadow. He’s slumped against the back of the chair, unconscious.

Zhongli rushes to him as the flood of their energies reconnecting hits him like a waterfall. Ajax’s aura is faint, so faint, muddled, but he looks unharmed.

He takes his face in his hands. His skin is cold and pale, but he looks fine, no marks or signs of injury. In fact, he’s clean, groomed, dressed in a fancy black suit and fur-lined cape. Zhongli felt his arm break a few days ago when he was captured, but now it looks healed. Whatever he felt them do left no evidence.

As soon as Zhongli’s hands make contact with his skin, the back of his neck flares where Ajax has his demon mark. He winces and retracts his hands. The curse billows through their connection, a cloud of poison, its biting stronger than ever.

It wants to destroy him, the threat to its monopoly on its prey. A parasite unwilling to share.

Zhongli pulls Rayyan’s device out of his pocket. He found it in the room where Ajax was taken; the human evidently had the foresight to hide it. It’s cracked but flickers to life when he presses the button, still mostly functional.

It does nothing to the curse now, however. Meaning the person on the other end of the connection is near.

“Ajax, it’s me.” Zhongli shakes him slightly, brushes the hair off his forehead, feels his pulse. “Wake up. Let’s get out of here.” This is a trap, he knows. But if he can somehow grab Ajax and run—

Then he feels it.

A presence, an unmistakable, familiar presence.

A different door opens, and someone paces in. White hair. Empty white eyes. Even a white suit. Pure like an angel. Like the snows that cover her country.

A face he would recognize anywhere.

“Barnabas?” His voice is a snarl as everything in him screams enemy, enemy, enemy—

“Morax.” That voice, a tinkle of cascading ice. A voice he would share stories and laughter with. That smile, a smile that was warm like the promise of spring, like the mercy of winter’s end, like the love that keeps one strong through fiercest storm.

“Dear, dear Morax.” Now her voice is sharp and her smile is cold. The former Cryo Archon walks to the desk and leans on its edge, unnerving white eyes focused on them like they’re a meal ready to devour. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it? I’ve wanted to see you again for so long.”

Oh, how Zhongli would like to give his old friend the benefit of the doubt, but the evidence is damning. Her presence leaves no room for interpretation: Barnabas is the Tsaritsa, the CEO of Fatui Corp, Ajax’s master and the perpetrator behind it all.

“Barnabas, you’re alive?” Zhongli keeps a tight grip on Ajax’s shoulders, his voice a low growl with the rage that carried him here. “You’re the CEO? You betrayed our people? ”

When he learned of the other gods’ fates, he felt nothing but despair. But today is different. His old friend is responsible for the imprisonment of his children, for the suffering of his soulmate, and now she clearly intends to take him too. Zhongli feels nothing but violent, desperate fury.

“Betrayed?” Her eyebrows lift in mocking surprise. “We already lost, Morax. What was there to betray?”

“What does that mean?” he spits, two seconds away from pointlessly charging at her.

Barnabas sits on the edge of the desk, folds her arms, and looks at them with a smile. Unthreatened by the waves of anger flooding from him.

When Zhongli focuses past Ajax, he can now sense the adeptal energy she exudes. What he finds is a god at the height of her power; clearly she has been feasting well these centuries while he starved. She could kill him with ease.

Barnabas lifts a hand in a shrug. “If you can’t beat them, join them. The age of gods was over. Why shouldn’t I profit from it?”

“You joined the humans.” Zhongli’s skin crawls with the itch to transform. But he can’t, the wards in this room are too strong, his energy is not enough. The trap has closed.... “The people who killed our kin?”

“I survived.” Her voice loses its smooth arrogance, turns to a bite. “I adapted. This is simply the nature of our new world.”

“Our friends,” he growls. “You killed our friends and took their power for yourself?” So many gods and adepti lost, their homes and cultures destroyed, and she smiles—

“There’s no high ground anymore, Morax.” Her expression is devoid of shame. “The gods are gone and morality is mine to decide.”

“How could you do this?” Zhongli straightens to his full height, a hand still balancing Ajax, but damn it all, he can’t...can’t transform.... “How could you participate in the genocide of your own people? You were the god of love—did that mean nothing to you? Did we mean nothing to you?”

A hint of madness gleams in her glowing white eyes. “The best cure for a broken heart is taking what you want without mercy. You can’t lose anything if you own everything.”

A broken heart? Her own friends and allies were killed, and her response was to side with the enemy? There was fault on all sides, and the hatred and shame that festers within Zhongli has many targets, most of all himself, but this...this is too much. While the others fell, while he watched his family die, she was profiting?

What kind of twisted logic could justify such a stance? And yet here she is, the CEO of a corporation that treats humans and adepti alike as batteries and rules an entire country with an iron fist. What heartbreak could justify tearing the world apart?

Zhongli can’t believe this, the transformation of his just and kind friend to a tyrant he barely recognizes. He’s caught between trying to reason with her, to understand, to process this revelation, and giving in to the urge to strike, to attack, to unleash his fury because at the end of the day, it was her. She’s the one who’s taken so much from him.

The betrayal cuts devastatingly deep, and he’d be mourning the loss of a friend if the thundering call for vengeance weren’t singing through his veins.

“I’ve missed you, Morax,” Barnabas says, sounding sickeningly sincere. “But at last you’ve come to me. Willingly, no less. You and the others who have evaded me will soon find a new home in my dungeons.”

“The–the others?” His fist clenches.

Barnabas stands and paces to the fireplace. Even the roaring light of the flames fails to bring warmth to her lifeless, pale skin as she gazes into them.

“Barbatos and Buer remain beyond my reach. But soon the stars will align and all the pawns will fall into place. We’ll all be together again, like the old days. Well”—she smirks—“some of us at least.”

“Some...?”

He doesn’t want to know, doesn’t want to hear the answer to his own question, but she looks up, flames dancing in her eyes. “The god of war fell first, ironically enough. Focalors went easy, too distracted by the corruption in her government to notice that justice was already dead. And dear Beelzebub...what happened to Baal destroyed her. It was trivial to take advantage of her weaknesses. Killed by her own creation...pitiful, really.”

“You killed them?” A rug is swept out from under Zhongli’s feet, and he stumbles. How could she?

“No, no.” Barnabas laughs. “The humans killed them. Their own people turned on them. I merely happened to profit from the chaos.” Something rigid in her eyes cracks like ice at threat of spring’s thaw. “Everything was always going to turn out like this, you see. I alone had the foresight to adapt.”

“If you thought so, then you let it happen,” he growls. “And now you’re trying to kill me?”

“If you’d like to think of it that way.” She shrugs. “As I said, justice is dead. And no, I won’t kill you.”

“You’ll use me as a test subject, steal my energy, drain me until there’s nothing left—”

“Well, yes.” Barnabas is smiling still, eyes flashing in the firelight. “But that is your proper place now. You failed, Morax. The new world has no mercy for a fallen god.”

He failed.... He certainly did fail, and now greed has corrupted everything, even the god of love, the most steadfast heart among them....

Zhongli realizes, suddenly, chillingly— “You knew all along, didn’t you?” He looks down at Ajax, soft and unconscious in the chair. The god of love....

Barnabas laughs, an icy, bitter thing that rings through the room.

“That’s why you laid a claim on him,” he continues to realize. “You could sense in his soul that we were connected. You wanted to manipulate me.”

“Indeed.” She smiles. “I knew the moment little Ajax entered this building that he was your soulmate. Not only that—you were still alive. I made an investment ten years ago, and now it’s paying off.”

Zhongli’s hand clenches on Ajax’s shoulder. What a sickening, despicable—

“I crafted a weapon and waited for you to show yourself. Then I sent him to bring you in knowing you couldn’t kill him.” She sighs. “I counted on his love for his family to lead him to sacrifice himself. Foolish of me, perhaps, to think my loyal dog wouldn’t break his leash.”

“You....” She wanted Ajax to find him, for their bond to manifest, and then expected Ajax to use himself as bait to lure Zhongli back here?

“He surprised me. He ran off with you instead of prioritizing his family.” Barnabas paces back to the desk. “Humans are adorable, aren’t they? So dangerous left to their own devices. So fascinating. After thousands of years, I still don’t understand them.”

Zhongli feels like an idiot. The things that gave him pause, the holes in Ajax’s story...they’re glaringly obvious. Was it not too perfect that the man sent to assassinate him just happened to be his soulmate? Was Ajax’s confusion at why the CEO would take him under her wing not cause for deeper thought?

“Still, I brought you here in the end. You came to me willingly.” Barnabas turns back to them and deadly sharpness returns to her smile. “Where is the ruthless Morax I knew? The god who could slaughter thousands with a flick of his spear? You’ve become so weak, so pathetic. A little pain and you come running.”

Zhongli growls, body once again straining to transform. She should know, the god of love should know better than anyone, that it was no physical pain that brought him here. Not that this twisted version of her still has any understanding of the emotion.

“Oh?” Delight warps her features. “Or is it that you love him? Even better.” She takes a step towards them, and her form flickers with power, eyes a flash of lightning. “I hold the key to bringing the mighty Morax to his knees.”

The air between them charges, and the taste of ozone floods his mouth. She’s going to make a move—

“Our human here has been my secret weapon all along. My pawn that’s reached the other end of the board. And now it’s time to take the helpless enemy king.”

Barnabas’ thin lips form a sneer, and Zhongli steps in front of Ajax. He knows he can’t win; she’s as powerful as she was in the old days and he...even as he focuses, there is no source of energy, nothing to draw from. The heavy wards bear down on him, unbreakable barriers at every possible exit.

“You made an impressive attempt to break the bond I have with him,” Barnabas says. “But now that he’s near me, there’s nothing you can do. You figured out the nature of the curse, didn’t you? I know his whereabouts at all times, and while he’s near me, he’s quite suggestible to my commands.” Shadow falls across her eyes, a white glow in darkness. “Want a demonstration?”

Zhongli scarcely has time to panic. Demonstration? What could she—?

“Tartaglia.” Her voice echoes across the room, sharp and cutting. “Wake up.”

He hears Ajax stir behind him and whips around to see his soulmate rising from the chair, steady on his feet as if he hadn’t been imprisoned and unconscious up until this moment, and—and his eyes....

“There you are, my loyal soldier,” Barnabas says. “I’d like you to fight this intruder.”

“Ajax....” Zhongli stares, devastated, into empty blue eyes that gaze past him, utterly expressionless. He looks back at the other god with ice in his veins. “That’s impossible. He can’t hurt me, we’re soulmates.”

“Hm.” His old friend smirks, face alight in a mad gleam of victory. “Shall we find out which bond is stronger? Tartaglia, take him.”

And no, no no no— “Yes, my lady.”

“Ajax!” Zhongli turns back to his soulmate to find those eyes—those beautiful blue eyes once filled with light—focusing on him with no recognition.

And before he can speak, a blade of ice jumps towards his throat.

Chapter Text

It would be a beautiful dance, a test of jade and ice, if Zhongli’s world weren’t ending.

Ajax is a machine, fluid and precise, eyes empty and calculating, twin blades of ice like glints of amber in the firelight. He’s a whirl of powerful strikes, each dodged by Zhongli as they dance back across the room. But the very fact that he can attack, unhindered by the force that has stopped their limbs every time....

Zhongli didn’t notice the cryo delusion glittering on his belt until he stood. Ajax is brimming with energy, enough to be a serious threat, but that much adeptal energy is dangerous to a human...the delusion could kill him.

Zhongli could simply dodge every move—he’s still faster—but he’s looking for an opportunity to strike at the god who watches them duel with a delighted sneer. He can’t keep up this evading game forever.

A jade vase stands on a pedestal near the door. It takes almost no magic to shape the stone to a sword, and as Ajax’s blades come down on him, Zhongli counters.

Ajax bears forward, strains to break the block. His expression is blank, even with the force behind his moves, and he still doesn’t seem to recognize—

“Ajax!” Zhongli hisses as their swords struggle. “It’s me. Wake up.”

He accompanies the words with a mental hand reaching out to Ajax’s soul. They’ve become so adept at melding their energies that it usually feels like second nature to become one, but now, instead of the soft flow of Ajax’s energy, Zhongli is met with a harsh wall of poisonous mist that burns his every attempt to connect with his soulmate.

The human is unmoved. Zhongli makes to shove him off, but the bond—their soulmate bond—still won’t let him do anything that could hurt Ajax. He stumbles, and Ajax takes advantage of this to plunge his blade—

It glances off a non-existent shield and Ajax’s motion sends him falling into Zhongli, who recovers in time to reach around and pin his arms to his sides.

So Ajax can’t hurt him either. It would be ridiculous if some demon hypnosis could stand against a soulmate bond. But Ajax is still hurting himself.

“Ajax!” he repeats in his ear, in their awkward facsimile of an embrace. “She’s controlling you, wake up!”

“Fascinating,” Barnabas says from where she stands, head cocked in thought. “He’s trying to follow my commands, and yet....”

Ajax struggles against his hold, thrashing movements that stand in contrast to the complete lack of emotion on his face. His conjured blades retract then suddenly shoot backward from his hands towards Zhongli and—impossible—the ice slices his clothing, nearly grazes his skin, and he releases Ajax out of pure shock.

The human whirls around, sword raised. Barnabas’ laughter fills the room.

It shouldn’t be possible. He almost—he almost wounded him. Zhongli looks down. His skin is intact, but the intent was there, and that shouldn’t be possible.

“I was experimenting with creating artificial soulmate bonds many years ago when I stumbled across this demon curse.” The other god’s smirk darkens. “It’s not the same, of course, but it’s proving quite handy. Thank you for the first test of its resilience.”

Zhongli bristles as Ajax slashes forward once again. What a perversion of the meaning of soulmates. 

“When the technology is perfected, I’ll have all my soldiers bound to me.” Delusion dances in Barnabas’ voice. “Absolute loyalty. Absolute love.”

Love? Obedience isn’t love. Control isn’t love. Harsh torrents rush under the smooth surface of her plan, instability revealed by spreading cracks.

Zhongli concentrates the little energy he has to run a thin gold shield over his skin, just in case she’s able to force Ajax to hurt him. But he also needs to make a move....

He counters Ajax, spins off the move to land next to Barnabas, and brings his sword not forward but back—

It glances off a flash of crystal shield, and Barnabas cackles. “Oh, dear Morax, seriously?”

Ajax throws himself between them as Zhongli tries to strike her again, and his block sends Zhongli staggering back. He stands in front of the CEO, weapons raised, breath slightly ragged, eyes as unseeing as ever. Zhongli can feel the sting of his delusion’s backfire like prickling ice in his veins. Ajax is injuring himself more and more as he continues to use magic.

“While you were sleeping, I was getting stronger,” the other god says with amusement. “You couldn’t hope to challenge me in your current form. Any one of my Harbingers could defeat you with ease, even little Ajax here.”

Zhongli wants to retort, but his mind is locked on grasping for a way out, any way out. He speaks instead to Ajax, who paces forward threateningly. “Ajax, you’re going to hurt yourself.” And possibly me if this goes on any longer. “This isn’t you. She’s in your mind, she’s cursed you.”

“I don’t think he can hear you,” Barnabas says. “He’s mine. Aren’t you, Tartaglia?”

“Yes, my lady,” replies a dead, toneless voice. 

“You love me, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“You would die for me?”

“Yes.”

“You would kill this man for me?”

“Yes, my lady.” Dark blue eyes don’t shift.

She cackles like it’s the funniest thing she’s ever heard. “Truly, I did not expect the curse to be this effective. He absolutely despises me, but look at him now!”

“Ajax,” Zhongli grits out. “This person threatened your family. She would have killed them. Your siblings.”

The human just paces forward again.

“Tonia, Anthon, and Teucer—she’d kill them, Ajax.”

The names don’t seem to register. Or maybe he really can’t hear him at all.

“Fascinating.” Barnabas laughs again, cold and tinkling. “Well, this has been entertaining, but I think we should wrap things up, hm? Surrender, Morax, or we will make you.”

Zhongli won’t give in without a fight, and she knows that. A smile slices across her face when he grips the jade sword and takes a defensive stance.

“Very well. Tartaglia, incapacitate him.”

Ajax whirls forward with renewed vigor. Zhongli parries every strike as they dance back across the room. By the rising energy flowing from Ajax’s body, it seems Barnabas is actively channeling it into him, making him stronger and stronger. Every blow comes closer and closer to landing. Zhongli isn’t sure if their bond can protect him much longer because...it’s actually her attacking him, isn’t it? She’s using Ajax’s body like a puppet. With enough willpower, she may be able to force Ajax to injure him.

On top of that, the surge of adeptal energy has growing consequences on Ajax’s body. He doesn’t seem to register the pain himself, but Zhongli can feel it—debilitating shards of cold that pierce his flesh on an elemental level.

They’ll both be incapacitated either way the longer this goes on. There’s no hope of drawing it out to find a way to escape. This seems to be Barnabas’ sick plan. She could take him with ease but seems to prefer watching her chess pieces dance.

It’s excruciating. Physically, as he feels Ajax’s pain ripping through them both. And emotionally, as a person he once called a friend willfully tears them apart for no better reason than that she has become drunk on greed and power.

Zhongli can’t let it end like this.

But as hard as he tries, it feels impossible to reawaken the rage that brought him here. As Ajax batters down his defenses and he’s incapable of striking back, the determination of his fury is drowned by an aching despair. He came here knowing he couldn’t make it out, but he was at least determined to try anything he could to save his soulmate. There has been no opportunity to strike back.

If they went down together, maybe it would feel right. But this is wrong, so wrong, to see Ajax’s blades turned on him, his eyes empty, the promising, beautiful thing they’ve built between them nowhere in sight.

Ajax. His soulmate, his inspiration, his blessing from the universe is now used as a weapon against him and Zhongli is weak. He’s so weak. He can’t even get his soulmate to hear him. A demon curse should not have the power to threaten a soulmate bond. And yet with every blow, Barnabas pushes Ajax closer and closer to injuring him.

Was it all for naught? Everything they’ve been through? Their growing relationship and the change that Zhongli has felt eroding his stubborn attachment to the past? Ajax was meant to save him from himself, wasn’t he? This is all so wrong and he can’t—

He can’t let it end like this.

“Ajax, Ajax, look at me!” he growls as they exchange blows. “It’s me.”

Still nothing. Blank eyes give no indication of recognition, even as he scrabbles against the curse blocking their connection, throws the full weight of his emotions against it. Sense me, feel me.

He has an idea, one last desperate idea to get through to him. Ajax will feel...he’ll feel his pain, won’t he?

Zhongli came here today to make up for his sins. To do just one thing right. To offer all of himself in the hope that by dying, he might be born anew.

Hope. Is that the feeling sparking in some dark, forgotten corner of his soul? That ember too long dead, buried by harsh wind and sand? Is it hope now that flashes through his veins like wildfire? That won’t let him give up until he has nothing left to give?

His sword clatters to the floor and his shield drops. He stops fighting. He lets go.

Zhongli stands still in surrender and watches his soulmate drive a blade of ice through his heart.

Ajax stumbles into him, not expecting it, and his eyes widen, his eyes widen and he gasps, a hint of emotion—

Zhongli wraps an arm around Ajax’s waist and pulls him close, even as it drives the blade deeper through his chest and gods, it hurts. He ignores the pain, his other hand lands on Ajax’s face, drags his eyes up to connect with his. There’s something there, a flicker of agony against emptiness, spiking and falling, he’s fighting, too, he’s struggling—

Hope.

“Ajax, look at me. Look at me.” Zhongli’s voice comes out in a ragged ramble, a choked whisper, a spill of blood over his lips. “Come back to me! I came here for you. I’m fighting for you, don’t you understand? I can’t lose you. You’re my strength, Ajax, remember? You’re mine, not hers. Fight the curse! You can fight it, just wake up, please—”

Ajax is trembling, hand tight around the handle of the sword now fully impaled through his chest. His face contacts and relaxes, eyes focus and unfocus, light and dark, awareness and emptiness—confused, scared, the beat and draw of the tide, his mouth opens—

“Zhongli?” says a weak voice. Pained blue eyes see him, yes, they see—!

For just an instant, Barnabas’ control wavers and Zhongli surges forward through their connection to embrace Ajax’s soul. He plunges into warm, dark waters, but the curse is all he can see, a blinding fog that bites back, seeks to invade his own mind.

He feels his soulmate struggling. Ajax can’t fight the curse for long. Zhongli can’t fight the curse at all. He broke through the barrier for this brief, weightless second—everything rising towards heaven, destined to come crashing down again—but he doesn’t have a plan, doesn’t know what can be achieved from this—

He has only the fresh hope that burns and rages through him, a hope like he hasn’t felt in years, the hope that together they can win—

Until....

He realizes....

He can feel Barnabas....

Her soul is also connected to Ajax in its dark, twisted facsimile of a soulmate bond, with the god of ice in the place of the demon. And Zhongli can feel...Barnabas is connected to Ajax, and Ajax is connected to him, and he is connected to her.

A seemingly limitless ocean of qi swims within her, a fuel source she has opened to Ajax. He can taste her energy, electric and exhilarating, a feast like he hasn’t seen in centuries.

Pure instinct takes Zhongli at the soft tendrils of qi reaching through Ajax to him. He has been starving for centuries and nothing could hold him back from this sustenance.

He devours it, pulls the energy through Ajax’s soul into his own. Even as the curse seeks to expel him, he feels the emptiness within him fill, a rush, a torrent of long-forgotten wholeness sweeping through his being—

Barnabas shuts off the connection almost instantly. She releases Ajax, who collapses, unconscious, into Zhongli’s hold. But he has absorbed, he has absorbed enough to feel lightheaded, tingling with power, a nostalgia so right he chokes on it.

Zhongli feels himself shaking from the overload. Just a taste and he’s drunk. A mere drop of what he had in the old days, but his starved body sings with joy.

The blade of ice vanished when Ajax passed out. It doesn’t take even a thought for the wound in his chest to heal as if nothing happened.

Barnabas snarls and steps forward as Zhongli kneels to lay Ajax gently on the ground. When Morax rises, it feels like a homecoming. Nothing can hold his body back from transforming now, not the military-grade wards on the room or his own thoughts of helplessness or the failures that bind him like chains because he...he at last....

He transforms. His body remembers its most intimidating shell. He grows and elongates, scales slide over his skin, claws and horns and fangs emerge, and he is a dragon once again. Towering to fill the space, curled protectively around his soulmate, tail smashing the furniture, the glow from his eyes bright enough to splash gold over everything. His growl is a deep, thundering thing that shakes the building—

“Did you forget I was the strongest of the gods? ”

Morax can taste Barnabas’ panic. The sharp scent fills the air as she hurls spears of ice at him. They shatter uselessly against his scales, and he roars again, the echo powerful enough to vibrate the walls and crack the skyscraper’s cement supports. Every alarm in the building is tripped, both physical and magical, at the earthquake-like shudder.

Barnabas laughs, high and clear. “Impressive, old friend. I underestimated your bond. But you still sense the difference between us, yes?”

His chest rumbles in displeasure. It’s true. He absorbed a mere drop of her energy; the ocean inside her is enough to level cities if she drew on her full power.

“It would be wise to surrender.” The mocking sneer returns to her face. “We wouldn’t want our little human to get caught in a duel between gods.”

Morax growls, loud enough to shake the building again, and wraps Ajax in a protective grip. He’s so large that his soulmate fits comfortably in his claws. “I will die before I bow to you.”

Barnabas’ eyes darken at his refusal. He realizes, and surely she knows, that her threats are useless unless she draws on more power. Any attempt to subdue him may very well destroy this building. Is she willing to sacrifice the headquarters of her empire and all the people in it?

Before she has time to decide, he acts. The marble and cement of the top floor respond to his call, resonate and start to crack. He grips Ajax and launches himself out of the side of the building as the walls collapse. The wards that suppress magic are no longer enough to keep him caged.

There was no one on that floor except the three of them. He could bring the whole building down, but if there is one thing that separates him from Barnabas, it is that he’s not willing to risk killing innocent humans. The energy it would take would also drain him so that he couldn’t fly....

And fly he does. Free at last, the dragon takes to the sky.

From the collapsed room, Barnabas screams his name. The echo of “Morax! ” bounces off the surrounding skyscrapers and into the dark night. If anyone nearby hadn’t noticed yet, the earth-and-sky-shaking energy signatures of two godly spirit beings rends the air. She risks the discovery of the CEO’s identity in the burst of adeptal energy that washes out over the city to summon a storm.

But Morax flies fast and true. Through daggers of ice, howling winds, and pulses of lightning, he flies. The blizzard cannot stop him because he is free, free, free....

***

Zhongli collapses to the ground, just barely able to turn and shelter Ajax from the fall. They go rolling with a churn of dirt and grass as his body shrinks and shrinks and they come to a grinding stop on a stony shore.

Zhongli’s now-human head shoots up. They’ve landed just beside a small, trickling stream. They outran the storm hundreds of miles ago, and now the clear night sky shines with a thousand twinkling stars. He takes in the view as his vision adjusts. These rugged, snow-capped mountains, the fields of wildflowers and heather…Fontaine. They made it past the border.

Zhongli’s body is in agonizing pain. That tiny bit of pure adeptal energy was enough to sustain his draconic form for a few hours, but now he’s run through his fuel and is burning fumes. At least they made it to relative safety.

He has no attention to pay to himself, however, as he sits up on the stony, grassy bank and cradles Ajax.

“You’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay.” He repeats it like a mantra and grips Ajax tight, arms shaking as he checks over his body. “You’re okay.”

Zhongli’s body shielded him from the crash. Other than some dirt, he looks unharmed, but he’s still unconscious. The aftershocks of using magic scatter through them both. Without his medication, who knows how long it will take for him to recover. The energy Barnabas was channeling through him truly could have killed him if she had— 

Barnabas. Against an exhausted mind that is two seconds away from collapse, Zhongli remembers.

He pulls out Rayyan’s device and turns it on. With a flicker, it starts up. It’s still broken, and he’ll have to examine it later to make sure that it’s functioning and they’re not being tracked. But for now, he feels the curse ease into dormancy. As soon as they fled Barnabas’ proximity, the potency of the curse vanished, and with the device, it’s so faint he can ignore it.

There’s no doubt the enemy is already headed this way. He didn’t think to turn the device on while they were flying, so they should know where they are. Barnabas or one of her vassals will be on the hunt. Zhongli can only hope that she maintains secrecy and assigns someone else to carry out her plans. No one in the world knows she’s alive and running Fatui Corp—not even most of her Harbingers, it seems. If she left Snezhnaya to hunt them personally, it would be a great risk to her identity.

Even with his divine speed and a six-hour head start, they’ve only bought a little time. But getting back to Liyue is the last thing on his mind at the moment. Ajax is here. Ajax is in his arms. Ajax is safe. His energy is clear now with the curse subdued, and Zhongli drowns in the familiar meld of their souls.

His mind is still stuck half-dragon. He shakes his soulmate and nuzzles his face to his chest where their mark is. His voice comes out low and in the old dialect, a string of endearments and pleas whose translation is lost to all but him. “Ajax, darling, awaken. My soulmate, treasure, awaken, please.”

Zhongli can barely sit upright, one wave of dizziness away from passing out himself. After a minute of pressing their foreheads together and running a hand over his cheek, blue eyes open. Slow and cloudy.

“...Zhongli? ” Ajax’s voice is a faint croak. 

Zhongli brushes the hair out of his face and scans his hazy eyes. He forces his tongue back to the common language. “Yes, Ajax, it’s me. You’re free, we’re safe.”

“You...you came? ” He looks dazed, confused, as if he doesn’t understand, and his voice is barely audible.

“Of course I did,” Zhongli says, surprised to find his eyes slightly wet.

Those eyes try to focus. Ajax looks at him, gaze unsteady, and his hand reaches up to mirror Zhongli’s on his face. “Zhongli, I....”

Then, with sudden strength, the hand curls around the back of Zhongli’s neck and drags him down. The mere inches between their faces close too fast. Zhongli doesn’t have time to catch up with the gesture before Ajax is pulling his lips down to his.

Ajax is kissing him.

His first reaction is to melt into rough, cracked lips, to deepen it and impart all his relief and desperation. Because gods, it feels so right, like the shocking wholeness of his transformation, his homecoming, his body miles ahead of his mind in knowing what he needs and— And his second is the realization that Ajax is delirious, half-conscious. It’s a natural impulse considering the situation, the tension, the emotions running high, but neither of them is in the right mind.

So he reciprocates for a single, chaste second before pulling back.

“Zhongli. Zhongli, hahah....” Ajax’s eyes slide shut, but Zhongli doesn’t miss the tear that is quickly swallowed. “Sorry.”

Zhongli takes his hand. “For what?”

“I…hurt...hurt you.” He struggles to put a sentence together. “I’m so sorry, I never—never meant.... You came—came because it hurt? ”

“What?” Zhongli’s head spins viciously. The world is a dizzy mess, high off of the pain and running for their lives and Ajax kissing him but— “No, I came to save you.”

“Because…of the bond? ” Ajax’s voice is a faint murmur as he grows limp in Zhongli’s grip. “Did it hurt...that bad? ”

“No, Ajax—what? I came to save you because I care about you.”

Ajax shakes his head weakly. His skin is burning up, his breath uneven. “Don’t say that.”

“Ajax,” Zhongli says, bewildered, lightheaded, overwhelmed, “I don’t know what you’re thinking, but I care about you very much.”

“Hahahh.” Ajax whispers a choked laugh, and the tear finally escapes his closed eye. “You...couldn’t....”

“I do—”

“You couldn’t....”

“I do,” Zhongli insists. He pulls him closer to his chest, arms shaking. Why is he saying this? “I do care, I came to save you, Ajax, I—”

“Couldn’t....” Ajax’s head lolls to the side, and Zhongli lifts it back. He’s losing consciousness when he says, “You couldn’t care...the way...I care. It’s just the bond. But I— ” Another tear carves its way gently down his face. “I’m falling in love with you. So please don’t—don’t....”

Zhongli’s heart freezes as Ajax falls fully limp, the tear glistening on his cheek.

“Ajax?” He checks and he’s still breathing, his heart is still beating. Just asleep again.

Zhongli is in utter shock. His mind is too full to process almost anything that’s happened today—his willingness to throw everything away, the betrayal of one of his oldest friends, the brief, intoxicating return of his powers—and now the person at the center of it all has kissed him and then burned him with these words....

He supposes he now has an answer to that question he was too afraid to ask. What are Ajax’s feelings?

Ajax loves him.

But how...how did Ajax get the impression that he couldn’t feel the same way? How could Zhongli have failed him so badly to make him think such a thing? Were the chopsticks and the deep conversations and the constant touches not enough? Was Zhongli opening up about his guilt not enough? Was he so cruel at first that even after months, he can’t change that first impression?

Ajax’s words were clearly born from something subconscious in his fevered, hypnogogic state, perhaps a truth he never meant to confess. But a truth nevertheless.

Zhongli stares down at the human in his arms. This impossible, incredible human. The one he raced across the whole continent, abandoned his sister, was willing to risk being imprisoned to save.

It is Ajax who has changed him enough to overcome his prejudices, to make him consider a future free of the past, to accept the world as it is—and how dare he not...not see.... How dare he not see what he means to me.

Zhongli is frustrated with them both. At Ajax, bold enough to kiss him and then take a stab at his heart. At himself, so held down by the past that he can’t help but sabotage their future.

He fought today. He won today. Ajax woke his fighting spirit once more. After loss upon loss and three-hundred years, he found some tiny piece of who he used to be still holding on.

The future is terrifying, but at this pivotal point, can he really continue to run and hide while people suffer? Is he not ready to give in to the call of rebellion? Like Hu Tao has been screaming at him for years, like all the people who say they’ve awaited his return, like Venti’s bittersweet motivation—is Zhongli ready to be Morax again? Is he ready to forgive himself?

He is at least ready to accept that Ajax’s mere existence threw him off the ledge he’d been teetering on for so long. Not to mention all the things he’s said and done to give Zhongli hope. He was able to ignite a passion that had been so long dead Zhongli thought it would never spark again.

Zhongli gave everything he had to save him, not because of their shared pain but because he couldn’t let his hope die. He couldn’t let that resilient winter flower fight through battering snows alone.

Ajax is his hope. The only shining star in a sky of darkest despair. The guiding light that led him out of that moment in the office when everything seemed lost. Zhongli had to surrender to find his strength and only after throwing everything away to chase his soulmate into hell did he find himself.

The truth is inescapable: Ajax is his chance to be whole again.

There is nothing in him now that can deny how strongly his soul yearns for a future where he can forgive himself and fully embrace his soulmate. The bitter, aching scars on his heart tell him to run away before he falls. But he wants it, he wants it so badly he stormed into the enemy’s headquarters with no plan and no hope of survival. 

Zhongli wants Ajax to be his and he wants to be Ajax’s. As much as everything in him screams to resist, he’s already given in. He is done fighting the inevitable.

The greatest enemy is himself, and he is now ready to make war.

All the things inside him, those things carved by grief and guilt that tell him he doesn’t deserve to be happy, he doesn’t deserve Ajax, that he isn’t allowed to love because he failed his past partners—he will fight them all.

What am I now that I have let them all die? What am I after my strength shatters?

I am Ajax’s soulmate.

Zhongli sighs heavily and presses a long kiss to Ajax’s forehead. When he wakes, Zhongli will make sure he understands what he means to him. No more room for misinterpretation.

He has no idea how long it will take to grapple with his past and truly forgive himself, but the first step is to surrender. To share the truth of everything with Ajax. And then they can take up arms together.

For now, today, he fought and won. They’re free and, for the moment, safe.

“I’ll prove it to you,” he murmurs against Ajax’s hair with a small smile. “If you’ll have me, if you’ll give me a little time, I’m ready to fight.”

Zhongli’s eyes want to close. He wants to lay down just like this in the grass, body and spirit drained. But the enemy is on their way....

He will deal with this crushing avalanche of emotions later. They have to get moving. He drags himself to his feet with a muffled grunt of pain and almost collapses again. On second thought...they won’t get anywhere without rest.

Far across the fields of heather and wildflowers rises a single column of smoke against the starry sky. Zhongli lifts Ajax into his arms with the last of his strength and sets out stumbling towards it.

Chapter Text

Ajax wakes to birdsong.

The return of his consciousness is a slow, wavering thing. With it come his senses. Light incandescent against his eyelids. The inquisitive chirping of birds. Clean air laden with flowerscent.

Pain. The familiar dull ache of magic. Ravenous like it hasn’t been in years. So sharp he wonders how he slept.

Comfort. A soft bed. Pillow under his head, blanket over his body. And something warm pressed against his back, curled around him. Something breathing.

Ajax comes fully to with a gasp. He jerks upward as he often does emerging from nightmares, but immovable arms keep him trapped in place.

Zhongli. As sleep gives way to clarity, he allows himself to relax. The adeptus’ body is entwined with his, arms around his middle, legs entangled, breath steady against his neck.

It appears Zhongli is dead asleep. Ajax shifts around in his hold to get a better view of the room and holds back a wince as magic pains scatter through him.

Where the—? It’s a small bedroom with walls of honey-colored wooden logs. Outside the window stretches a field of wildflowers and a hint of towering, austere mountains against an open sky. The warm haze of late summer irradiates the view.

The room, noticeably, has two beds. As his mind rises into wakefulness, Ajax feels a pleasant buzz that Zhongli evidently chose not to let go of him all night. Or...morning? How long has it been?

Ajax remembers very little after losing consciousness in the caves of Watatsumi. There are flickers of things, but his last clear memory is Scaramouche knocking him out.

He settles back against Zhongli and tries to focus. For a timeless while, there was a drowning, suffocating whiteness and vague pain. The Tsaritsa was there, he knows; her presence was smothering him. Something was different about her. When he grasps for it within his shaky memory, he finds nothing. What...what is it? The curse was fully activated, potent....

And then Zhongli was there. Yes, he remembers a single moment of clarity, when the suffocation lifted and Zhongli’s energy reconnected to his, invigorating him. And then there...there was a dragon.

He blinks. There was a dragon. Zhongli was a dragon. Zhongli...came to save him and they...he can’t remember...but he—he stabbed Zhongli. He stabbed Zhongli and then he was a dragon and they were flying and then—

He kissed Zhongli. He stabbed him and he kissed him. Those two things stand out clearer than the rest. Oh gods—

Ajax’s chest turns to ice. He wrenches himself around in Zhongli’s iron grip so they’re facing each other.

“Zhongli,” he whispers in horror. His soulmate is fully clothed besides his shoes as if he collapsed into bed the second he could. His bare hands are glowing ocher and ebony. And indeed, there’s a hole in his shirt with dried blood staining the fabric around.

Ajax tries not to panic as he checks that he’s breathing. He is, he’s fine, his face tranquil and gently asleep, but a dark, scarlet wave rears its head at the sight of the rip in his shirt.

Ajax touches it. It’s a clean slice, like from a sword, at an angle that would have plunged it right through ribs, but the skin underneath is unbroken. He stabbed him through the heart and he healed like nothing happened?

A tumbling laugh of relief and dizziness bursts from Ajax’s mouth. Why wouldn’t his god of a soulmate heal from a sword to the heart? He transformed into a dragon and broke out and flew them to wherever they are, after all.

Ajax sighs as the sizzling protectiveness fades. No wonder Zhongli is always on edge; Ajax has a penchant for getting injured. In contrast, the adeptus rarely gets hurt and heals in minutes. With this taste of how devastating the protectiveness of their bond can be, Ajax can only imagine what Zhongli must have felt when Scaramouche took him.

Ajax wishes he could remember, but his mind is fuzzy and it aches to remember. Scattered fragments of a confrontation float up through the disorder. The Tsaritsa was there. Zhongli was there. A moment of lucidity, a voice. Come back to me!

He must have been in a trance. The Tsaritsa’s control through the curse. It was a new experience because she has not once in ten years taken advantage of the claim she laid on him. Ajax knows he stabbed Zhongli; the physical evidence is here. How terrifying is the curse if it was able to overcome their soulmate bond to this degree?

An itch sets in as he remembers the numb sensation of drowning in a white fog. There was something deeper lying in that mist. He could feel the structure of the magic more clearly than ever before. Maybe somewhere in his memory of being in her presence hides the answer as to the right spell to use to free him.

Ajax runs his fingers over Zhongli’s unbroken skin again. Just to check, to be sure. He didn’t hurt him. He couldn’t hurt him.

Zhongli isn’t hurt, right? He’s still passed out, and Ajax needs to know—

“Zhongli.” Ajax brushes the hair off his closed eyes. “Zhongli, wake up.”

He looks so peaceful asleep. His fine, smooth features soft and unmarred by stress. His energy a soothing, warm ebb and flow that Ajax basks in.

Ajax should let him rest but he can’t stand not remembering any longer. He shakes him a little. “Zhongli, wake up. Are you okay?”

Golden eyes open languidly. Hazy and blinking. A long exhale accompanies an arm around his waist tightening.

“Zhongli,” Ajax sighs in relief. “Are you okay?”

Those eyes narrow in a frown as they focus on his face. A sleepy, muddled voice: “I should be asking you that.”

“I’m fine,” Ajax says, searching his gaze. “But you....” His hand finds the rip in his shirt again.

Zhongli takes another deep breath and blinks away the last caresses of sleep. Then he looks down with a faint smile. “That was nothing.”

“Nothing? ”

“You are right to worry.” He extracts one arm latched around Ajax’s waist to take the hand on his chest. “It would have hurt me in ordinary circumstances, but I was able to absorb enough energy to heal instantly.”

“I’m sorry,” Ajax whispers as a shiver of guilt sweeps over him. “I’m so sorry, you got hurt because of me—”

“It’s okay,” Zhongli says soothingly and entwines their fingers. “Nothing is your fault.”

“I don’t—” Ajax shakes his head. “Zhongli, I don’t remember anything. I know she had me in a trance and I stabbed you but I can’t remember.”

Zhongli’s smile fades. “You don’t remember anything?”

“Almost nothing. What—what happened? Did you get my family? How long has it been? Where are we? Where’s Hu Tao and—?” He breaks off as an avalanche of questions comes crashing over him.

“Your family’s safe.” Zhongli grips his hand as if to stave off the panic. “They’re in a safehouse in Liyue. We’re in Fontaine right now, I’m not exactly sure where.”

“Fontaine?” Ajax whispers.

Zhongli explains that they’re at an inn somewhere in the countryside. The innkeeper saw them stumbling down the road, wounded and exhausted, and offered them a room. “There should be a way to get to a nearby city and take the train back to Liyue.”

“But how did we get to Fontaine?”

“We broke out of Fatui Headquarters and I flew us as far as I could before my strength gave out. We crashed here. With my flying speed, we should have a decent head start, although now that we’ve stayed the night, I’m sure the enemy isn’t far behind.”

Too much. It’s barely any information but it’s too much. Ajax’s head aches along with the magic pains still tingling through him.

“Rayyan’s device is broken,” Zhongli continues. “They may know our location, so we should get moving as soon as we can. We brought the machine with us from Inazuma, Beidou has it in Liyue, so we should get to it as soon as possible and finish freeing you.”

“You—hang on,” Ajax says, dizzy. “How did you get to Snezhnaya?”

Zhongli pauses, his eyes bright and serious. Hesitant and searching. “Ajax....”

They lie there together, the strong sunlight of morning washed over them, warm in the shared bed, heads on the same pillow, bodies still entwined, as Zhongli tells him everything. The terror he felt upon realizing that Ajax had been taken. How Hu Tao tried to talk him down. How he stormed north in a rage.

You came for me? Ajax wants to ask. It’s a stupid question, birthed from the deep insecurity still simmering inside him. Of course Zhongli came. Rationally, Ajax would never doubt that.

Zhongli threw himself into hell to save him, like the butterfly lover in the story. Ajax never wants to doubt his intentions again. And thankfully, there is very little room for misinterpretation in his explanation, especially as he says:

“Ajax, I need you to know I didn’t come for you just because of the bond.” Zhongli squeezes his hand in almost desperate tightness.

“I–I didn’t think—”

“No, listen.” His gilded, fervent gaze is inescapable, a mere foot away. “I couldn’t lose you. That’s why I acted so foolishly. And I—” He breaks off with a sigh. “I’ll get to that later. Let me finish telling you what happened.”

Ajax hardly has time to wonder what Zhongli wants to tell him because next he describes how he entered Fatui Headquarters and his confrontation with the Tsaritsa. And Ajax has a much larger truth to grapple with.

“The CEO...she’s Barnabas. She’s the former Cryo Archon.”

Yes, the information is absolutely too much.

“She cursed you trying to create an artificial replication of a soulmate bond.” Zhongli goes on to explain in a low, dark voice all of the CEO’s plans, how she manipulated them, how she planned to use Ajax as bait. “She thought she could use you to get to me, she planned this all along.”

It’s.... This is—

Ajax has not cried in ten years. Something in him broke when Skirk died and he was inducted into the Fatui. He hasn’t cried through the pain of being experimented on or becoming a murderer or lying to his family or anything he’s been through.

And even now, upon discovering that his entire life was a farce, he does not cry.

“I’m so sorry.” Zhongli squeezes his hand again. “What she’s done to you all this time is...it’s horrific.”

Ajax struggles to pay attention as Zhongli goes on. “You fought the curse for a moment and I drew her energy through you, so I could transform and fly us away. She tried to stop us and—”

Zhongli continues speaking, but Ajax isn’t listening anymore. He closes his eyes, numb, as one thought dominates his mind:

It’s all been for nothing. My entire life.

He was just a pawn. He always knew he was, but somehow the truth behind why she chose him feels so...so....

Ajax thought—he thought his bond with Zhongli was a sign of hope, his chance at freedom from the Fatui, but ironically, he could have...he could have had a normal life if he weren’t Zhongli’s soulmate.

Their bond was the reason his life fell apart. The reason the Tsaritsa took him. Sure, Pulcinella didn’t know when he first offered help, but maybe they would have let him go after. Or maybe he could’ve found a way out long ago. Because the CEO would never have bound him to her with magic if she weren’t trying to get power over Zhongli....

If it weren’t for the bond, Ajax might’ve had a normal life, and Zhongli would’ve been safe, living with Hu Tao and working at Wangsheng. Zhongli wouldn’t have suffered like this either.

Before this moment, Ajax thought he knew where it was all leading. He thought fate had a plan. He trusted fate.

But it was just the CEO’s plan.

And he was nothing but bait for a god.

“My whole life was a lie,” Ajax whispers after he hears Zhongli trail off. “Everything....” Everything I went through.

He wishes he could cry. Maybe it could relieve the tightness expanding in his chest, choking him.

“Ajax, I’m so sorry,” Zhongli repeats. “It’s because of me—”

“No.” He opens his eyes, voice quiet. “I don’t—I don’t blame our bond.” I don’t regret it. “She took advantage of our weaknesses. I just....”

Does Ajax regret it? He’s thought it before—he would have fallen in love if they’d met under different circumstances. But how can he separate these feelings of love from the reality that their bond is the reason he was forced into a life of killing?

No, he doesn’t regret it, but he feels...he feels so utterly helpless. Even their bond—which he thought was the best thing that’s ever happened to him—turned out to be a tool for someone else’s greed, someone else’s will.

When he thinks about it, his entire life has been defined by helplessness.

Helpless to the poverty of his childhood. Helpless to the contract that made him a slave soldier. Helpless to this soulmate bond.

Even that moment in the caves, when he was ready to control his own destiny, when he was ready to fight for what he wanted, he got kidnapped before he could tell Zhongli his feelings.

“Ajax?” Zhongli says after he’s been quiet for a while. “What are you thinking?”

“I...feel so useless,” he says. Because it’s true.

“Why?”

He laughs, a soft, bitter sound. “I got kidnapped and you had to save me. I couldn’t do anything for my family, everyone else got them out. I couldn’t convince Scaramouche to let me go. The CEO used me for all these years, my entire life was a lie. What have I done to help us get free? And I can’t—I can’t even—” Tell you I love you.

He tries to look away, but there’s nowhere to run, tangled up in their embrace.

“Ajax.” One low, gentle word, a vibration that pierces the choked air. “You made all of this possible.”

He tries to scoff, but Zhongli continues.

“If it had been up to me, we both would’ve died that first night. You tried to find a solution, you changed my mind.” His voice is genuine, hard, yet still tender, the stinging rush of salt water through a wound. “I wouldn’t have been able to get us out yesterday if you hadn’t been fighting with me. Your will is what’s kept your family safe all these years. You could have given in and become what she was trying to turn you into—any weaker person would have—but you gave your life meaning by resisting her.”

Ajax forces a deep breath through pinched lungs. “I feel like a pawn in a game between gods.”

“Of course you do.” Zhongli sighs and his release of breath is heavy like a concession, a surrender, a foundation collapsing under stress, giving in to its cracks. “I feel the same way, you know. I’ve been completely useless since I woke up seven years ago. Without you, I would never have found my strength.”

Ajax frowns at him, at the sincerity brimming in those intense eyes. “I always believed that you—”

“Exactly,” Zhongli interrupts. “You chose to believe in me. You chose to, even when I gave you no reason to.”

“Zhongli, I could see it,” Ajax insists. “You weren’t useless. You always had your strength.”

“Then you could see something I couldn’t.” The corner of his mouth twitches up. “Maybe I just needed a push, but you were that push, Ajax. You gave me something to fight for—”

“By getting kidnapped—”

“No.” Zhongli snorts at the half-joke in his words. “By inspiring me. And fighting with me yesterday. I asked you to come back to me, and you did. I couldn’t have done anything alone.”

Is that how it went? Ajax still wishes he could cry, but Zhongli’s words have cut through the constriction in his chest, alongside the caress of calming energy that flows from his soul.

He still feels like a victim, but in the end, as helpless as the CEO’s plan makes him feel, he really couldn’t regret their bond. Maybe those ten years were something that had to happen to lead here, or they just did happen and there’s no point to any of it.

Either way, what matters is that Ajax doesn’t mind where he’s ended up.

He can’t trust fate, but he knows that this feels right, being here in Zhongli’s arms. No matter the suffering they’ve gone through to get here, no matter what else happens, he’s not alone.

“If I feel useless and you feel useless,” he laughs as his heart lightens, “does that double the uselessness?”

“I think it evens out.” Zhongli smiles. “We are meant to balance each other, are we not?”

Ajax finds, as he always seems able to these days, fresh determination permeating the aftermath of despair’s downfall. “I don’t want to be a victim anymore,” he says. “I want—I want to fight back. I want to make my own choices.”

Zhongli searches his eyes for a moment, voice quiet. “I think I do as well.”

“Really?”

“I’m not sure how much longer I can run and hide.” The ever-familiar guilt curls soft through Zhongli’s soul, runs over their connection, but it is smothered by equal resolve in his gaze. “I may be ready.”

Ajax feels himself smiling too, expression brightening. Zhongli pauses, blinks at him as if mesmerized, then brings a hand to his face and brushes a thumb over his cheekbone.

“You...you make no sense to me,” his soulmate murmurs, golden eyes burning into blue as if chasing the light there. “How your eyes....”

His eyes?

“I am...terrified, Ajax.” Zhongli smiles weakly. “I don’t know how to fight again, but...you’re my strength. And I want to fight for you.”

Despite everything, despite being fresh off of imprisonment and heartbreaking revelations, that sweet, intoxicating hope rises again to consume Ajax’s chest.

Isn’t this what Ajax wanted—a chance to be Zhongli’s strength as much as he is his? He wishes he could remember more than the phantom of a blade through their chests, that fuzzy moment of pain. He wishes he could remember lending Zhongli his strength.

Zhongli saved him, but Ajax fought for him, too.

They revolve, ever balancing each other, in a trajectory set long ago.

Helpless. No control. The pull of intolerable, incalculable gravity in their celestial dance. Closer and closer, destined to collide.

On the surface, there’s no choice in this either, but somehow Ajax can accept that. Resistance is pointless and surrender, while terrifying, seems to offer salvation.

When everything is beyond your control, choice lies in the acceptance itself. 

It feels so right, lying here together. Like a halcyon dream, floating, dizzy, Ajax’s only anchor in this world is Zhongli. The arm that fits under him, unmoved as they speak. The other hand now resting on his jaw, a thumb running over his cheek. Those eyes that have such capacity for hardness and softness now molten with both determination and...dare he call it...love?

The rightness scares him. Why is he looking at me like that?

There is no denying that Zhongli wants to touch him as much as he does Zhongli. That he wants to get as close as possible, as if to test whether their bodies can meld together as their souls do. And to say you inspire me is one thing. But you’re my strength is tantamount to....

Ajax is sick of doubting. He’s sick of waiting. The thinnest, weakest barrier still fights for life between them, and if there were ever a time to break it....

Into the warm silence, Ajax murmurs, “I’m sorry for kissing you.”

 Zhongli’s hand freezes on his face. “You remember that?”

“A bit.” Ajax stares at the pillow, but they’re so close that heat waves seem to shimmer in the space between them, a space that sizzles with awareness. “Not really. I just know I did. Sorry.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for.” Zhongli’s hand doesn’t retreat. “I just wish you had been in a proper state of mind.”

Oh.

“Yeah,” Ajax chuckles, the restless fluttering in his stomach burgeoning out through his nerves by the second. “Because then I wouldn’t have. I guess I got caught up in the—”

“No,” Zhongli interrupts softly. “Because...I would have been able to kiss you back.”

“What?” Ajax’s gaze is drawn up again.

“I couldn’t kiss you when you were half unconscious,” Zhongli says as if it’s obvious. And well, that is, but more importantly—

“You wanted to kiss me?”

“Yes” comes a single, world-shaking word.

Forget pleasant warmth. Ajax’s entire body is on fire. He wants to scramble out of bed and run away and also press close enough that they become one. And forget the pain lingering in his muscles. He can’t feel anything but a lightheaded, swooping dizziness.

Ajax’s one-sided pining had started to feel like a foundation of reality, and now he stumbles as it shatters. But he relishes the fall at the sight of those honey eyes replete with returned longing.

“Did you?” asks the man who is still unfazed.

“D-did I what?”

“Did you actually want to kiss me? You weren’t ‘caught up in the moment’ or—”

“No!” Ajax says. “I—yes, I meant it.”

Zhongli smiles in a quiet, devastating way and his eyes flick to his lips.

Now is the time. Now is absolutely the time. Ajax can’t breathe but somehow graceless words tumble from him anyway: “Do you want to kiss me now?”

A small puff of air leaves Zhongli’s nose, followed by low, sweet, sugar words. “Yes, I do.”

And there it is after all this time—what he wants, readily offered. Before he loses the nerve to take it, Ajax leans forward and Zhongli meets him halfway.

It is soft, so soothingly soft, the way their lips join, no hesitation in how they find each other. The arm around his waist tightens, bringing them closer. Ajax welcomes this with equal enthusiasm, and what starts as a press deepens into a slow pace.

Ajax expected kissing Zhongli to feel thrilling, scary, but in reality it feels nothing but natural. Like coming home after a long day—comfortable, familiar, as if they’ve done this a thousand times. Like two souls set adrift across time and space at last coming together in physical proof that their fates have always been intertwined.

Nothing they could do physically could be more intimate than how they’ve meditated with their souls open to each other. Yet it’s vulnerable in a different way. A vulnerability that feels strangely secure despite its novelty.

Ajax has kissed a few people in the past couple years, but he never particularly enjoyed it. It was an awkward necessity, something passionless that he put up with. He never imagined that kissing could feel so comforting, so right.

So right. Zhongli’s hand is on his jaw, and his is curled in Zhongli’s hair. They have been touching a lot lately; maybe this was always going to be the natural progression, but Ajax is sent tumbling anyway. Everything feels so right.

After all his insecurity, all his fears of no reciprocation, the slow and unsteady thing they’ve built between them is close to completion. A long, winding road with endless ups and downs but a single path nonetheless. They were always going to end up here. And now that they’ve arrived, Ajax feels any remaining hesitation crumble.

Zhongli’s energy is bright and blinding, washing over him. They feel each other’s strong emotions, and happy ones have been so rare, but now, as they share this moment, a quiet peace is born between them. They are light and dark, a dragon and phoenix, hurtling and bending through space to warp together, to find each other in a slow dance. Ajax could never doubt again that Zhongli wants this as much as he does, with the way his soul shines.

After a minute, Zhongli murmurs “Ajax” into his mouth and pulls back. Ajax opens his eyes to find his soulmate’s radiant through the space between them, rivers of molten gold. They share a breathless smile.

“This is...long overdue.” Zhongli’s voice is somehow even lower than usual, a vibration Ajax can feel in his own chest. “I’m so sorry.”

Before Ajax can wonder what he’s talking about, Zhongli takes the hole in his shirt and rips the fabric further.

“W-wh—”

The shirt rips up to his collarbone, and sitting against his skin, twinkling faintly, is a blue constellation. Oh.

“I should have showed you a long time ago,” Zhongli says.

Ajax swallows, still breathless and dizzy. Their soulmate mark.... He’s always wondered. Zhongli’s is the twin to his, Monoceros Caeli, the constellation he was born under.

At his silence, Zhongli takes his hand and brings it to the mark. He winces slightly as Ajax traces the six points. The roar of their energies, now in this moment almost indistinguishable from each other, accompanies the brush of his fingers.

“I was...afraid,” Zhongli murmurs. “It’s evidence of how deeply we’re connected. For a long time, I...I was in a dark place. I haven’t been fair to you on a number of counts.”

“I told you I understand.” Ajax manages to focus and attempts a comforting smile. “You’ve been through so much, and I was your enemy.”

“Still, I— Well, I suppose that is the point. You have helped me, with your empathy, with your strength.”

“I really—”

“Ajax, please. Listen.” Zhongli takes his hand again and clasps it to his chest. “I cannot deny that I was angry about our bond at first. I thought—” He looks down and his jaw clenches. “I thought it was a curse from the universe to punish me for my sins. But as we have spent time together, I came to the realization that the very opposite is true. You are a blessing.”

If Ajax weren’t already high off all the emotions, he’s sure he’d go tumbling again. After everything, Zhongli really does—

“I’m afraid words are insufficient, but I want you to know. You have inspired me, shown me that the world is not so black and white, that hope can take root anywhere. Even in this tired, old soul.” Zhongli looks back up, a bittersweet smile on his lips. “I left Hu Tao and went to save you with no plan. Not because of the pain but because I couldn’t lose you. I swear it’s not the bond making me say these things. This is how I feel.”

How does he know Ajax’s doubts about his feelings? Ajax is sure he’s never mentioned it; did he say something yesterday while he was half conscious?

“For seven years, I was living a half-life. I had no hope for the future, I just wanted to survive.” Zhongli’s smile brightens like dawn, like a new day rising. “I think what was missing was you. It’s because of you I could fight again yesterday.”

Ajax can’t help matching his expression, reflecting his light. Does this mean—?

“Because of you, I want to think about the future again. So I am grateful for this.” His soulmate squeezes his hand tight. “And I don’t want you to doubt anymore.”

“I-I don’t,” Ajax manages. He doesn’t. He couldn’t, with all the genuine emotion pouring from Zhongli’s soul into his.

He knew that Zhongli was becoming more and more accepting of him. He knew they were growing inevitably closer, but gods does it feel good to finally hear that Zhongli is just as willing to move forward as he is.

“So,” Ajax begins quietly. “Then what...what is this?” He grips his hand back.

That damnable smile falters. “It’s—I don’t know. What would you like it to be?” 

What would Ajax like? He doesn’t know what he wants either, really, and for now this budding thing between them is plenty. Talking and kissing like this is perfect. He can’t deny that there’s still a lot he doesn’t know about Zhongli. How couldn’t there be, with so many thousands of years of life? But their destinies share a terminus; they’ll get there in the end, there’s no need to rush.

Ajax takes a deep breath, still dizzy. “I like...what’s happening right now. Do you?”

“Yes, but, well...I’m not sure it’s fair to ask. I’m still...I have....” Zhongli shakes his head. “There are many things I have yet to tell you, but I suppose what matters is that...I want to be with you.”

Oh, what those words do. Long anticipated but never certain. Flames that have been building for weeks, months, combusting. Fervent yet achingly peaceful. But—

“Are you really okay with that?” They’ve been friends with a feeling of more for a while and it feels so absolutely right to Ajax, but: “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Zhongli’s smile creeps back over his face, the return of sunrise. “It feels very natural. Like—” A small laugh. “Like coming home to a place I’ve always known but somehow forgot.”

Ajax’s heart seizes, with happiness or what, he can’t tell. “That’s how I feel, too.”

“I thought it would be harder, but right now, I can’t remember what the fear feels like.” The curve of his mouth grows, bittersweet like change. “I don’t want to fight our bond anymore. I have resisted it and hurt you, and I apologize for how long it took me—”

“It’s okay,” Ajax repeats with the dawn of his own nascent smile. It’s incredible that he even got to this point, considering everything.

Zhongli nods, eyes gleaming. “I think if it feels natural, we should continue, whatever it is. Whatever you would like to call it, whatever our relationship progresses to become. I can’t lie, there is much holding me back, but if I could ask for your patience....”

“I understand.” Ajax doesn’t need commitment, doesn’t need him to magically recover from the past. A promise is plenty. “This is perfect. Thank you for—” For everything you’ve said. For forgiving and accepting me. For coming to save me.

Zhongli seems to recognize the words blooming behind the halt of his tongue. He leans in again, breath warm and smile burning. “I am honored to be bound to you. Please know that.”

That is noticeably not an I love you, but Ajax hasn’t said it either. Maybe it will come with time.

There are so many things to say, but they can wait. For now, without words, he snuggles close and their lips find each other again.

***

Ajax can’t believe this is happening, and he wants to drown in the moment forever, but after a long minute, Zhongli pulls back and sighs. “We need to get moving before they catch up.”

Ajax chases him, and Zhongli obliges for a few seconds. He can feel him smiling against his mouth and why is Zhongli so perfect? Even his soft lips and the firm way he kisses is—

“Come on.” Zhongli detaches himself and Ajax falls into the pillow. “Someone is on their way to kill us.”

“Someone is always trying to kill us,” Ajax complains. “You can’t go and say all those things and then—”

“Later.” Zhongli’s smile takes on a tease. “When we’ve broken the curse, we’ll have all the time in the world.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” Ajax smiles back, sits up, then immediately winces. Gods. He forgot how much pain his body was in.

“Can you walk?” Zhongli asks when Ajax swings his feet off the bed.

“Of course I can,” he laughs. “I’ve been through a lot worse.” 

Or, well, he has no way to remember. His body shows no signs of abuse besides the delusion pains that are admittedly bordering on the worst they’ve ever been. Serrated scraping deep in his tissues.

But his smile doesn’t fade. “You’re the one who called me durable, right?”

Zhongli responds with a stern frown. “I hope you will allow me to take care of you more now.”

“Only if you let me take care of—” Ajax breaks off in a wince when he stands and his body seizes like an old man’s. “Ah—that’s.... You didn’t happen to bring my medication with you?”

“Hu Tao has your things.” Zhongli’s brow creases. “So we should be able to get it when we meet up with them. I believe Beidou took Hu Tao to northern Liyue and met your family, so we should head that way.”

Ajax nods and starts limping towards a door marked as the washroom. He only had a little medication left, but it should be enough to ease this pain. After this, it feels like using a delusion might be off the table permanently.

“Zhongli?” He looks back at the adeptus closely following his every step. “I’m going to the washroom. What are you doing?”

“The last time I let you out of my sight you got kidnapped.”

“There’s no Fatui hiding in the toilet.” Ajax smiles. “I’ll be on the other side of the door. You can still feel my energy.”

The frown remains, even as his eyes soften in acquiescence. “I suppose I’ll go procure us some breakfast from the innkeeper. And perhaps a change of clothes.”

They both look down at the bloody hole in his shirt and suspiciously unbroken skin showing.

“I told the innkeeper we were foreign hikers who were attacked by wildlife,” Zhongli says. “But I find it hard to imagine she believed us dressed like this.”

Ajax looks at his own clothes. Black everything, from his socks to the tie that has come loose. They look like a set of his Harbinger formalwear, minus all the accessories and heavy outer layers. It’s not a very normal thing to wear in public, especially in the summer in other countries.

The spot on his belt usually reserved for a delusion is empty. Zhongli must have gotten rid of it.

“Okay, see you in a minute then.” The smile they share doesn’t feel like enough, so Ajax leans over to give him a quick kiss. He’s amazed he can do this now, but it truly feels like second nature, like an old habit they’re just rediscovering.

They both have trouble breaking from it. Zhongli releases him with clear reluctance and worry lingering in his eyes. Ajax watches the door close behind him, then enters the washroom and splashes cold water on his face.

There’s no mirror, but he doesn’t want to see himself wearing his old clothes anyway. Or see his eyes—who knows whether they’re dark from his brief imprisonment or light because he and Zhongli are together now?

Ajax grips the sink and tries to recenter himself. To remember the one helpful thing from his training: focus, even in the midst of a storm. There’s no time for emotion—his residual anger and worry about his family and new thrill about Zhongli. They have a train to catch and a curse to break. Things are not nearly over yet.

Speaking of the curse.... As he gets ready and his head clears, Ajax realizes he has an idea.

In that vague, numb time he spent in a trance, the CEO’s grip on him was stronger and the structure of their bond was clearer than ever. Zhongli explaining that she was trying to create an artificial replication of a soulmate bond helped solidify his understanding, too. It in no way feels the same, but seeing her intent sheds some light on what kind of spell could sever it.

Ajax still doesn’t understand all the technical jargon Zhongli and Rayyan have discussed, but he knows what he feels. If he can explain it to them—the shape and sense of the curse’s hold over him—maybe together they can find the right spell.

Zhongli returns with food and clothes, and soon they’re both ready to leave. They offer the innkeeper their deepest gratitude, but she refuses to take more than a little money from them. 

There really is hope for humanity, Ajax thinks as she waves them off. So many people have been willing to help them on this journey. There are pockets of good people everywhere, just trapped in the larger system. As long as greed doesn’t infect everyone, there’s hope. Even his jaded soulmate has at last said he’s ready to fight back.

They get on a carriage with a few other guests of the inn and ride down the valley into the nearby city. Their hands find each other the moment they sit down, a natural instinct now that the final, flimsy barrier between them has broken. Weeks of small touches and more have built up to this, and now Ajax wonders how he ever lived with any space between them at all.

On the ride, Ajax explains his idea to Zhongli.

“Yes, that makes sense,” Zhongli muses. “The connection is one-way, but it’s the same principle with the resonances. Maybe we’ve been too focused on a brute-force approach. What she’s created is a crude imitation of our bond. In theory, if we apply the same cross-entanglement framework....”

They continue discussing new options until they arrive in the city. Their hands never once separate as they make their way to the central train station. It’s a massive, beautiful work of architecture with stained glass and curved green metal, but they don’t have time to enjoy the view or the relaxed Fontainian atmosphere as they find a timetable.

“All trains to Liyue go through Qingce. There are trains from here to Qingce, but the next one isn’t until tomorrow,” Zhongli reads.

“What do we do?” Ajax asks. “There’s no efficient way to get there besides the train, but we’ll lose our head start if we stay the night. You couldn’t transform again, could you?”

Zhongli shakes his head. “I used all the energy I stole to get us here. There are likely sources of qi somewhere, but in all these years, I haven’t come across enough to sustain my transformation besides what Barnabas had.”

They sit dejectedly on a bench and watch the busy crowd flow through a long area filled with little shops and a tall, stained glass roof that throws multi-colored light over everything. Ajax pulls out Rayyan’s device and checks it. It flickers, broken. If they stay in one place too long, the Tsaritsa will know their location, and she’ll tell whoever she sent after them.

After a moment of thinking, Zhongli sighs. “I should call Beidou. She ought to be at the safehouse right now, so I can tell her to take the machine to Qingce. We can stay here tonight and meet her tomorrow.”

That seems to be the only choice they have. But seeing Zhongli get hurt because of him has convinced Ajax that.... “She should leave the machine somewhere remote. We can figure out how to break the curse alone.”

“Alone?”

“I don’t want anyone else getting caught up in this.” Ajax searches his gaze. “The CEO probably sent Scaramouche or someone worse after us.”

Zhongli sighs again. “You’re right. It’s best if we handle this on our own without putting anyone else in danger.” One heavy sigh cascades into the next. “She won’t like it, but I’ll tell her. Hu Tao, too.”

“And tonight, we shouldn’t stay in the city, in case they find us.” Ajax doesn’t want any collateral damage in case things go wrong. So far, Scaramouche has been tactful in his pursuit, but with the Fatui’s renewed desperation to find them, who knows what lengths they’ll go to.

“Yes, that’s a good idea, but we can’t go far. The train leaves mid-morning.” After a pause, Zhongli nods, decision made. “For now, let’s go find a telephone to call the safehouse.”

He stands, but Ajax remains frozen on the bench, even as he pulls his hand. “My–my family will be there, right?” he realizes. “When you call?”

Zhongli’s eyes soften in concern. “Yes.”

Ajax stands slowly. “I should—I have to talk to them.”

They already know by now. The resistance has surely told them that he was a Harbinger and the Fatui is hunting them. But Ajax needs to explain the whole story, lay out everything he’s kept hidden from them and beg for forgiveness, a moment he’s feared more than anything else.

After a decade of lies, they should hear the full truth from his lips.

He stares at the ground, dread gnawing at his stomach, until Zhongli squeezes his hand and says, “I’ll be right here with you.”

Ah, yes, that’s right. After ten years of fighting alone, he doesn’t have to face this by himself.

Ajax looks back into Zhongli’s sun-drenched eyes. How utterly bizarre, to have someone standing by him.

Even if the world ends tomorrow, right now Zhongli’s hand is tight around his. The suffering they’ve been through and caused may have been for nothing, but they’ve arrived here, in this moment, and despite everything, his hope refuses to die.

“Thank you.” He feels his expression relax as his stomach eases.

“Of course.” Zhongli once again brushes a hand over his face as he seems fond of doing. “Always.”

Ajax swallows the swell of emotions and the corner of his mouth lifts. “Hu Tao isn’t going to be very happy either, you know.”

Zhongli smiles that devastating, gilded smile. “Yes, I’m going to have an earful about running off like an idiot.” His hand remains a second longer before dropping. “But I would do it again in a heartbeat.”

Ajax stares at him. Stares at the soft expression on his face, how the stained glass throws sparkling light over his skin, at this incredible twist of fate that is somehow his.

“Let’s go find a telephone.” Zhongli starts to pulls him forward again. “Ajax?”

Ajax’s attention is ensnared, unmoved as he can’t help himself from murmuring, “You’re so perfect.” He can say things like that openly now, things he would never think to say to another person, things he didn’t think he was capable of feeling. How strange.

“So are you,” Zhongli says, instant and smooth, despite the randomness of the statement.

“No, I really...from the first moment I saw you...and I can’t believe....” It was his first thought, that Zhongli had designed himself a beautiful human form. And with time, he discovered that everything else was beautiful, too. It doesn’t make sense that a perfect being wants him like this, but he’s grateful anyway.

“I mean it, too,” Zhongli says. “To see your eyes like this....”

“My eyes?” The empty, dead eyes that have so long kept him from looking in a mirror?

“They’re filled with light.” Zhongli smiles, his own absolutely ablaze. “And I want to keep them that way.”

Ajax also cannot stop himself from pulling his soulmate into a kiss in the middle of the crowded train station.

Chapter Text

As his world ends, Ajax finds himself hanging in the space between his story and his family’s response, in the wires that cross the miles between them, in the aftermath of the protective barrier he built collapsing to dust.

“Ajax....” his mother says at long last, after he has died and been reborn a thousand times in the seconds before her voice reaches him. “We’re just glad you’re safe.”

“W-what?” His voice cracks, and his hand clutches the phone so tight it may break.

“We have a lot to talk about in person.” Her own voice sounds fragile like he’s never heard before, a tremble on the edge of shattering. “It’s been...a lot, it truly has, I won’t lie, but we—” She pauses to breathe, and he can’t, he can’t make his mother cry— “You mean everything to us. It’s enough just to know you’re safe.”

“I lied to you.” An unfamiliar heat swells behind his own eyes. “Mama, everything I ever told you was a lie, and I—you should be furious—”

“Oh, I am.” Bitter strength blossoms in her voice. “I am heartbroken, but it’s for you, my son. I can’t stand the thought of what those monsters have done.”

“Those monsters?” he repeats, a choked whisper. “I was the one.... I–I pretended to be a good person to your face while I....” A stream, a tumble, an admittance of so much held back waiting to rush forth. “I was a coward. I could have done so much more to break my curse and get us out. I k–killed people by choice because I was too afraid to do the right thing. Mama, I’m the—” I’m the monster.

No matter what Zhongli says, Ajax will not forgive himself so easily. For the people he’s killed and the lives he’s destroyed and the lies he’s told—yes. But also because he could have escaped years ago if he’d tried a little harder.

 It hasn’t been easy to get to this point of being able to break the curse, but all he had to do this whole time was talk to the right people. He was a coward, protecting his family and himself at the cost of others’ welfare. If he’d just tried a little harder....

For years, his mindset was kill or be killed. Protect those who matter most at any cost. Do the least damage just so he could sleep at night. Dream of a future where he was free to be a good person, but—

The clues were there the whole time. The Fatui were experimenting on people with the same demon blood in the shadows, and if he’d only put more effort into trying to find a solution, he may have. If only.

This consequence comes into full force when speaking to his mother. If he’d truly been willing to give it all for his family, he would have sacrificed himself years ago in the hope that they’d leave them alone after he was dead.

It’s easy to be a good person now when he’s free, but when it mattered, he was just a coward.

“Ajax.” Strong, his mother’s voice, when he is so weak. “You can’t hold yourself solely responsible for—”

There’s an abrupt scuffle, and then Tonia’s voice comes through the line, hard and stern. “Brother, when you get here, you’re going to teach me how to fight. And then I’m going to the capital and I’ll kick every single Fatui a—”

“Tonia!” says a muffled voice. “Give the phone back!”

“No!” she says. “He needs to hear this. Ajax, listen to me.” Her voice gets clearer. “You do deserve a good punch in the face for not trusting us because we’re supposed to be a family and how dare you try to take all of this alone, but also—”

“Tonia!” repeats the scandalized voice.

“Also, we’re always on your side no matter what.” His sister’s usually stoic voice takes on a crack. “Okay?”

“Okay,” he whispers, too overwhelmed to grasp for a proper reply. “Tonia...I–I’m so sorry—”

“No,” she says firmly. “None of that. We’ll talk when we see you. You’ll break the curse and meet us here and everything will be okay, alright?”

He wants to laugh. His little sister, assuring him that everything will be okay. His little sister, taking care of him. When he was supposed to protect them.

“Brother?” she says at his silence.

“Yeah, Tonia.” Ajax swallows. “It’ll be okay.”

“Everyone here says bye. Stay safe.”

“You too.”

There’s a pause, and then Tonia’s voice breaks for real, a rare and devastating thing. “We love you.”

“I love you, too,” he whispers.

Only after he hears the soft click do tears start to flow.

Ten years of lies and ten years of restrained tears he wished he could cry. As truth at last breaks forth, so does an avalanche of emotion turned to rivers.

He has choked them down for so long, thought his dead eyes had forgotten how to cry. And now everything he’d been hiding makes itself known.

Ajax puts the phone back on its receiver and his head in his hands. The tears grow, uncontrollable, until they are quiet sobs that shake his shoulders.

Everything he’d been holding tight within him swells and falls from his eyes. Like a release, horrible and cathartic, a tide to sweep him away. A foundation he had built over years collapsing to shatter his world. He doesn’t know how to deal with it.

He’s not alone.

He looks back to the entrance of the private telephone room. Zhongli had left to give him space to call his family, and now he stands there gripping the doorframe. A single tear tracks down his face from those golden eyes twisted in concern.

“Zhongli…why are you crying?” Ajax chokes out.

His soulmate doesn’t answer, merely closes the door and crosses the room to pull him into an embrace. Ajax melts into his arms without question, as if they are the home he belongs in.

I feel everything you feel is the obvious answer.

Their bond is a cruel one, that Zhongli should also cry while feeling his heart break. But he doesn’t seem to mind. He holds him close and strokes his hair while Ajax soaks his shoulder with tears.

“I’m so sorry,” Ajax hears himself sobbing. “Zhongli...I—”

“Shh,” he just says, arms tight. “It’s okay.”

“No, I— How can you want to be with me after everything I’ve done? Your children, Zhongli, and I could have, I could’ve— ”

“Ajax,” Zhongli murmurs, voice light in its brokenness. “Who was the one telling me not to feel guilty? The past is the past. All that matters are the choices you make now.”

“I...I know that....” He tries to take some stabilizing breaths. “I know that, but I–I hurt so many people. I don’t, I can’t—”

His fingers dig into the fabric of Zhongil’s coat. After so long wishing he could cry, now he can’t stop, even as he breathes, even as he knows that everything’s okay because that conversation went better than he dreamed it could. He muffles himself in Zhongli’s shoulder and tries to focus on the energy that rushes over him in soothing waves.

“I was a coward,” he chokes out. “If I had just tried harder, I could’ve—could’ve done something. How can you say...?”

Your will is what’s kept your family safe all these years.

Your family would be proud of you.

I forgive you.

Ajax has been acting strong, like he’s ready to move on, like he’s done being a victim, but in truth, there is so much he hasn’t been brave enough to face.

By fighting for others, he stayed strong. But he never took a moment to take care of himself, to let himself feel the devastation of what happened to him. And now, when his shield is weakened by Zhongli’s care and his family’s acceptance.... The last blockade keeping back the tears was his family’s response to the truth.

“You did your best,” Zhongli says after a moment. “You made hard choices in a situation where you couldn’t win.”

“I know that,” he repeats feebly. It doesn’t make him feel any better.

“I don’t care what you’ve done.” Zhongli puts a hand on his face and lifts his gaze. “I care who you are.”

Ajax just nods. Because he knows. He really does. His mind is already at the conclusion, while his heart flounders to catch up.

“Thank you.” His voice is weak, but the tears have slowed. He leans into Zhongli’s hand and closes his eyes. “They...they weren’t angry. They said...they’re always on my side....”

Fresh heat swells and spills softly down his face. Zhongli wipes the tears away.

“You’re going to be free soon,” he murmurs. “And we’ll all be safe together.”

Ajax nods again and takes a long, deep breath. He resolved to earn everyone’s forgiveness and become worthy of a future where he’s a good person. Zhongli forgave him. His family, though it will certainly take more conversations, will forgive him. They are moving forward together. Everything will be okay.

He wishes it could be as simple as that. He knows how much Zhongli cares, while his mind fights the logic with toxic whispers of You aren’t someone he should care about. It doesn’t make sense that he would want you. That he would choose you.

But despite them, he opens his eyes and gives his soulmate an unsteady smile. “Yeah, we’ll be okay.”

Zhongli scans his expression, something aching in his eyes, his own heartbreak reflected back. “Can...I...?”

Ajax nods, and Zhongli kisses the tears off his face before pressing a soft, tense, lingering one to his lips. Ajax seeks more for just a few seconds, then presses his forehead to Zhongli’s and sighs shakily.

“Let’s find a place to stay.” He clears his throat from the tears. “We have a train to catch tomorrow.”

Zhongli holds him tight for a few seconds longer. They share a small smile, one of equal sorrow and hope, before turning to leave.

***

With just enough money for the train tickets, they decide to camp on the outskirts of the city. They find a semi-secure grove of trees and lie down wrapped together. Once again, it is astonishingly natural. When they first slept holding each other, in the desert a million years ago, Ajax was tense, overcome with wondering what it meant to Zhongli. Now, after their conversation, he feels at home and safe despite everything.

As well as utterly exhausted from the day's events.

Ajax starts to drift off, but after a few minutes, he realizes that Zhongli is still alert. “Hey,” he murmurs. “Are you going to sleep?”

“I think I should keep watch.” Zhongli’s eyes are open, a soft glow in the darkness. “I’ve recovered enough since yesterday.”

“Are you sure?”

“I don’t need as much sleep as you.” A comforting hand cards through his hair. “I’ll rest later.”

Ajax is too emotionally wrung out and tired to argue, quickly lulled into sleep by Zhongli’s hand and the peaceful energy that flows between their souls.

They are both on full alert on the ride to Qingce the next day. Now that so much time has passed and with Rayyan’s device occasionally losing power, the enemy could appear at any moment. Thankfully, they get to the large, Liyuan city without trouble.

“Beidou’s warehouse is west of here.” Zhongli squints at the map in the train station. “Out beyond the fields. It’s past midday, so she should’ve already left the machine there.”

Yesterday, when they called the safe house, Beidou agreed to their plan. She, Hu Tao, and Ajax’s family are currently staying at the safe house somewhere close to Qingce in the countryside. After Zhongli explained everything, she told them she would travel to Qingce with the machine and leave it in her warehouse on the outskirts of the city. Then she would get back to safety as they wished. By now, she should have left the machine and returned to the safe house with the others.

Thankfully, Ajax is already familiar with the Fatui’s assets in Qingce. Since he turned traitor, there’s a good chance they’ve changed things, but they are still as careful as possible as they make their way out to the rural area surrounding the city and go on foot along dirt roads past a mile of crop fields.

Soon they’ve arrived at the foot of a small mountain and find a few buildings nestled in a grove of bamboo amongst the towering rocks. They cross a stone bridge over a small, rushing stream into the secluded area. Beyond a few farmers they left a mile back, there’s no sign of human activity. Except.... Wait—

Zhongli freezes, throwing an arm in front of him at the same time that Ajax’s own instincts flare up. “Someone’s in the warehouse,” he mutters.

Ajax casts his senses forward at the collection of buildings, still a dozen meters away, past Zhongli’s blinding aura. Strong sunlight pierces through the bamboo thicket to dapple the old construction, piles of crates and jars, carts, sets of footprints in the dirt. Defensive wards span the space, but they aren’t enough to stop Ajax from sensing the energy signatures of not one but eight distinct people.

“No way,” he says. Because those are....

They glance at each other, then jog forward simultaneously. The moment they cross the wards’ threshold, the door of the nearest building is thrown open and a blur of black and red rushes at them.

“You fucking idiots.” The blur hits them both with an angry exclamation and fierce hug. “You absolute, utter dumbasses, I swear to the gods— ”

“Hu Tao,” Zhongli tries to say, scowling, as she squeezes them tight enough to crack ribs. “What are you—”

“Ajax!” Hu Tao ignores her brother and pulls back to grip Ajax’s hands. Her eyes search his face, angry, scared, determined. “How are you feeling? I’ll kill every last one of those fuckers, I—”

“I’m fine.” He wants to smile at her response—exactly the same as Tonia’s—but his stomach rolls at seeing her. “You’re not supposed to be here, we told you to stay at the safe house.”

“You think you can get rid of me that easily?” Hu Tao glares at both of them. “We’re a family, I’m never letting you leave me behind again.”

No wonder she gave in so easily when Zhongli called her and Beidou and told them to stay at the secure location. She wasn’t planning to listen to them at all.

“They can track us,” Ajax insists. “Someone is probably right behind us as we speak.”

“Then you need all the backup you can get, right?” The glare morphs into her characteristic devil smile.

“No, we need—”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got it all sorted.” She ignores Ajax’s protests and pulls them toward the biggest building.

Beidou is leaning against the open doorframe with her eyebrows raised, watching the interaction with a small smile.

“You lied to me,” Zhongli says when they reach her.

“Yeah, well.” The pirate smirks. “You were being stupid. Noble, but stupid.”

“You were supposed to keep Hu Tao safe.” The adeptus’ hard tone indicates that he is equally as unhappy that their friends have decided to put themselves in danger.

“She’s an adult.” Beidou shrugs. “She knows the risks, and she chose this. Come on, we’ve all been waiting.”

With that declaration, she turns to lead them into the building. Ajax can sense before even looking through the open door who awaits them.

He glances at Zhongli. The adeptus is still scowling, but Ajax feels his heart swell against his will to strangle his concern. He wanted to keep everyone safe and they deliberately ignored him, yet once again he can’t help feeling fondness for their friends.

The room is well-lit by lanterns and sunlight streaming through the open windows. It has a dirt floor and wooden walls, filled with stacks of crates, and against a wall leans the precious machine. And the people waiting eagerly inside....

The first face he sees is Kazuha, who nods in greeting. Past him are Hu Tao’s three friends. Xiangling is smiling brightly, Chongyun looks grim and Xingqiu determined. And past them are...Diluc and Venti.

“Hu Tao—” Zhongli begins, and Ajax can sense his mind spinning as wildly as his own.

“As soon as you left the Harbor, we all headed north,” she says, grinning widely. “Beidou and Kazuha were going to come with me to meet Ajax’s family anyway, and the resistance decided to come along. We were considering storming Snezhnaya once we made sure his family was safe.”

“Hu Tao—”

“But thankfully you got out.” Her crimson eyes gleam. “I called Rayyan, too. They should be arriving soon, it’s a bit of a longer journey. And as for our guests from Mondstadt....”

“I heard your prayer, old friend.” Venti steps forward, his grin as wide and mischievous as Hu Tao’s.

“When did I...?” Zhongli’s scowl deepens.

“Well, I’m not sure you were praying to me,” the bard says. “But I was keeping an ear out for you, and the wind told me you were in danger. So I contacted this fine young lady, who said you all needed help.”

Ajax watches Zhongli’s face constrict further. The two gods have a lot to talk about concerning their fellow fallen archon. Zhongli mentioned that his old friend was ready to take up arms again, so it makes sense that Venti would come to fight for them. But....

“You—” Ajax says, glancing between Hu Tao’s friends and Diluc. “I thought you hated me.”

It’s one thing to help his innocent family get to freedom or exchange intel for a favor. But Ajax has killed friends of theirs personally, and now they’re all here to fight alongside him?

Diluc shrugs, expression far too casual for the situation they’re in. “I’m just here to kill Fatui. If it happens to be defending you, so be it.”

There’s something else under his words, a flicker of something that will never be spoken in the eyes that lock with Ajax’s. Forgiveness can be found anywhere, it seems.

“I believe in second chances.” Xingqiu glances at his friends. “How can you have a second chance to fight for justice if you aren’t free? It’s our duty to help people in need, whoever they are.”

Xiangling nods in agreement. “And even if it weren’t our duty, we want to protect the people Hu Tao loves.”

“This is just what we do.” Beidou moves from the door to clap him on the shoulder. “The strength of the resistance comes from us fighting together. You’re one of us now, so get used to it.”

Ajax stares at all these impossible people. He doesn’t deserve it, his family’s acceptance yesterday or these people’s willingness to fight for him today. The thought rises again of how strange it is to have people supporting him. To not be alone. This is where hope is born, in the connection between people. In their strength together.

“That’s all well and good,” Zhongli says to the room, tone caught between appreciation and anger, “but there is certainly a Harbinger or Harbingers coming to kill us. You all need to leave before—”

“We’re not leaving.” Hu Tao plants herself in front of the group. “We’re all going to fight together.”

“Even together, the danger is too extreme,” Zhongli says.

“I’m not so sure about that.” Venti’s smile is bright, yet tempered by solemnity. “Isn’t there something to be said about fighting for love?”

Zhongli snorts as if exasperated, but Ajax can sense the crashing waves of fear in his soulmate, amplified by and resonating with his own. He must be thinking of the loss of his family again, reflected in these earnest, kind faces that could all too soon meet a similar fate.

“That’s a nice sentiment, but poetry doesn’t win battles,” Zhongli says, voice hard.

“It’s not a sentiment.” Venti crosses his arms. “A good reason to fight is just as important as power. If all the enemy has is greed, I’d say we have the upper hand.”

A reason to fight. In spite of the danger, Ajax feels himself caving. He looks over at Zhongli, whose expression is unmoved, and takes his hand. We have people to fight for. We have each other. “He’s...not wrong.”

“You agree with this?” Zhongli asks.

“Not exactly,” Ajax says. “But I don’t think we can convince them to leave.”

Venti’s grin widens. “No, you can’t.” Then he ruins his eloquent argument with: “Besides, if we do die, this will make a nice ballad. A group of friends fighting for love against an evil corporation. I already have a few drafts—”

“Fine,” Zhongli sighs. His returned grip tightens. “But if you aren’t going to leave, we shouldn’t waste time talking.”

“Yes, we need to hurry.” Ajax looks to the room. There’s no point in standing around arguing when the enemy is coming. “The wards outside aren’t enough to hold back a Harbinger, so someone should try to reinforce the defenses while we get to work with the machine. When will Rayyan be here?”

“They said their train was arriving this afternoon,” Hu Tao says.

“We’ll start working until they get here. We have a few new ideas.” And if Rayyan can repair their device to block the tracker when they get here, maybe they could all move to someplace safer. Whichever option is quickest.

“Can we help?” Beidou asks.

“I don’t think so.” Ajax glances at Zhongli, who shakes his head. “We just need some time.”

“What kinds of things can we set up?” Xingqiu frowns. “What defenses can slow a Harbinger?”

Even though he’s an ex-Harbinger himself, Ajax doesn’t know of any ward that Scaramouche can’t break. He throws out a few ideas of different techniques. There are ways to mask their auras, create illusions, but at the end of the day, his old colleagues can probably brute-force their way through anything thrown together this quickly. They don’t have the time to set up elaborate, thorough defenses. They don’t have the right artifacts on them for powerful defensive spells, and if the two spirit beings present use magic, it’ll be a dead giveaway of their location.

“We’ll go figure something out, give you some space with the machine.” Xingqiu gestures everyone out the door.

“I’m going to go meet your friend Rayyan when they get to Qingce,” Beidou says. At the look on their faces, she waves a hand. “Don’t worry—there’s no reason the Fatui would recognize me. We’ll be careful on our way back here.”

Venti throws a last smile at them as they all file out. Ajax hopes their combined expertise can come up with something effective. Time is not on their side.

 Hu Tao is the last to leave. She stands at the door for a moment, crimson eyes soft. “I’m still furious, you know. But I’m glad you’re safe.”

“Hu Tao—” Zhongli begins, but she shakes her head.

“It’s okay. We’ll talk later.”

“How’s my family?” Ajax asks. He talked to them on the telephone, but she’s actually spent a couple days with them.

“They’re doing okay.” Her expression shifts to something comforting. “They’re great people, just like you described. I explained a bit of what we’ve been through, and they’re really worried about you. But they’ll be okay.”

Ajax swallows, the tears of last night still heavy on his mind. They’re okay. It’s Zhongli’s turn to give his hand a firm squeeze.

Hu Tao looks at their joined hands and her eyebrow rises teasingly. “I know we don’t have time to talk, but does this mean...?”

“Yeah.” Ajax glances at Zhongli, and they both smile for real. “We, uh, talked some things out.”

“Really?” Her face brightens and she claps her hands together. “That’s great! Gods, it took you two forever.”

Zhongli snorts again. This time his exasperation sounds genuine and fond. “No thanks to your meddling.”

“Well, maybe a bit.” Ajax finds himself smiling. “Would you have given me a chance back then if she hadn’t tried to make us be friends?”

The lightest pink tints Zhongli’s cheekbones. “Yes. Perhaps it would’ve taken some time, but I would’ve gotten there eventually.”

“I love getting recognition as the incredible matchmaker that I am, but I don’t need any credit.” Hu Tao smirks. “I’m just happy for you.”

“Thank you anyway,” Ajax says. “For this. For everything.”

Zhongli’s expression finally softens. “Yes and I—”

“It’s okay. You can tell me how amazing I am when we’re safe.” She pulls them both into another hug, a tight crush in recognition of all the emotion shared between them. “Now get to work.”

Hu Tao releases them with a last, lingering look, then leaves the building after the others.

Chapter Text

“What did you do to it?” Rayyan gasps.

Ajax looks at the broken device in their hands with a grimace. “It was in my pocket when I was fighting, and I got thrown around a lot.”

The student’s lips press into a firm line. “That took weeks of work. Arguably my finest creation, thank the gods I took plenty of notes, but now....” They shake their head with a heavy sigh. “I don’t blame you, but this is too much damage to fix in a day. It would be faster to just remove the curse, now that we have an idea of how to proceed.”

Ajax and Zhongli watch Rayyan turn to the human-sized machine. Beidou and the alchemist arrived from Qingce five minutes ago, and they rushed inside to examine it. The late afternoon’s fading light streams through a window to light the dark metal of the frame and panels and the batteries that hum when Rayyan turns them on.

“Does it help seeing it in person?” Zhongli asks.

“Yes, very much.” They run a finger over the sensors. “This is fascinating. The interlay is exactly as you described....”

“Thank you for coming,” Ajax says. The pit in his stomach has eased, but it isn’t gone. “And putting yourself in danger, I never meant—”

“I should be thanking you actually.” Rayyan turns back. “I decided about a week after you left to quit the Akademiya.”

“Quit?” Ajax repeats in shock. “But how will you make a living?” The way Rayyan talked about Sumeru’s caste system made it sound like Akademiya dropouts were put on a blacklist so that no one would hire them.

“I’ll have to emigrate and find work in some other country.” The corner of their mouth crooks up. “There’s no place for me in Sumeru anymore. Helping you made me realize I could use my alchemy for good. I could have purpose, instead of wasting my talents serving the Akademiya. Who knows?” Their smile turns real. “Maybe I’ll join your resistance. Seems like they need competent alchemists.”

“I’m sure you can find a place with them,” Ajax says with a glance at Zhongli. “But are you sure? You’d be leaving everything behind.”

“Seeing you quit a corrupt institution gave me the bravery to do the same.” Determination swims in their coffee-brown eyes. “So I really do want to thank you. I’ve always wanted to do the right thing, and this is my chance.”

Ajax matches their smile. “There’s a lot of that going around.”

While it scares him to put his friends in harm’s way, the decision is ultimately theirs. And he can’t pretend it doesn’t inspire him to see people taking up arms everywhere, people willing to fight and do the right thing. People like him, who just needed a chance.

“I hope you have taken everything into consideration when choosing this path,” Zhongli says.

“I have.” Rayyan gives a small laugh. “I’m not rebellious by nature, but I’m done being stuck. Everyone has a breaking point.”

“Then I wish you the very best.” Zhongli, for once, smiles along with them. It seems he really is done admonishing people for risking their lives and taking a stand.

“I would, however, appreciate not getting caught in a battle this soon.” Rayyan turns their attention back to the machine. “So let’s get this done.”

The men join them, and Zhongli summarizes their progress with the machine, how every experiment aggravated the curse and ended in failure. Then Ajax describes how the curse felt at its strongest. There was a lot he held back before, when he gave Rayyan only the necessary information, but now he lays everything out, including the details of his bond with Zhongli and, with permission, the adeptus’ identity. The whole picture is important, especially because the curse’s structure feels like it was modeled after a soulmate bond.

“That certainly...puts a new perspective on it,” Rayyan muses. They didn’t bat an eye at the new information. Maybe they could infer everything the two had been hiding. “Unfortunately, this is getting out of my area, but I think I understand. It’s not so much about severing it as unentangling the energies, right?”

“Yes,” Zhongli says. “Our previous approaches were to, essentially, burn it out or cut it away. We hadn’t thought to deresonate the entire structure.”

“We were overly focused on the attachment nodes.” Rayyan nods. “This parasite has tricked its prey into a facsimile of a symbiotic relationship. Like your two souls resonating. Except it’s just taking from Ajax’s soul and giving nothing back.”

Ajax instinctively rubs a hand on the back of his neck. The mark there has been semi-dormant since their escape, sometimes tingling, sometimes subdued. Like a threat, a knife hanging over him ready to fall.

“We need to throw off the resonance.” Rayyan opens a small notebook and flips through the pages. “Once your soul recognizes it’s being tricked, it should reject the bond. You will...‘slide loose’ from each other, so to say. And then when the curse is detached from the host, we can kill it with a typical demon exorcism.”

“A strong one.” Zhongli’s eyes darken. “There’s no point in me avoiding using magic right now, the enemy already knows where we are. I can kill it myself on the spot.”

“You have enough energy for that?” Ajax asks.

His soulmate kneels and puts a hand to the dirt floor. Ajax feels his energy thrumming, reaching out, and Zhongli’s eyes narrow at what he finds. “The qi is dry here, but if I rest for a while, I can absorb enough to perform the banishing spells I used to use on powerful demons. If that fails, Hu Tao and I together may be able to perform a longer ritual.”

Rayyan frowns as they scribble some quick calculations. “I can’t be sure, but it seems there’s only a small window after we unentangle the energies to kill it before it will try to reattach. That’s the nature of a parasite like this.”

“You mean it’ll still be in my body when we detach it?” Ajax asks.

They nod. “The parasite has been physically inside you since they injected you with the blood. That mark on your neck is evidence. Unless we exorcise it immediately, it will try to attach to your soul again.”

Ajax can’t help a shiver from running down his spine. He knew the curse was living inside him all these years, but to hear it described like that is uncomfortable.

“Unlike a real soulmate bond,” Rayyan continues, “which is constituted of two independent entities, the curse can’t survive outside of you. Theoretically, if your two souls were unentangled, you’d be fine. But the curse is dependent on you to live. So it will fight with everything it has to take control again.”

“Can’t we just wait then?” Ajax asks. “Can’t we ‘deresonate’ it or whatever, and then wait for it to die on its own?”

They frown, considering, then shake their head. “It will start to reattach within minutes. We would have to keep doing the spell that deresonates it over and over again for hours. The fastest way is to kill it on the spot.”

Zhongli rises from where he had been focusing on the earth and his expression is grim. “Then we will have to make sure everything is perfect before we begin.”

***

The three of them get to work theorizing on the exact spells and components to use. The sun soon sets and evening deepens as the hours pass. At some point, Hu Tao brings them stew that Xiangling cooked for everyone. She finds Ajax sprawled across a crate, Rayyan furiously scribbling something, and Zhongli staring into the distance with his arms folded.

“Everyone doing alright?” she asks with a frown.

The other two are lost in thought, so Ajax sits up and sighs. “Yeah, this is just...taking a while.”

He’s been useless for some time, as Zhongli and Rayyan devolved into technical conversations that he couldn’t follow. As far as he can tell, they’re making some headway.

“Well, eat up.” Hu Tao sets the bowls on the crate acting as table. “You need your strength.”

“How’s everything going out there?” Ajax asks.

“We’ve done...our best.” She grimaces. “You’re the expert here, actually, if you have time to check.”

Ajax nods. It would be more useful to check the defenses than sitting here listening to the other two theorize.

At Hu Tao’s insistence, he eats the stew and then follows her. Outside, the full moon has risen to dominate the sky. Its pale light bleaches everything, turning stone white and bamboo muted green. The thick Liyuan summer air has turned cool in the sun’s absence. Soft chatting is coming from one of the buildings, and Diluc and Kazuha stand guard near the wards’ perimeter.

The others have shored up the collection of buildings with the best wards possible, as well as some physical traps. Ajax gives advice and fixes a thing or two. He knows he swore off using a delusion and he doesn’t have one anyway, but if he could use magic, it would make everything much more secure. They will have to make do with this makeshift setup.

His body still feels like shit. Hu Tao brought some of his medication with her, but he wanted to stay alert today. In the long run, the medication eases the damage from using magic, but the immediate side effects usually knock him out of it for a while. He hadn’t been taking it regularly before fighting Scaramouche, thus the backfire. And whatever happened in the CEO’s office only made the damage worse.

But Ajax knows he needs to stay alert until the curse is broken. He’s used to just living with the pain.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Hu Tao grabs his arm after he’s been staring at a tripwire for a full minute. “We’re taking sleeping shifts, you know. You and Zhongli could get some rest.”

“I’m....” Ajax wants to say fine. But is he? 

He’s still feeling raw from his conversation with his family last night and seeing everyone today. Danger hangs over their heads, and he doesn’t know what he can do to protect everyone if one of the top Harbingers shows up. His body is wracked with subtle pain that’s getting harder to ignore, and despite the constant pounding of adrenaline through his veins, he really is exhausted when he stops to think about it.

“I’m tired,” he finishes.

“You should sleep,” Hu Tao says gently. “There’s no point in continuing to work while you’re exhausted.”

Ajax almost argues with her, but maybe testing his limits is a bad idea right now. He also realizes that Zhongli definitely needs to rest. He didn’t sleep at all last night and he’ll need all the energy he can get to fight the curse.

Ajax returns to find the other two still sitting in stumped silence. Zhongli has, at least, eaten his stew, while Rayyan’s bowl remains untouched.

“Let’s go sleep a couple hours,” he says to them. “The others are on watch.”

His soulmate blinks, focus returning from wherever it was to his face. “We’re almost there, we shouldn’t stop.”

“You’ve been saying that for hours.” Ajax smiles faintly. “It feels like we’re stuck. Some rest would get our minds working again.”

“I slept on the train here.” Rayyan finally looks up from their notes. “So I’m good for a few more hours.” At Ajax’s frown, they continue, “I know, I know. I don’t usually sleep enough. I mean it this time. I’ll take the next shift.”

He considers insisting but concedes because they do genuinely look better rested than usual. “Fine. But you should eat something.”

Rayyan looks at the bowl of stew in surprise, as if it materialized in front of them, then picks it up and starts eating.

“Come on, Zhongli.” When the adeptus opens his mouth to argue, Ajax barrels on, “You told us you need rest to perform the spells. It won’t do any good to exhaust yourself.” Even if you’re a god, he wants to add. He’s seen firsthand that even Zhongli has limits.

After a ten-second staring contest, Zhongli lets out a heavy sigh and gets to his feet. “You aren’t wrong. I won’t be able to do anything without energy.”

Victorious, Ajax takes his hand to lead him to the adjacent building where there are some cots set up. They pass Beidou exiting the room, who gives them a smile and shuts the door behind her.

It’s a long room with about ten cots. Despite the availability and the fact that there’s no one else taking a sleeping shift right now, the two curl up on a single cot together without a word.

Zhongli lies on his back and Ajax settles beside him. His eyes want to close, but he’s still too wired to fall asleep immediately. He picks up Zhongli’s long trail of hair to thread his fingers through it. 

His soulmate looks over at him with a small smile, a crack on a face otherwise tightened with concern. “How are the defenses?”

“They’re...as good as they’ll be,” Ajax replies, echoing Hu Tao.

Zhongli closes his eyes with a long release of breath, a deflation that does nothing to the tension in his shoulders. “This situation is not ideal.”

Ajax hums in agreement. After a second, he realizes his fingers have started instinctively braiding his hair, like he used to braid Tonia’s hair every morning for school years ago. They haven’t forgotten the movements. The gesture doesn’t seem to calm Zhongli much, if the prickling energy of his soul is anything to go by.

“You’re afraid,” Ajax says. That’s an understatement; his fear is palpable, powerful, and stretches between them like a live wire.

Zhongli’s smile stretches thin as he opens his eyes again. “I don’t want anyone to get hurt. I’m glad we tried, but they’re all too stubborn for their own good.”

“If it’s Scaramouche who’s coming, I didn’t stand a chance against him.” Ajax’s voice drops. “I don’t know what the others can do.”

Venti is a spirit being, but he told them it takes most of his power to maintain a corporeal form. Beidou, Kazuha and probably Diluc are battle veterans, but this is a Harbinger they’re up against. And the others are just kids.

Ajax should be trying to comfort him, but the truth is that he’s just as scared.

Zhongli stares up at the ceiling. The single, flickering lantern casts shadow over half his face. “Hopefully it won’t come to that.”

“I didn’t tell you.” Ajax realizes. “I tried to reason with Scaramouche. And he told me...he killed his mother, the old shogun.”

Zhongli’s jaw clenches. “He killed her?”

“I know she was your friend....”

“Yes. We weren’t good friends by any means, but....” His body grows even tenser, and now Ajax can sense a tumultuous storm of battling emotions rumbling through his soul. “This is bad news for us. At her strongest, she was equal to me. A warrior god. At the time, she was greatly weakened by what had happened, but I assume he’s only grown in power since then.” Zhongli looks back at Ajax. “But you know him best. Is there anything we can do?”

“Maybe...I can get through to him this time.” He was so close, last time. There was real hesitation, real conflict in Scaramouche. He had several opportunities to injure Ajax, but he chose to hold back. “He feels guilty about killing her, he thinks he’s too far gone, a monster. He feels guilty about hurting me, too. There’s...there’s things I could say.”

Forgiveness and empathy were weapons that Ajax wielded effectively. It might take only a little more this time. With everything Ajax has learned about second chances, he might know just what to say.

Or his former mentor will crack and kill them all.

Zhongli’s rigid gaze softens ever so slightly. “If we do decide to take down Fatui Corp, you’ll be a great asset. You worked with the Harbingers, you know how they think.”

“They all have weaknesses.” Ajax nods. “They’ve all lost someone or been betrayed. Maybe they’re not beyond reason.”

Should he want to save the people who have caused so much harm? Who have experimented on him and threatened his family? Who have killed thousands and kept millions in poverty?

No, Ajax doesn’t want to. But it’s the right thing to do. Just as so many people have given him a chance. The people defending him today were once his victims. And yet here they are, believing in him, giving him a second chance in spite of the people he’s killed.

The shackles that kept him a murderer were forged from his love for his family. Each Harbinger has shackles of their own. In different circumstances, if the universe had treated them well, they may have been good people.

“If I can have a chance, they should too,” Ajax says with difficulty. “As much as I hate the idea of treating them with kindness, I don’t think returning hurt with hurt will end well.”

Zhongli takes the hand braiding and unbraiding his hair and presses a soft kiss to its knuckles. “This is what I meant by your strength. Not fighting power, inner strength. Something I lost for so long. I wish I....”

He meets Ajax’s eyes, and fear glimmers intensely in his gaze, only exacerbated by affection. Fear of losing him, perhaps. Fear of this all falling apart.

Ajax doesn’t know what to say to that. He doesn’t feel strong. He feels like a coward who is only now starting to take his destiny into his own hands.

It’s other people giving him a chance, not him being a good person. He wouldn’t have the choice to do the right thing without them.

It’s like Zhongli sees something in him that he can’t. Like Zhongli is commending him for something he feels like he’s faking. It’s not brave, it’s not strong, to be a good person when it’s easy.

But he just smiles, soft and conflicted. “You’re strong, too, you know.” A pathetic attempt to comfort. “To face all this again.”

“I’m...Ajax, I’m terrified. I just....” Zhongli’s eyes search his as he takes a shaky breath. Then he turns to pull him close and kiss him.

For a moment, Ajax tries to forget everything in Zhongli’s lips. But there is a desperation to his movements and a tremble in the arms that tighten around him. The kiss is a deflection.

“What’s wrong?” Ajax pulls back to murmur. The fear that roars and crashes in Zhongli’s soul is compounded at every gesture, every touch, only growing worse as they kiss.

“You know what’s wrong,” Zhongli says, voice low and eyes hard.  “I can’t—I can’t lose you.”

“You won’t.” Ajax squeezes his hand.

“I already did once. Ajax, the way I felt when they took you....”

“I know.” He can only imagine that, to someone who has lost everyone, the devastating protectiveness of their bond must make that experience unbearable.

“No, you....” Zhongli shakes his head. “You couldn’t.”

Ajax frowns softly. “Then tell me.”

“I don’t—” He shuts his eyes, every muscle in his face tense. “There is something I have not expressed to you, but I don’t know if now is the time.”

It’s not. They need to sleep. But it seems Zhongli is more awake than ever, and maybe talking about it will relieve some of the stress.

“If it helps, I’d like to know,” Ajax says.

“I’ve...I’ve felt that way before.” Zhongli’s murmur has the desperation of a confession. “Wanting to—to give up, to destroy everything in my path. And I can’t take it again.”

It hurts to see him so distressed. And Ajax does understand; he felt it that first fateful night. When the fear of losing his own family washed over him and was reflected onto Zhongli, he saw how much he struggled. His feelings make perfect sense, but there’s something deeper to his words now, something hidden and powerful.

“What is it?” Ajax asks.

Zhongli’s eyes are dark, a yawning void that threatens to consume the hope that fights for life against it. “Ajax, I want to give you everything, including the truth. But I...I’m—” He cuts himself off with a shake of his head.

“Tell me,” Ajax insists, gently. He’s not sure he wants to know, not sure it’s fair to ask with how strongly Zhongli is reacting, but he can’t help it.

His soulmate grips his hand like a lifeline, like an anchor. For a long moment, they lie still, bodies joined only by their hands, the sweet, warm air of Liyuan summer thick between them.

“There is...something I have tried my best to recover from,” Zhongli begins slowly, the strength of his voice wavering, “but it does affect our relationship. I haven’t told you why I went into hibernation.”

“Wasn’t it...?” Ajax realizes he doesn’t actually know and frowns. “Wasn’t it because you lost too much energy?”

“Yes, I had lost much of my strength.” The adeptus’ gaze shatters into faraway pieces. “A silent war crept up on me while I sat by in ignorance. My dearest friends began to disappear one by one. But the blow that sent me into hibernation…was when my husband died.”

“Husband?” Husband? No, no, no, maybe he doesn’t want to know after all because Zhongli has never once mentioned—

“We weren’t...married.” Zhongli swallows, eyes still lost. “Not in the human sense. But I don’t have a better word for it. We were together for hundreds of years and had committed to love each other for the rest of our lives.”

Love. Shards of ice, every word, sudden and overwhelming through Ajax’s heart. Yes, husband would be the word for that, and why, why has he never said...?  

“His name was Azhdaha. He was a vishap, like a dragon, the last of his kind,” Zhongli continues, voice low. “When the humans of Liyue mined the earth for qi, they disturbed the natural balance of the ley lines. This…drove him to madness.

“Our ancient contract specifically forbade conflict with the humans. They had yet to violate that contract directly. But when he lost his mind because of what the humans had done, he attacked them. By the time I learned of this and arrived at the battle…he was dead.”

So that’s what Ajax has sensed, all these weeks they’ve been practicing meditation, sitting with each other’s souls. That tidal wave of grief and fury he couldn’t bring himself to look at, the brokenness that lives deep in Zhongli’s soul, the history he couldn’t bear to reckon with.

“I killed them, the humans who murdered him.” Now it floods to the surface, in the intense amber eyes that focus on Ajax once more, in the heartache staining his voice. “Our contract was broken. I was paralyzed by grief and went into hibernation instinctually. I would not have abandoned my people by choice. At least I...I hope I would not have.”

Ajax is hardly listening as he struggles, flounders, drowns in the revelation.

“That feeling almost destroyed me, and I felt it again when you were kidnapped.”

The words don’t sink in. Love. Zhongli was in love with someone right up until he went into hibernation. Which means it’s only been about eight years from his perspective.... Eight years after the hundreds they were together....

What else hasn’t he told him? What else doesn’t Ajax know about his soulmate?

He can’t feel anything, can’t feel Zhongli still gripping his hand, as he tries to get a hold of himself. As Zhongli waits for a reply, looking as wrecked as Ajax feels.

“Of course you—” Hated me at first. Of course he would say things like I have no pity for human scum. Things like Humans are self-destructive left to their own devices. Humans are incapable of balance. The anger and bitterness of finding out his soulmate was a human. Not only because he was a victim of genocide but because....

“My kind killed your husband.” People like Ajax killed the person that Zhongli loved.

Within the space of a day, a ten-year streak is broken twice as Ajax feels heat welling behind his eyes again. He fights the tears with a clenched jaw. He will not cry, he has no right to cry, he’s the perpetrator who has contributed to Zhongli’s suffering and—

“Yes, humans did.” Zhongli frowns. “But it has nothing to do with you.”

“I’m the one”—He will not cry—“who hurt your children. I did that.”

Again, a deep, perfidious whisper, It doesn’t make sense that he cares about you. He must be lying. It’s just the bond, it’s—

“Ajax,” Zhongli says, sounding taken aback at his response. “How many times have I said it? I’ve forgiven you.”

Ajax shakes his head, eyes closed, jaw trembling in a fight that grows harder by the second. He doesn’t want to make this about himself. That’s not the point. Zhongli is trying to share about his past and his suffering and Ajax is supposed to be helping. And yet, though many conflicting thoughts rush through him, they all follow the same line: 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispers. “That’s the very last thing I want. And if being with me like this reminds you of—”

“I’m telling you this so you can understand,” Zhongli says. “It’s not your responsibility.”

“You said I—I made you feel that way again.”

“Not you. They did.” His voice hardens once again, now shot through with anger. “Ajax, look at me.”

He doesn’t want to, he can’t, but Zhongli’s hands find his face, soothe the tension, and Ajax’s eyes are coaxed open, filling with tears as they do.

“Corrupt people killed him, and corrupt people hurt you.” The gold consuming his vision blazes with fear, despair, and bitterness that fail to be tempered by an equal amount of affection. “I’m not over what happened, and yes, I am terrified of it happening again. But you have been nothing but a blessing.”

Against Ajax’s best efforts, a single tear escapes his eye.

“Just a few months ago, I believed I would be unhappy forever. I believed I didn’t deserve to move on.” Zhongli wipes the tear away. “It’s not easy, I won’t pretend, but this—this is what I’m trying to tell you. I have things to overcome, and I would like to fight them with you.”

“I’m not a”—Ajax swallows—“a weakness to mitigate?”

“It’s true I have felt terrible things by being bonded to you. But also equally good things. The feelings are hard, but you have made everything easier.”

Ajax feels his chest ease, his breath return. “You had...you had a husband,” he murmurs.

“Yes, and now I have a soulmate.” A weak, fluttering smile pierces Zhongli’s desperation like sunlight through clouds. “The past is gone, and you are my future.”

Ajax squeezes his eyes shut against tears threatening to resurface. “You really are strong, you know,” he laugh-cries. “I don’t understand how you survived what you did, how you can try to move on.”

“I had given up.” Zhongli’s voice at last softens, gives way under the weight of the emotion they share together. “I was ready to fade away. You make me strong. Please don’t doubt that. I just wanted you to understand.”

He shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t make this about himself, either. Ajax should be reassuring Zhongli that he won’t lose him, that he won’t let Zhongli go through that again. That everything will be okay.

But Ajax feels unequipped to comfort him because how...how can their budding relationship possibly compare to the hundreds of years Zhongli spent with his husband? Or the surely dozens of partners he had before that? The dragons and gods and beings of myth and how—how can Ajax possibly compare to them? How can he, an assassin, a servant of those who tore Zhongli’s family apart, possibly deserve to be by his side?

This feels like a moment that has been long coming. Ajax knows the whispers inside his head are leading him astray. He knows he has always been weak to them. He has been a coward, a victim of himself and others, for too long. He’s utterly sick of being helpless.

Zhongli is offering him the future. There is nothing standing in the way besides his fears. Happiness knocks on his door, and all he has to do is surrender to it. How can he act strong, say he’s ready to move on, when he can’t forgive his own feelings?

Now is the time to be brave.

“Zhongli.” Ajax opens his drying eyes. He finds that steady amber there, a foot away on the same pillow. “If we’re...exchanging truths...there’s something I want to tell you.”

Zhongli nods and squeezes the hand that stills holds his, stabilizes him as he searches his gaze.

Ajax takes a deep breath. “I don’t need you to feel the same way, but....”

He pauses, frozen in the moment, in these words so long coming, in the swell of courage he’s never felt before.

“I love you.”

A million conflicting things pass through Zhongli’s eyes before he opens his mouth, but Ajax presses a finger over it.

“Don’t. Don’t say anything. I know how you feel.” Zhongli isn’t ready to say it back, Ajax knows. Everything he’s already said is enough. “You asked, yesterday, for my patience, and you have it. Take all the time you need. Because....” 

What is he trying to say? Ajax realizes that for all the many beautiful, eloquent things Zhongli said when they got together, he said almost nothing. He couldn’t say anything.

So many lies, deceptions, masks his whole life. His entire existence a façade. Ajax was never allowed to entertain his own wishes before, and he doesn’t know how. But now, with this chance to be honest, to express his own, true feelings, he will try.

He can say this one thing.

“I love you and I’ll stand by you.”

However long it takes.

Even if I don’t feel worthy.

Even if my doubts never fade.

I’ll be here until you’re ready.

“You won’t lose me. You won’t have to go through that again.” Ajax swallows. “I want to fight with you, too. We’ll fight together and—” We’ll win together.

But he can’t promise that. He never makes promises he can’t keep. The future is uncertain, and fate seems to have a fucked-up sense of irony. Maybe Zhongli will lose him, maybe he’ll lose Zhongli, and all this struggle will have been for nothing.

He wants to trust that they are each other’s salvation, but he can’t promise.

“We might lose,” he whispers. “But you’re right, we make each other strong. Because of this.” Because of moments like this.

Because they can find the strength in each other when they can’t find it in themselves.

“I’m ready to face everything with you, too.”

Zhongli removes the finger over his mouth, eyes glowing gently. “Ajax, I—”

“No.” He shakes his head. “Please don’t say anything. Just....”

Zhongli understands. He always does. His gaze is torn, but he pulls Ajax into a deep kiss, something more heated and consuming than usual, all the words Ajax doesn’t want to hear communicated through touch. As if he could kiss away his doubts. As if the arms that draw them chest to chest can crush the fears they share between them. As if they can meld into one and dispel the weight of history.

It really does do more than words sometimes. Ajax feels himself relaxing, and all the insanity of the last two days leaks from his chest like tension punctured. He returns the desperate kiss until he is genuinely too tired to keep up.

Zhongli lets him go after a minute to press their foreheads together and take a heavy, shaky breath. Ajax is scared he’ll try to continue the conversation, but he only says, “You’re right, I really—I really do think I need sleep.”

His voice is lighter, if only slightly. It seems like Ajax’s attempt to comfort him succeeded.

“Sleep so you can get enough energy. And then we can....” We can find a way to deal with all of this, a path forward. We can recover together.

“Yes.” Zhongli slides a finger past Ajax’s open collar, over the mark on his collarbone, as if to spite the one on the back of his neck. “We will end things tomorrow.”

Ajax shivers at the touch, at the soft rush of energy through the contact, at the significance of that statement. They will end things tomorrow.

“Can you...do you want to...?” Stay like this? Ajax tightens his arms to convey the message. “Are you okay with this?”

Zhongli smiles a bit. His eyes are dim with exhaustion, but their flaxen glow is unwavering. “I want nothing more.”

Ajax reluctantly releases him to roll away and put out the lantern. When he returns, he pulls Zhongli’s arms around himself and shuffles back against him. He doesn’t know if he can look at him anymore, with all that’s been said.

Ajax might feel like crying again if he weren’t two seconds away from passing out. Zhongli draws him even closer and they settle together. He’s so warm around him—the source of his troubles also his greatest comfort.

As bittersweet as Ajax feels about keeping Zhongli bound to him, he cannot deny that there is an absolute rightness to the space they fill together.

It remains to be seen, after all, whether their union is a tragedy. Their fates are irrevocably intertwined, and Ajax can only hope that his existence doesn’t cause Zhongli more suffering in the end. That he can be worthy of this rightness he feels.

Ajax closes his eyes and tries to melt into pure feeling. He could choose to feel defeated at Zhongli’s story. At the news that Zhongli had such a close partner. At the insecurity that he could never compare. At the guilt of keeping Zhongli bound to him when if he had a choice, he would certainly choose a member of his own kind, a gentle, stable person who is not an ex-assassin, instead of Ajax.

But instead, miraculously, he feels triumphant at his own reaction. The one small choice to let go of his fears is empowering. It’s hopefully the first in a long line stretching out into their future, a newfound courage built to last, a will to find and share strength. It is with this thought that he drifts off to sleep in Zhongli’s arms.

And tomorrow, he will be free.

Chapter Text

Zhongli wakes just before dawn.

Cold light is beginning to peek through the cracks of the window shutters. The sounds of soft breathing fill the room, and Ajax is curled warm against him.

He lifts his head to see Rayyan passed out on a cot on the other side of the room. Good. They needed rest. Xiangling is also asleep on the cot next to them. The others must be standing guard or getting ready.

Zhongli should go back to sleep. He feels refreshed, but it’s probably not quite enough. There’s no point in continuing to work while Rayyan is asleep; he doubts he could crack the solution without them.

But though he knows he should and staying like this with Ajax lures him in like a siren, something compels him to get up. He slides free of their embrace with a kiss to his soulmate’s hair. Ajax doesn’t stir when he stands and Zhongli’s thankful; he needs just as much rest.

His heart clenches at the sight of Ajax so peacefully asleep. Those blue eyes filled with both light and tears closed. Twice now he’s had to watch him cry—once because of Zhongli—and all he wants is to bundle the human up somewhere safe, somewhere away from all of this, where he never has to feel that pain again.

Inevitably, it sweeps over Zhongli, harsh and biting, that fear that just won’t quit. No matter the allies at their side, no matter the sweet things Ajax says, no matter—

Zhongli swears under his breath and turns to leave. He just woke up and he already needs to clear his head.

On the way out, he passes Hu Tao, who looks exhausted but gives him a smile anyway. He sees her lie down for a sleeping shift before he exits the building.

Outside, the horizon is pale with the promise of dawn. The air is cool and everything is flecked with dew. Chongyun and Venti are standing guard near the fence where the wards’ boundary begins.

Zhongli opts to take a walk through the bamboo grove to a large rock that provides a sliver of a view of the orange and yellow fields beyond this valley. As the horizon fades from blue to pink, new light turns the mist over the fields to gold.

Qingce is where this chain of events started, though of course it was all set in motion years ago. The city is where Hu Tao and Zhongli performed the exorcism in which he used enough adeptal energy that the Fatui became curious. If he had been more careful, they would be safe at Wangsheng right now.

Zhongli has no regrets, however, because if he hadn’t been discovered, Ajax wouldn’t have been sent after him and he’d still be trapped in the Fatui’s employ. Their former life was a small price to pay for his soulmate’s freedom. He wishes Wangsheng hadn’t been lost as collateral damage, but Hu Tao is safe and seems happy enough with how things have ended up.

He has so many memories here in Qingce. The demons he fought and friends he made and civilization he helped grow. It was a small, peaceful village three-hundred years ago, and now it’s an unrecognizable city, the second largest in the country. The orange-yellow fields alone retain the spirit of the past. Though he can’t see from here, Zhongli knows that glaze lilies still dot the landscape.

He bows his head as conflicting feelings rise to fight for dominance within him. Memories of Guizhong and Azhdaha wait like invisible mines, ready to be triggered and flood him.

Yet again. When will he be able to escape?

So much of him clings to what could have been. Part of his heart undeniably belongs to the past, and the pain of trying to cut it out is overwhelming. It will take all his strength to move forward.

“Azhdaha.” A murmur of the name it hurts so terribly to say aloud. Zhongli closes his eyes against the sun rising over the mountains. “Forgive me for my weakness.”

But Azhdaha cannot forgive him. It is Zhongli who must forgive himself.

Morax was never dead, and pretending he was was a pathetic excuse to run from his guilt. No, Morax is not dead, and Zhongli must forgive himself for his failures. He must remember who he was and accept himself.

He can honor Azhdaha’s memory—the one he failed—by not failing Ajax now. By fighting for this greed-torn world and letting himself love again.

“I think you would want me to move on.” Zhongli sighs. “I know you would. And I’m ready, but....”

He’s terrified.

Zhongli can’t protect Ajax. He can’t protect Hu Tao or any of their friends. He can’t be a god again, and even if he could, near omnipotence is no guarantee of a happy future. This is something he has to live with, but he doesn’t know how.

He’s angry at his grief, fear, at his weakness. At the chains that keep him bound to the past.

Kept. Because he is ready, he reminds himself. No, the past couple days have not been easy, and facing the urge to flee from these feelings won’t be easy for some time.

Ajax knew, last night, when he pressed a finger to his lips. He knew he couldn’t say I love you back. A kindness.

He wanted to say it. Thus the anger at himself. Ajax deserves to hear more than eloquent, pretty platitudes. He deserves to hear those three words returned.

Zhongli tried his best to talk openly about his feelings. He was worried he would get lost in poetry and not be able to properly express himself, spin some beautiful sentences and miss the heart of the intended message. But something about his soulmate dragged those words out, to his own surprise.

In truth, everything is easier with Ajax. No one has been able to prompt such a rush of words from him in all his millennia of life, as expected of a soulmate.  It was a fruitless thing to resist, and despite his stubbornness, it has become easier and easier to express his feelings over the time they’ve spent together. Especially after he decided to embrace their relationship.

And yet, everything he said wasn’t enough. Once again, it is fear that keeps I love you from his lips.

Yes, Zhongli has Ajax’s patience. But for some reason, he doesn’t have his own. It feels like, even as he stands ready on the edge of salvation and Ajax offers an outstretched hand, he still cannot fully accept. Like something has left to give and Zhongli doesn’t know what it is.

These eight years since he awakened, it has taken everything he had to cling to the rock in the middle of the stream and fight its flow. And even now that he knows all he has to do is let go...his greedy fingers still grasp at what they’ve always known.

 It’s impossible to eliminate fear, he knows. There is no reward for being angry at himself. He has everything he needs—Ajax’s commitment and time.

So why...why does he still feel lost?

A presence approaching prods his eyes open to the sunlight streaming over the mountains. He turns to Venti striding through the sparkle of dew-laden grass to climb up the rock beside him.

“Morning,” his old friend says with a smile. “Did you get enough rest?”

Zhongli allows himself to smile back, despite the darkness heavy in his heart. “Probably.”

“I just woke up an hour ago myself.” Venti stretches and then leans against a rock. “You and your soulmate looked so peaceful.”

Zhongli feels his face warm and distracts himself by squinting into the sun, a growing glare that is now subsumed by pink clouds.

“So?” That familiar, teasing lilt returns. “You two are together now?”

He lets out a sigh, a freeing release. “Yes.”

“What was all that about never loving a human?”

Zhongli can’t bring himself to mind Venti’s tone. As upset as he is that his friend is putting himself in danger, he is equally happy to see him. As much a comfort as it is a source of stress.

“Even my stupidity has limits,” he says lightly.

Venti’s smile stretches like the flood of light through the valley, the ghost of a past long gone. 

For a moment, the two of them watch the sunrise. The things they have to discuss weigh heavy in the air, but Zhongli allows himself to enjoy the moment of silent companionship. Although nothing could ever be the same, there is a seed of the old days in the space they occupy together. If watered, perhaps it could grow into an imitation of their friendship of old, even through the harsh soil of this new world.

“I told him,” Zhongli says, after a soft minute stretches into two, “about Azhdaha. And he didn’t take it very well.”

“Oh?” Venti looks at him. “He was jealous?”

“No, worse. He felt guilty.” Zhongli gestures uselessly. “I was trying to tell him why it’s hard to move on. But he seemed to take it like....” He swallows. “Like I shouldn’t want him. Because he’s a human, because he’s imprisoned adepti. He didn’t believe me when I said it had nothing to do with him.”

The bard raises an eyebrow. “Well, you told him your husband was killed by people like him. How did you expect him to take it?”

Zhongli struggles with that for a second before shaking his head. “What was I supposed to do? Never tell him?”

“No, you did the right thing. I’m just saying it’s understandable. Anyone would feel guilty.”

“He—it’s entirely unrelated.” He can see the connection, but why should what a few members of his species did hundreds of years ago bother Ajax so much? Zhongli has told him time again that he doesn’t blame him. Ajax should see now, after hearing about the Tsaritsa’s plans to use him, that he really can’t be held responsible for any of it. “I thought he agreed with me that he’s a good person.”

Venti’s sympathetic frown takes on a wry twist. “Morax, you did tell me you could never love a human because of what they’ve done. The thought is inside you. Maybe he can see it.”

Zhongli looks away as his jaw clenches. He can’t deny he’s thought and said those things. But that was before he got to know Ajax. Before Ajax changed him. Can’t he see that too?

“Then what am I supposed to do?” he repeats. “I’ve told him over and over that I don’t care about his past.”

“If you’ve already told him, I don’t think you can convince him with words.” Venti’s tone turns gentle, still laced with a tease. “These things take time. Also, you can’t just tell someone they’re a good person. He has to figure that out himself.”

Zhongli attempts to resist scowling, but it proves impossible. 

Venti laughs at the expression. “You’ve always held yourself to a ridiculous standard. You can’t do everything perfectly, go easy on yourself.”

“Yes...I’m aware.”

Venti’s amusement only grows at that. After a few seconds of Zhongli staring stubbornly at the sun, he asks, “How did the conversation end?”

“He....” Told me he loves me. That he’ll stand by me and fight with me. After I made him cry. “He knows I need time, and he said I have his patience.”

“Then everything’s okay, isn’t it?” Venti steps closer, but Zhongli still won’t look at him. “You should just let things happen. Sometimes there’s nothing you can do.”

He sighs. Once again, Venti’s logic is insufferable. Zhongli is inclined to believe that there’s an answer to everything. That, as long as he tries, he can fix anything. There must be something he can do.

Letting things happen doesn’t come naturally to him. And—

Ah. He catches that thought before it digresses into its successor. This is just what Venti tried to lecture him about when they met before. Control. Trying to take hold of tangled threads that work themselves out through the flow of time.

As the other god said, Things happen how they happen, and we have no control in the end.

There is no guarantee Zhongli can protect those he loves. There is no guarantee he can find peace in this new world. There is no guarantee he can make Ajax happy. How, how is he supposed to accept that sometimes there is nothing he can do?

He knows the answer already, he always has. He must forgive himself for the past. Allow himself to fail in the future.

Let himself love without fear.

That is the path forward. The most agonizing path he could imagine.

Letting go. A full surrender. That thing that is so against his nature that he could only find it at a breaking point with the plunge of a sword through his chest. The hope found past bitter determination, when all was lost and he had nothing more to give. When all he could do was stop fighting.

We might lose. But you’re right, we make each other strong.

Death, loss, fear—these are inevitable. Ajax loves him, and shouldn’t that be enough?

A weak smile breaks through his stubbornness, the shatter of diamond. “You should know, I’m nearly done feeling sorry for myself.”

Venti gives a gentle, sarcastic gasp. “You? Really?”

“The world is changed.” He looks to the sunrise, to the strong, golden beams of that celestial body that has now overcome the clouds. “It’s time I find my place in it.”

“You mean...?” Venti’s voice loses its tease.

“I want to fight.” Zhongli meets his gaze. “The age of gods is over, but I may have some strength left to give.”

Those green-blue eyes glimmer like the dew. “You found your hope?”

“I did.” He found a chance for salvation, in strength freely offered, in the hard path ahead. “You’re right, everything is okay. And I’m...almost there.”

He doesn’t know how to let go, but he is ready to try.

Venti’s smile is bright. “If we don’t die today, old friend, I would be honored to take up arms with you again.”

“I would as well.” Zhongli returns the smile.

For once, the god of freedom doesn’t make a joke. And for a moment, they simply share a smile and the promise of a tomorrow that will come in spite of yesterday.

“I have...learned a lot since we last saw each other.” Zhongli reluctantly brings up the important topic that will dampen the mood. “About the archons.”

Venti nods and his smile wavers. “Hu Tao told me you had news. It’s about Barnabas, isn’t it? She’s leading the Fatui?”

“How—?”

“If any one of us were going to fall victim to the new world order, it would be her,” he sighs. “We all stood for something, and we all fell because of it. I wanted my people to have freedom, so I gave them too much of it. You wanted your people to be prosperous, and it made them greedy. Barnabas loved so deeply that the person she used to be couldn’t survive a broken heart. Or am I wrong?”

“No, that’s...exactly right.” From what Barnabas told him, Focalors’ obsession with justice turned her people against her. Ei’s strive towards permanence led to her undoing. Zhongli didn’t realize that material wealth could corrupt more than it could save. Even the near-omnipotent guardians of the world fell to their own vices.

“You spoke with her?” Venti asks, searching his gaze. “Hu Tao told me about your escape. What did she say?”

“She lost as many people as we did back then.” Zhongli recalls their conversation, that desperate moment in the office, the cracks in Barnabas’ façade. “I think she thinks that if the whole world belongs to her, she can never lose anyone again. If everyone is her subject, if everyone loves her, they won’t betray her. She joined the enemy so her heart won’t be broken again.”

Loss drove Zhongli into hibernation, into nihilism. It seems to have driven Barnabas into merciless conquest.

“Is she past saving?”

Zhongli’s first instinct is to bristle at Venti’s question. “Whatever her motivations, she profited from our friends’ deaths. She imprisoned and tortured my children. She used my soulmate as bait against me. I don’t—”

Then he remembers what Ajax said about the Harbingers yesterday. How they may once have been good people, twisted by circumstance. As much as I hate the idea of treating them with kindness, I don’t think returning hurt with hurt will end well.

Morax used to know right from wrong. He used to lay down justice with no room for argument. But black and white have smeared to doubt and this new world is filled with grey.

Barnabas thinks she can mitigate loss with control. Who knows if Morax may have turned out the same in different circumstances? After all his recent revelations, he can see that same urge within him—to cling to something so tightly that it breaks.

Zhongli’s rage at her and her servants still smoulders deep within, waiting to be reawakened. But his fury isn’t what got them out of that office, it isn’t what saved them. It was his belief in his bond with Ajax. He won when he stopped meeting force with force and trusted in Ajax’s love.

Is she past saving? Should he want to save her? If Ajax can treat his abusers with kindness, perhaps Zhongli can as well.

So he sighs. “I don’t know. She seems intent on devouring everything to make up for what she’s lost. Even at the cost of our lives.”

Venti nods, eyes faraway beyond the sunrise. “It’s a funny thing, this world. We fought for thousands of years, made peace for thousands of years, lost everything we’d built, and now....”

Now we have to do it all again, Zhongli finishes. One would think, that after thousands of years, he’d be used to the cycle of loss. But before three-hundred years ago, nothing felt so catastrophic. History had moved in an ever-positive direction until the series of events that nearly destroyed him.

Events that, up until a few months ago, he thought had beaten him permanently.

Now he is left to rise from the ashes of everything he loved and find new purpose in those that help him pick up the pieces.

“I’m still a nihilist, you know,” Venti says. “But there’s something about having a weapon in your hand, the wind at your back, and a friend by your side....”

“That makes you want to fight?”

“That gives you hope.” Venti’s smile returns like a spring breeze, a hint of warmth against winter’s storm. “Let’s start by surviving today, hm? One day at a time.”

Today. Zhongli nods in agreement. Today, they will free his soulmate. Today, they will find a way out of the darkness together.

“And now that the great Morax is ready to fight, there’s nothing that can stand in our way, eh?” Venti grins.

Zhongli smiles back at him, and for a weightless, bittersweet moment, the two gods watch the sun complete its rise before turning to face the day.

***

“Hey, curse breakers!” Hu Tao pokes her head through the door. “Lunch!”

Zhongli, Ajax, and Rayyan’s heads jolt up with simultaneous dagger-glares at her interruption.

She pouts. “What?”

Rayyan brandishes the paper sitting between them with a frenzied gleam in their eyes. “We’re one variable away, that’s what!”

“You’re that close?” She starts to smile but—

“Yes! So stop interrupting!”

Hu Tao looks amused but scurries away at the student’s uncharacteristically harsh tone. She throws “Come eat when you’re done!” over her shoulder before shutting the door.

Rayyan sighs and pinches the bridge of their nose. “Where were we?”

“The Pursina Paradox.” Zhongli leans back in his seat and crosses his arms. “We just need one adjustment to balance it.”

After Ajax and Rayyan woke up, the three of them sat down with the machine again. A mind-numbing four hours later, they’ve nearly worked out the complete spell.

Ajax picks up the notes and frowns at them. The bags under his eyes are concerning, making Zhongli wonder if he meant it when he said he got enough sleep earlier.

After they had breakfast, Zhongli had pulled him aside to a corner away from everyone’s eyes and wrapped him in a tight embrace.

“Zhongli?” Ajax asked, quiet.

“How are you feeling?” Zhongli pulled back to search his eyes. “Did you get enough rest?”

“Yeah, I feel good.” Ajax gave a small smile, tugged by fragility. In contrast to his words, his face told a different story, one of exhaustion. “Did you?”

Zhongli nodded. “I should have enough energy to perform the spells.” He cupped Ajax’s face, soothed the bags under his eyes with his thumbs, and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead.

He can do all this and more now. Because Ajax loves him. Because Ajax is his. And everything is okay.

“I really am fine.” Stronger light struck Ajax’s eyes, a small dawn of its own. Gods, Zhongli loved being the one to make that happen. “You don’t have to—”

“I want to.” He kissed him again, his soulmate, his treasure, the one with the power to destroy him as he’s been destroyed before. 

Sometimes there’s nothing you can do. Zhongli could do this at least, let Ajax feel his affection physically.

Ajax closed his eyes and hummed. For a moment, he seemed to bask in the fingers soothing his face. Then he said, “Are you still scared?”

“Of course.” Zhongli fought the waver in his voice to no avail. “But I’ll be okay.”

Ajax nodded, met his eyes again. “We’ll be okay.”

It’s almost like a promise they tell each other. But neither of them is willing to say it’s a promise because they aren’t oathbreakers and some promises aren’t meant to last. A reassurance in good faith but not in ignorance.

Ajax kissed him on the lips, soft and quick, before pulling him back towards the others. “Let’s get to work.”

Now, as they sit on the edge of a breakthrough, Ajax closes those weary blue eyes to think.

“I feel like...there’s something about the energy flow that I can....” Ajax describing how he feels, like now, has been very useful data when they can’t risk experimenting. “I think the spell will work how it is now, if I focus on relaxing and shifting my energy. From what you’ve said, we have to get the calculations precisely correct, but there’s a degree to which I can...adjust my own energy? I can try to fit what we have now.”

Rayyan frowns. “You can adjust your energy?”

“It’s like when we meditate.” Ajax glances at Zhongli. “We’re always sharing energy, and I’m always adjusting. I can just adjust to the frequency we need now.”

“But you can control it consciously? To this precise degree?”

He lets out a long breath. “I know the curse better than anyone, I’ve lived with its energy for so long, it’s instinctual. So, yeah, I think I can.”

Zhongli doesn’t like the idea very much—one wrong move and Ajax could hurt himself—but it makes sense. With all their practice, it’s not out of the question.

“Are you sure?” he asks quietly.

Despite the bags under his eyes, their blue is dark and serious. A determined look that Zhongli has seen before. “I can do it.”

Like that day in Mondstadt, when the automatons were bearing down on them and Ajax asked Zhongli to trust him. If there is a fight to be had, Ajax will give his all. His eyes sparkled that day, with ferocity, determination, the kind of light brought forth by his will to protect.

Zhongli trusts him now, unquestionably.

“Alright.” He nods. “It seems we have our solution.”

Rayyan also concedes and they all spend a few minutes hammering out the details. The former student makes sure Ajax knows exactly what to do when Zhongli begins the spell. It hits them, once the ideas tumble into a conclusion. They did it.

For a moment, the three of them stare at the piece of paper with their handiwork. Then a triumphant smile breaks over Rayyan’s face.

“I can’t believe this,” they laugh. “We actually did it. I mean, it wouldn’t be possible without the machine. The Fatui handed us the technology to undo their own work. But just the research to figure out this spell would win awards if it were published.”

“It’s not too late to go back to the Akademiya and make it big,” Ajax teases.

Their smile twists. “It would be passed around and praised by the brightest minds and then be left to collect dust in the Akademiya’s archives. Forget that. This research is only valuable to me because it’s saving lives.”

“Rayyan, we truly cannot thank you enough,” Zhongli says. “This also wouldn’t be possible without you.”

They shrug, blushing a bit. “It feels great to make a difference. And you’re the one who’s going to be doing the heavy lifting. Do you have enough energy?”

It’s Zhongli’s turn to breathe deeply. The qi that used to run through this fertile land like a vein waiting to be tapped has been all but stripped. But he rested enough last night to absorb all the latent drops he could. “Yes, I do.”

“I should probably practice if there’s time,” Ajax says. “Let’s tell the others we’re almost ready and then set everything up?”

Outside, the sun is high in a now-cloudless sky and there is a hint of a cool breeze in the sweet summer air. Xiangling has set up a cook pot in the courtyard. It fills the area with the smell of fire and food, accompanied by soft chatting and laughter as everyone breaks for lunch.

They’re all accounted for, sitting around the fire, except for Diluc and Beidou who stand guard at the perimeter. Venti has procured a small, stringed instrument from gods-know-where, and he is strumming it while singing lowly.

Zhongli recognizes the tune as an old Mondstadtian drinking song from centuries ago. It’s from the perspective of two soldiers going off to war as they make a pact to care for each other’s families should one of them not survive. So take this drink and take my hand. For we may ne’er meet again. A melancholic song appropriate for the occasion, with an ironically uplifting melody.

“Have you all decided to come eat?” Hu Tao smirks from where she’s sprawled on the ground. “Xiangling made hot pot.”

Zhongli takes a second to look at them all. At their smiling faces in the sunlight. At the crackle of the fire and Venti’s soft strumming. At the peace they’ve created even in the face of imminent danger.

And as fear rears its head, dark and poisonous, at the sight of everything he could lose, for just a moment he lets it be. We might lose. But you’re right, we make each other strong.

True accomplishment includes someone to come home to. Someone to share it with. So Zhongli glances at Ajax, who’s smiling, and takes his hand. Then he looks back at everyone. “No, we’ve come to say we’re finished.”

Their reaction is a gratifying cheer of celebration. Hu Tao sits up and claps her hands together, eyes shining. “That’s amazing, Li-Li!”

“We can celebrate when it’s all over and we’ve moved somewhere safe.” Zhongli smiles as he talks over the exclamations of everyone else. “Right now, we’re going to go—”

His words and smile are cut short at the sight of Kazuha jumping to his feet. The Inazuman’s eyes zero in on the perimeter, a hand on his sword.

“Apologies but I....” he begins in a low voice. “I can smell....”

They all turn to where he’s looking, past where Beidou and Diluc stand guard.

Zhongli can’t see anything. When he focuses past Ajax’s aura—once again thankful for their practice—he senses the trail of a dark, sinister energy signature curling through the air from beyond the bamboo grove.

“Someone’s coming,” Kazuha says. “An enemy.” 

He immediately jogs off towards the two on guard.

“Stay back,” Zhongli commands the teenagers and Rayyan. Hu Tao nods, face gone pale. Then to Venti, “Watch them.”

Venti also nods and sets down his instrument as everyone takes a defensive posture. Zhongli and Ajax exchange glances before following Kazuha. 

The enemy is here at last. The fear that Zhongli let be rises once again like a wave to wash his grounding away. But there is no time to panic, no time to let it settle.

They join the pirate and the vigilante staring into the thicket of bamboo.

“I sense a malicious presence,” Kazuha mutters.

“It’s headed this way.” Diluc draws a pistol, eyes narrowed.

“It’s him,” Ajax says as soon as they catch up at the wards’ edge. “Scaramouche.”

Of course. Rumblings of fury undercut the fear. Blood roars in Zhongli’s ears. The man who murdered his friend, tortured his children, and tormented his soulmate is approaching. The last time Zhongli saw him, he wanted to tear him apart for hurting Ajax. That mocking voice, that sneer. Your Majesty. I’d love the honor of dealing with you myself.

But Ajax advocated restraint, and in light of his conversation with Venti this morning, Zhongli will follow his lead.

“A Harbinger?” Diluc asks, voice hard.

Ajax nods. “The sixth.”

“Then we’ve got our work cut out for us.” Diluc says grimly before cocking his gun. “I’ve always wanted to kill a Harbinger.”

“The wards should keep him busy for a while,” Ajax says, expression cool though Zhongli can feel his panic. “I’m not surprised it took him so long to find us. Our auras are masked well.”

“But it won’t distract him forever.” Beidou also readies her gun. “You two go,” she says to Zhongli and Ajax. “We’ll hold him off until you break the curse.”

“Shouldn’t we—”

“This is the fastest way,” she cuts Ajax off. “Get rid of your tracker, and we can all get out of here, hopefully without a fight.”

“And if there is a fight?” Zhongli asks, voice low.

Beidou smiles, that same determined sparkle in her pomegranate eye. The look of a battle-hardened rebel, the spirit of a storm that will not be brought to heel.

“Then we fight,” she says.

Zhongli glances at Ajax, who swallows and nods, then back at the others. Kazuha and Diluc wear the same look, sword and gun ready. In all their eyes burns a hope undying in spite of all that tries to stifle it.

After a moment’s hesitation, Zhongli also nods. “Be careful.”

“Go.” Beidou’s smile is lit with grim optimism. “We got this.”

The two soulmates jog back towards the buildings. The sinister energy grows as they turn their backs. As Ajax said, Scaramouche must know their approximate location, but hopefully the wards they’ve set up can keep them hidden long enough for them to break the curse and escape. The humans have a number of magically reinforced guns and swords, as well as a couple offensive artifacts, but if it comes to a fight, will it be enough?

“Scaramouche is coming,” Ajax tells the others at the fire. “We’re going to break the curse and get everyone out of here. Get ready for a fight, just in case.”

Rayyan and Ajax start towards the machine, but Zhongli pauses. “The children,” he says to Venti. “Don’t let them get hurt.”

“I won’t.” His fellow god nods seriously, already in a defensive position. “Good luck.”

Zhongli casts a last glance at Hu Tao who is standing ready with a staff imbued with adeptal energy. They’ve been in countless fights together over the years, but never has she been in more danger. The very thing he feared most from the beginning come to pass.

But his sister just smiles. Not in her usual cheeky, cocky way. She smiles in the way of someone who’s had to grow up too fast time and time again yet never let it break her. Someone who knows death and has the courage to smile in the face of it.

A smile to soothe his fear. She’ll be alright.

When Zhongli enters the room, Rayyan is already at the machine, powering it up. Thankfully, they seem steady under pressure, if not rambly.

“I’ve got the components ready.” They flip a switch and adjust the panels. “You two get in there. Zhongli, it’s all down to you—”

“I know.” They’ve gone over the procedure repeatedly while they worked out the details. It would’ve been better if they could get everything ready before, if Ajax could practice adjusting his energy, but that’s not an option anymore.

“I can’t do anything out here besides watch over you. The actual magic will be down to you.” Rayyan looks at him hard. “I can’t even support you in the exorcism, so—”

“I know,” Zhongli assures them. “I’m ready.”

“And Ajax.” They turn to the human. “You have to relax. Don’t worry about us. If your focus is off by even—”

“It’s okay,” he says. “I know what I’m doing.”

Rayyan glances between the two of them. Then, despite the pressure, a small, tense smile flashes across their face. “Alright, let’s do this.”

Ajax steps into the machine and settles against the frame. Zhongli grips his hand one last time. “I’ll join you in a second.”

Ajax holds his gaze for a moment that stretches into a thundering, soaring, vertiginous realization. The curse is about to be broken. Or we’ll make a mistake and damage Ajax’s soul. Or Scaramouche will kill us all. Equal fear and hope collide in those blue eyes, a war of seen and unseen forces, as the two soulmates dangle on this precipice. The dawn of their future or the end of it all.

Through the chaos of these things they feel together, the determination in Ajax’s tired eyes never wavers. The brightest star in darkest night. The only hope that Zhongli needs.

“See you there,” he replies.

Zhongli nods, releases his hand, and steps back.

And Rayyan flips the switch.

Chapter Text

為者敗之.

執者失之故物或行或隨.

Zhongli doesn’t know what he was expecting upon entering the gateway to Ajax’s soul this time. There is the feeling of his energy all around, the warm, comforting caress of water that Zhongli has become intimately familiar with. The ocean that is his soul, calm surface and churning depths.

Then Zhongli finds himself in a large, unfamiliar room. The freezing chill of a basement sinks into his skin at the sight of concrete walls, floor, ceiling and large pipes run over it. It’s lit by harsh electrical lighting, and the smell of chemicals lingers unsettlingly in the air. Sterilized laboratory equipment and strange machines fill the cluttered space.

All this hits him like a punch to the gut. But the details leave his mind when he sees Ajax lying on a laboratory table in the middle of the room. A strong light almost makes an spotlight above him, and his arms and legs are in restraints attached to the table. His eyes are squeezed shut, jaw clenched as his head jerks back and forth.

“Ajax!” Zhongli is at his side in an instant and pops the metal cuffs.

He sits up with a gasp, eyes wide and dazed. “Zhongli, this—” He jumps off the table like it’s going to bite him and pulls Zhongli away from it.

“Is this where they...?” Experimented on you?

Ajax’s wild expression calms as he looks around. He nods and grips Zhongli’s arm tight enough to hurt. “I...I don’t know why....”

Zhongli runs a soothing hand over Ajax’s back. “It’s not real. We’re in your mind.”

“I know that.” Ajax swallows, gaze locked on the table. “The curse...I–I think it can sense what we’re about to do.”

Zhongli follows his gaze to the tendrils of mist running along the floor and climbing the table legs, reaching and curling over the table’s surface. A soft hissing emanates from it.

“Let’s—” He looks back to see Ajax’s face gone pale, eyes lost. 

The lights flicker as Ajax trembles, a flash of revolving shadows across the room, and the temperature drops even lower, the cold of the one who tormented him on his soul.

Is he having flashbacks again? Last time, they seemed to haunt him, distract him until Zhongli brought him back. “Ajax, we need to focus.”

Abruptly, a piercing sound comes from somewhere down a hallway. A cry. A chilling, echoing cry. Someone in pain.

Ajax’s eyes flash with panic. 

“A—”

But the room has shifted. The lab table with its restraints remains at their backs, but now they’re in a long room lined with windowless cell doors. The cry echoes again from down the cell block, raspy this time, choked, and Zhongli recognizes the voice.

No. No, no. “Ajax,” he starts, desperate, “it’s trying to fight back. It’s trying to distract you. It’s not real.”

Ajax is frozen, face twisted in despair, in the freezing grip of the chains of his own memory. What is he seeing?

“Our friends are in danger,” Zhongli grits out as the cry echoes again. “We have to break the curse. Get us to someplace we can focus.”

But his soulmate starts to drifts towards the cell it came from.

“Ajax!” Zhongli grabs him, wheels him around. “Look at me, it’s not real. Take us to....” Where? Anywhere except the basement of Fatui HQ, where Ajax’s past seeks to derail and destroy them. Where have they had happy memories? “Remember the treehouse in Apam Woods? Remember when we failed to boil noodles? I said I forgive you.” Zhongli struggles to soften his voice. I forgive you for everything, for hurting my children, why can you still not accept it? “Remember?”

Ajax’s eyes are glued to the end of the cell block. He trembles, unhearing. Whatever memories are confronting him, their hold is stronger than last time.

“The night in the desert,” Zhongli tries again, “do you remember that? We ran for miles and then slept in the sand. That’s when I started to realize my feelings for you, actually. Do you remember how cold it was? Take us there.”

Ajax doesn’t respond, but his face contracts, fighting, caught in half awareness. The mist is snapping at their ankles, and Ajax needs to focus or they can’t do the spell.

“Or Fontaine, when we escaped? You kissed me and I knew that I wanted to tell you everything, wanted to be with you. The sky was so beautiful after we outran the storm. Remember the stars? That was when you first confessed, I don’t know if you remember, but I—”

The shift is violent this time. A nauseating whirl cracks the world around them. The cells crumble to dust as the ceiling breaks open and scatters in chunks of concrete. As the walls fall away, they are left on a slab of concrete with the lab table behind them, but stretching from the ragged concrete edges to the horizon is a field of heather and wildflowers.

 It’s a strange twin of Zhongli’s real memory of that field in Fontaine. In Ajax’s tangled recreation, everything is heightened, almost psychedelic.

The night sky is the color of dusk, a smoky purple at its apex down to soft blues and golds near the horizon. There is light on all sides, as if the sun is rising from every direction. The details of the shapes of the mountains and trees are blurred when Zhongli tries to look, silhouettes in the golden glow.

The sky is paradoxically light and dark at the same time, blue and purple alongside pale pink, an optical illusion decorated by a sea of stars and the slice of a galaxy. Constellations are impossible to make out by the sheer density of stars. Starlight soaks the fields, a prismatic illumination of the wildflowers swaying gently around them.

“Oh,” Ajax says. Zhongli follows his gaze to see the most bizarre sight—a solar eclipse. A circular black void ringed by light. The crowning jewel in this strange, star-drenched sky.

“This isn’t real,” Ajax laughs weakly. The terror in his eyes is eased as he seems to settle into his surroundings.

“Is this how you remember it?” Zhongli frowns, dizzy from the shift.

Last time they delved into the mindscape, the fantastical elements of Ajax’s memory were an oppressive storm and the haunting chill of a lost childhood. But from where in his mind did he conjure this landscape?

“No.” Ajax has come back into himself as he looks around. “I don’t really remember that day at all. But I thought, if the world is impossible, then it can’t be real. Keeps me grounded.”

“Good idea, but....” Zhongli looks to the lab table behind them, an unmoved fixture of the concrete slab they stand on. The hissing, the curl of mist dancing around it. “It’s still here.”

“Yeah, I just can’t shake it.” Ajax grimaces.

“Are you ready?” He searches his eyes, worried. “Can we begin?”

His soulmate takes a deep breath, a fragile, fluttering thing. “Yeah, I think so.”

“The curse will fight us,” Zhongli says. “When I begin the spell, focus your energy towards it. Match the frequency I’m producing.”

Ajax nods. “I know.” When Zhongli pauses in concern, a small smile blossoms on his face to battle his tired eyes. “I’ll be okay. Focus on your own part. You can draw on my strength, too, if you need it.”

Zhongli nods, then takes his hand and a moment to just hold it. They settle their energies together, against the dizziness of the mindscape, against the biting influence of the curse and Ajax’s memories. Like the meditation they’ve done so many times, soaking in each other’s energies, the frequency they’re naturally attuned to.

They face the table, which seems to shudder in cold heat waves, threatened and ready to retaliate. Its metal gleams, dark in the strange light.

Zhongli closes his eyes. They’ve gone over the spell so many times that he knows exactly what to do. Here, with Ajax’s soul open, exposed like a nerve, it’s second nature to tap in and construct the spell.

He could get lost in the myriad of energies amongst the three of them. The depth and intensity of Ajax’s soul, the turbulence and calm, a vast azure ocean threaded with beams of light and dark currents. The permeating poison that is the curse, a parasite latched on with vicious teeth, a cloud of daggers that seek to sink into Zhongli’s skin and burn him.

His own soul is here as well. The three of them, together, connected, energies intertwined. The curse in its imitation of a soulmate bond, in its greedy claim, in a vie for dominance. And their own, true bond that surpasses distance and time. A cosmic accident or destiny seeded at the birth of the world—either way, inexorable. Irrevocable.

Unlike two souls bound together, the curse will fall away like a parasite to be exterminated when they unbind it. But it is, admittedly, a similar structure. The same concept. This was the breakthrough they needed, and it is their solution now. Treat the curse’s grip on Ajax’s soul like a soulmate bond and—

Zhongli freezes in his preparation.

Like two souls bonded. Bound.

Deresonate.

Inexorable. Irrevocable. It must be. Surely we couldn’t—

Zhongli turns his attention to his own energy. Dragged forward by stray curiosity, he tests adjusting it to the necessary frequency for the spell and—

His eyes open with a jolt.

“Zhongli?” Ajax is watching him. “Are you going to start the spell?”

“We could undo our bond with this spell,” he mutters under his breath. An afterthought, a slip of the tongue, a—

A hand is ripped out of his. Ajax steps away, turns to look him in the eyes. “What do you mean?”

No. No, no, no. An accident, a thought he should have buried instantly, a thought that should never have occurred to him at all. And Zhongli curses himself because—

Ajax’s face, that beautiful face, is now twisted in an emotion that he could never hide in this intimate mindspace. Hurt. 

“Never mind.” Zhongli reaches for his hand, but Ajax is too far, a revolution thrown off course when they were meant to collide.

“You mean we could use the same spell to untangle our souls?” Ajax asks quietly. Those blue eyes were alight in the sparkling glow of the sky and its unending eclipse but now they fall dark by the second. No, no—

“I...yes, but—” Zhongli stumbles, dizzy in the rush. “Just forget it.”

Too late. The damage of a stray thought is already done. It’s not a leap—the realization that if they refocus their energies while his soul is open in the machine with the same spell, their bond could be undone.

“Let’s get back to work,” Zhongli says, desperation dawning. “Let’s focus on—”

“That’s the right thing to do, isn’t it?” Quiet, intense, Ajax’s voice is as devastating as the darkness burgeoning in his gaze. “It’s safer that way. It’d be more convenient for everyone, right? We could go into hiding separately. We wouldn’t be afraid of something happening to one of us. We’ve already seen how our bond can hurt us.”

Zhongli just stares. Stares at those blue eyes, pools of dark starlight, fractured in the beginnings of heartbreak. What...is he saying?

Ajax steps back towards him and his face softens in a smile that walks willingly to its end. “Thank you for everything.” A valiant smile. A useless smile. “You saved me in more than one way. I’m so grateful for the time we’ve had together, but that makes sense, doesn’t it?”

What is this? A goodbye from those lips that kissed him so eagerly, that said I love you so openly? Zhongli’s exact words to Hu Tao, tossed back in his face. You saved me. When he went to sacrifice himself, when he knew it was all he could do. When death was the only choice he had to make. A sacrificial goodbye.

“Ajax,” he begins with difficulty, tripping over his traitorous tongue, that fool. He didn’t mean— “You–you just told me you love me. You told me you’ll stand by me.”

A sacrificial goodbye and a sacrificial smile. A weak attempt at nobility.

“That was when we didn’t have a choice,” says the same voice that told Zhongli that he had him, he was his. “We could actually have one now.”

A choice? Zhongli can do nothing but stare at his miracle, his treasure, his hope and the inane, stupid gesture in his words.

Ajax doesn’t want this. He’s trying to be kind. What an utterly—

“Are you...trying to offer me an out?” Zhongli swallows.

“Do you want to take it?”

This human. It’s anger that tickles the back of his throat now, anger at himself for allowing this to happen, anger at his soulmate for trying to be selfless at a time like this.

But is he being selfless? Or has Zhongli failed him enough that he still has doubts? Are the rocky start of their relationship and the story of his dead husband too big of obstacles to overcome even as Ajax says he’s ready to face everything together?

So Zhongli asks. “Are you trying to be selfless or do you still doubt me?”

An insensitive question perhaps, but Ajax has found a way to strike at his heart. He’s just as hurt by the suggestion that he would want to let Ajax go, why not show it?

“I don’t doubt your feelings.” That beautiful smile remains, haunted by broken eyes. “But you never wanted this in the first place. It’s only caused us pain, really.”

Venti was right, and Zhongli should have known. The thought is inside you. Maybe he can see it. 

All his words were useless, his eloquent speeches that contained everything but the confession itself. His sacrifice of going to rescue him, too, because Ajax seems to still think that he could only love him because of the bond.

You never wanted this in the first place. A cheap shot, as much as it’s true.

“If one of us dies...if I die, you’ll have to grieve again, and it’ll be worse because of our bond.” Ajax moves closer, skin and hair glowing in the strange light, a ripple of the air, the illusion of heat in the space between them. “I don’t want to hurt you anymore.”

Oh, so that’s it. It’s not that Ajax doubts that Zhongli wants him; he thinks that he shouldn’t. He thinks that he is a source of pain, instead of the very opposite truth that—

“We have a choice now,” Ajax says. “If that’s what you want, I’m okay with it.”

Lies.

“Ajax.” Zhongli attempts to calm his voice as arguments fly to his lips. “What makes you think I would want that? You don’t want that.”

“Just—” Ajax is close, so achingly close, and yet there seems to be an entire sky between them. The barrier that refuses to die. “I’m just saying, take a second to think about it. You don’t have to be bound to me forever.”

Zhongli stares at him as he falls apart. Frozen in this strange space, this timeless moment, the dizzy torrent of energies and swirl of stars above.

A choice.

Free will.

His free will had died a bitter death and he had accepted that. And now the one who robbed him of it offers it up again with himself as the catalytic sacrifice.

Zhongli wants to laugh as his thoughts tumble, deranged. The free will he was so obsessed with. The control. The desperate yearning within him to run and hide from fear.

Ignoring everything else that stands between them and happiness, in the end, Ajax’s central argument is perfectly correct; he is a source of pain. 

He always will be because Zhongli loves him. Of course he does. He will welcome that truth with open arms. Ajax believes in him when he gives him no reason to. He challenges him to face his prejudices. He finds hope in places Zhongli never looked before, compels him with empathy, with understanding like no one else.

Yes, Zhongli loves Ajax, and as long as love exists, so does loss. To love is to share ownership, to make something other a part of one’s own identity. To love is to be made unwhole upon separation. To have a soulmate is to know that one will die two deaths.