A white plume of breath travels through the frosty air, any remaining traces of the hazy vapor slowly fading away as the seconds pass by.
A definitive sign of life amidst the barren expanse of land.
Merely a short distance away, Kaeya propels himself upwards, reinvigorated from the short rest he had taken. Brushing the snow off of the cuffs of his jacket, he makes his way toward the series of abandoned buildings, only to discover that the entrances had been completely locked, any attempt at brute-forcing the entrance with massive summoned shards of cryo failing spectacularly.
So Kaeya did what he did best.
Find a workaround.
Teleporting inside, he briefly explored the interior of the building, finding that its superficial appearance had betrayed the surprise it had hidden within. Despite the worn surface, as seen through the crumbling bricks and the decaying structural integrity, suggesting that it had been ages since anybody had stepped foot into the region, the number of supplies and quality of the furniture scattered in the various rooms indicated that some forces had occupied the area relatively recently.
The first supply that drew Kaeya's attention almost immediately was bottled cups filled to the brim with water, stacked precariously on top of each other. Although it had only been hours since Kaeya began his journey, the dry air of the tundra had rendered him thirsty, causing him to grab one of the containers and swallow its contents, the possibility of drinking something so refreshing overpowering all of his concerns.
Moments later, he found out the water had been quite stale, slightly gagging as an unpleasant taste lingered in the back of his mouth.
He knew that it was a foolish decision, but considering that the only source of water nearby was the nearly-frozen river, which would be frankly disgusting all things considered, it was the more pleasant alternative.
There was the possibility of melting summoned ice over a makeshift fire, but with the cold weather of the tundra and snow drifting from the heavens toward the ground, it would be nearly impossible to sustain one.
Even if he had collected an adequate supply of timber to serve as fuel for the burgeoning flames, the process of cutting small branches off of the nearby birch trees and dragging them toward an adequately-sheltered place would have further exhausted Kaeya, who didn't have much more stamina after making the perilous journey.
Seemingly wiping away a little droplet of water near the corner of his lip with his right hand, Kaeya lets out a little sigh. Turning around, he examines the pile of supplies occupying the corner of the room, taking stock of any important materials left behind.
Food, some metallic weapons, and documents strewn around messily in a pile characterized the rest of the goods were all Kaeya could find.
Compared with the water, Kaeya didn't dare to touch the food, the lack of any information signifying the expiration date discouraging him from consuming it despite the steady pang of hunger emanating from near his stomach. It hadn't helped that the food was perishable, a slight tinge of something white upon its surface and the thought of consuming spoiled goods causing revulsion to rise within him.
Now the documents were far more interesting. Although Kaeya couldn't read the tiny font on the pages very clearly as the shadows lengthened and light withdrew in the late hours, he could still make sense of smaller portions of the text. Surprisingly, whatever was scribbled on the page was comprehensible to Kaeya, the script and meaning of the words eerily similar to Snezhnayan.
But that's where the similarities ended. While the Fatui insignia of a four-pointed shape similar to a star surrounded by an equal number of scythe-like figures arranged between the gaps were attached to official Snezhnayan documents, a one-winged, bird-like creature reflected upon itself occupied the corner of the page.
Staring at the symbol, Kaeya feels both fear and thrill run through him, the sensations sending a shiver running through him. Whatever these documents were, their contents had solidified his suspicions that wherever he had ended up, it wasn't in Snezhnaya or any region in Teyvat,
Hell, Kaeya wasn't even sure whether he had ended up in lands past the Seven Nations' borders, let alone the same world.
Letting out a sigh, Kaeya shifts the record away from him, getting up from the crouched position he had assumed. Promising himself that he would take a deeper look into these documents, he walks out of the small room hosting the supplies, finding a small corridor leading down an unexplored hallway
Despite thoughts regarding today's events running through Kaeya's mind, begging him to contemplate the implications of whatever he had stumbled upon, he disregards them, instead electing to find any surface other than the cold floor on which he could sleep upon.
Exhaustion from his long journey had already taken a heavy toll upon him, evidently seen through his demeanor and the way had begun to drag his feet on the hard floor. At some point, Kaeya finally stumbled upon a room near the end of the corridor, finding it occupied by a wooden desk and, more relievingly, a bed. The room was seemingly an officer's quarters, judging from the solitary medal hanging from the wall and an intricate wooden nameplate hammered near the entrance.
But that didn't matter to Kaeya at the moment.
Sinking relievedly into the bed, he closes his eyes, willing himself to sleep, the thoughts dispelled in anticipation of the unpredictable dreams of the night.
When Kaeya wakes up, the first thing he's greeted by is a steady drip of water from above him, the freezing liquid beginning to be absorbed by his uniform.
Cursing at the uncomfortable feeling beginning to spread across his upper body, he moves toward the right, only to tumble off the edge of the bed and hit the floor with a thud.
Winded from the impact, it took some time for Kaeya to finally register what had happened before groaning in annoyance and pushing himself upwards. Despite the action intensifying the painful sensation of the wounds inflicted upon him merely a day ago, he manages to push through the action, blinking in an attempt to dismiss his bleary eyes.
Only once he becomes assured that his vision has been restored back to normal does he look up, peering at the origin of the unpleasant wake-up call, a small crack amidst the ceiling.
Wait, a crack? Had it always been there?
When the implications of the room's poor structural integrity finally hit him, Kaeya only manages to let out a small yelp, scrambling towards the door in an attempt to get out. Only when he makes it past the entrance does he attempt to catch his breath, trying to make sense of everything that happened. The memories of the previous night flash through his mind, his mind finally beginning to process them as adrenaline surges through his veins.
The hellish conditions of the tundra, the unknown series of buildings he had stumbled upon, and the mysterious documents he found scattered in a room.
Having come back to his senses, Kaeya allows his mind to wander, his thoughts lingering upon the subject of the strange vision he had been subjected to yesterday. Unsurprisingly, the eerie dream still fresh on his mind that he had witnessed merely less than a day ago had not reappeared, his imagination churning out the nightmares he had experienced over the years.
Tonight, it had been the variation of the day where he had clashed with Diluc after Crepus' death, this time culminating in not one, but rather both of his eyes being partially blinded by the powerful swing of Diluc's claymore.
Wincing involuntarily at the thought of a sharp blade cutting through the soft flesh of his eyes, Kaeya turned his attention away from pondering about the continuous series of nightmares towards where he was standing.
What had once been a barely-visible corridor viewable in the growing shadows of night-time had been transformed into an impressive hallway; morning light- filtered through the ill-fitted window near the end of the passage- illuminated the lacquered surface of the floor. Looking upwards, Kaeya manages to catch sight of the ceiling, painted a utilitarian grey, surprisingly devoid of the same hairline cracks that had characterized the ceiling of the room that he had once slept within.
Frowning, Kaeya peers back into the room with the fractures in the ceiling, wanting to confirm that whatever structural integrity issues he had witnessed had actually been real and not a figment of his imagination. Seeing the small cracks once again, he groans of both disappointment and anger, covering his face with both hands.
Fuck, he was growing careless.
It had already been a stupid decision to settle inside without fully exploring the nearby region for any potential signs of life, but it was downright foolish of him to immediately be drawn towards the bed, a comforting source of sleep, without an iota of care for his surroundings. Hell, both Father and Crepus had drilled these lessons into his mind years ago, Kaeya figuring out the hard way once when a younger version of him had stumbled into an ambush, failing to observe the sly gesture of a particularly crafty undercover treasure hoarder. Back then, the mistake almost cost Kaeya his life, though he managed to narrowly avoid the pointed tip of an arrow that whistled through the air, its target the backside of Kaeya's uniform right below his heart.
And that too, being this reckless somewhere in unfamiliar territory without having any understanding of what situation he had ended up in, was the prime definition of stupidity. Shaking his head, Kaeya then steels himself in preparation for exploring the surrounding area, putting his guard up in precaution.
While the documents inside would provide him some critical context of whether the location was truly situated outside Teyvat's borders or even in an entirely different world, gaining insight into the surrounding region and ensuring his safety was a higher priority. Walking down the corridor, it was only a matter of time before he reached the intersection connecting the hallway and the series of rooms hosting various supplies.
But instead of turning right to take him to his original decision, Kaeya decides to walk straight ahead, detecting that this section of the building had yet to be explored. Although the frontal view of the building's exterior yesterday hadn't revealed the full scope of the building, he's sure that it had to be much larger than just two supply rooms and a hallway. When he finally stops at the opposite end of the corridor, his suspicions are confirmed by the presence of another hallway, this one intersecting the original one at a roughly ninety-degree angle.
"Huh, another hallway," Kaeya thinks, stopping nearby the corner of the intersection. "Wonder where this is going?"
He doesn't need to spend much time thinking about it, his question immediately answered by the sight of the metallic door at the end of the hallway. Relieved at finding the building's exit point, he makes his way down the hallway, approaching the door at a quick pace. But instead of unlocking the door and making his way outside, Kaeya decides to teleport, the sudden blur of motion and change of scenery accompanying the action.
Judging from the official documents and state of affairs inside the building, Kaeya knew that some forces had occupied it relatively recently, as suggested by the quality of the supplies. Although the chance of the inhabitants returning to the abandoned complex was extremely slim
considering the state they left it in, it was still a possibility that Kaeya wanted to avoid. Doors magically opened from the interior were never a good sign. Plus, teleportation provided the additional benefit of avoiding opening and closing the door, whose metallic nature already made it seem heavy to move.
When the sight of his surroundings finally clears, Kaeya can only gape at the view.
Although the frontal view of the building's exterior seemed to have deteriorated, the degradation was nothing compared to its rear end, the rest of the complex following the same pattern. Where buildings that towered over the relatively flat land once stood, partially-collapsed ones stood in their wake, shards of wood and metal and small blocks of plaster and stone scattered across the tundra's surface as if something had been detonated. But that wasn't what had caught Kaeya's eye.
A massive area, anywhere from five to ten meters deep based on his estimates, was carved into the ground, a gentle slope opposite to where he stood connecting the surface and the underground area. But while the surface of the pathway and the surrounding, more-elevated area was covered for the most part in white snow, large chunks of debris had been strewn over the ground as if something had collapsed.
It was an interesting sight, to say the very least.
Walking forward, Kaeya eventually ends up approaching the walkway, making his descent down to the underground depths. Surprisingly, despite the length of the inclined pathway, it's still a short walk, the slope allowing Kaeya to quicken his gait.
Only when he approaches the assorted debris does a rancid smell hit him, causing him to gag. Covering his mouth, Kaeya coughs as if attempting to expel something stuck in his throat. A moment later, his eyes flicker toward the origin of the putrid scent, something sticking out amidst the debris, partially covered in blackened scraps of metal and broken planks of wood beginning to decay.
Wait, were those bodies?
Kaeya stares at the scene in mild shock, his eyes widening, taking the scenery in.
But before he approaches the bodies, he reaches for his half-cape, detaching its collar from the small chain it was attached to, the one that always kept the half-cape on his person rather than falling to the ground. Wrapping it around his face like a makeshift mask, Kaeya covers his nose, shielding himself from the rank smell of decay.
Finally moving forward, he ends up nearby one of the bodies, his mind taking into account the emaciated corpse's features.
Ribs protruding through a skeletal frame. Short-cropped black hair intermixed with a darker grey, as if cut by a knife. Dirt and dried blood covering regions of the skin where shredded rags, a mockery of adequate clothing, served as insufficient protection from the elements.
Where a thin scarf wrapped around the man's neck once lay, a red cut had scabbed over, signifying the man's unfortunate ending, his throat most likely slit with a knife. Considering the corpse's condition, it was an understatement to say that whatever the person, most likely a middle-aged man judging from his features, went through hell.
However, the thing that caught Kaeya's attention the most was not the cadaverous appearance of the body but the small ears jutting from the top of his head, the black tufts of fur sticking right amidst his black hair nearly unnoticeable.
Definitely not human.
Shaking his head in disbelief, Kaeya can only think about the implications of whatever he had stumbled upon.
Waking up in a strange land after an even stranger dream. Wandering through a desolate, snowy landscape for hours. Stumbling upon abandoned buildings. Documents written in a foreign language. And now, finding this.
He's definitely not in Teyvat anymore.
Unless Snezhnaya had a large population of humans with bear ears that Kaeya nor anybody else was informed about, or that this was all a hyper-realistic dream, Kaeya's in a completely different world.
At the thought, Kaeya can feel the tension evaporate from within him, a feeling of relief comforting him and spreading a refreshing wave of warmth throughout him as he stands amidst the frosty landscape.
To be unbound from the shackles of fate that chained him to his destiny.
To escape Father's plans and the tainted influence of the Abyss Order.
To be relieved of his eventual betrayal of everyone he loved and cared about
To finally be free.
Yet, despite the ramifications of his formulated theory, Kaeya can still feel the impurities within him, the corruption slowly corroding his veins as the Abyss calls to him. He can hear its whispers, calling him toward the beautiful vice of destruction, begging him to spread its contamination in a world devoid of the forces that had restrained it. Nevertheless, he holds on, willing himself to disregard the sinister whispers repeating in the back of his mind, shoving them far away.
Shaking his head in an attempt to dispel the mental traces of the Abyss, Kaeya involuntarily glances toward the right, being met with a sight that turned his stomach despite his close familiarity with death. Instead of one corpse of another middle-aged man, a woman and a child, lay upon the snow, their hands around each other in a tight embrace.
It would have been a relieving sight had their chests risen and fallen with every breath, surrounded by the snow and alive in the midst of this tragedy. Yet, their clothing was in a similar state to the previous corpse, the spattering of red staining the white surface of the ground promising the opposite. Looking closer, he can see a hole through both of their abdomens, suggesting the gruesome path in which their lives ended.
Kaeya's seen death before. He's seen innocents and civilians alike get caught up in unintended violence, Mortality's hand grabbing them far earlier than expected and pulling them toward the depths of the Abyss. He had witnessed unfortunate adventurers become mortally injured, saw caskets and sorrowful soldiers returning back home from Varka's expedition, and attended the funerals of various civilians and subordinates alike who had fallen prey to violence over the past few years.
But this?
This sight breaks him, twisting a portion of himself into painful contortions.
This wasn't just any abandoned settlement found in the middle of the tundra. It was a mass grave, the remnants of a massacre of the local population. These people's lives had been cut short, and what sickened him to his stomach had been the identity of the civilians, the sight of the young girl with the abdominal sword wound still burned into his mind despite his efforts to dismiss the savage imagery.
And judging from the fact that the majority of this place had seemed deliberately collapsed, he wouldn't be surprised if under all this rubble lay more corpses and dead bodies, a testament to the brutal ending inflicted upon the residents, no, the victims of something far more sinister.
Gripping the hilt of his summoned sword tighter, Kaeya tilts his head upwards to the sky, letting out a yell of anger and frustration that reverberates throughout the air. He sees a brief flash of black, the familiar signature of his abyssal powers unexpectedly manifesting around him, but he doesn't care at the moment. It's a culmination of pent-up emotions, those suppressed until now after what he's seen and registered in the past few days.
The vicious sight laid out in front of him, the fact that Mondstadt would fall prey to Snezhnaya in his absence, the realization that he was far from home with barely any understanding of the region around him and little hope to survive.
After all he did, after all he'd suffered the past few years, there was a strong possibility that his life would end anticlimactically, tossed into a world whose future was even bleaker than his own.
Unbeknownst to him, the surrounding region within a five-mile radius suddenly went quiet, the sounds of the small birds and mammals silenced, only the cold gales of wind that whistled through the air signifying any presence of life remaining in the frosty wasteland.
Almost three hundred miles away, a group of armored soldiers halts abruptly, the steady gait they had once assumed abandoned suddenly in favor of stillness. Their metallic boots, once cutting through the snow with easy efficiency, now plow through the frozen ground below it, anchoring them in place. It's the only thing that prevents them from stumbling and falling face-first into the ground.
There's not many left from the original group, their membership having been cut nearly in half over the course of their journey. Their clothes are tattered, a testament to the endlessly harsh conditions of the tundra they had endured day and night. Yet, even amidst their depleted numbers, they are still a sizable force, a sight that would have sent shivers down the spines of their enemies.
A short distance away, another soldier, this one garbed in a darker black, stands still in the expanse of endless white, the gentle descent of snow being the only movement in the surrounding region. Closing his eyes, the soldier shakes his head before opening them once more, his attempt to dispel the disorientation that had suddenly overcome him having been successful.
Behind the man, the larger group of soldiers begin to do the same, slowly regaining their sense of consciousness. A shiver runs up the soldiers' spines, a feeling of uneasiness stemming from the lack of any memories from the past few days, yet they dismiss it, instead attempting to decipher where they had ended up. The region, once devoid of any sounds except the steady howls of the harsh snowstorms, begins to resonate, its silence now punctuated by whispers.
Only mere moments later, when the pieces begin to click together and the whispers' volume intensifies does panic set amongst the group, disorientation making its way for fear and involuntary terror.
A harsh bark of orders from the darker-garbed soldier, most likely the commanding officer of the group judging from his stature and reaction, shuts up the rest of the group, the familiar sound of the snowstorm's gales dominating the region once more.
The commanding officer himself feels uneasy, feelings of panic at the situation he and his subordinates had ended up in setting every part of himself alight. Yet, he suppresses these emotions, knowing that an expression of alarm from senior officers would only further worsen his subordinates' apprehension, sending them into a state of disorganization.
Memories flash through the commanding officer's mind, a jumble of images and thoughts all wrapped up in a gigantic bundle.
The northern tundras. Ursus' Infected Work Camps. The massacre of the Infected Workers. The destruction of the Originium mines. And finally, the planned collapse of the work camp's surrounding infrastructure.
The planned collapse of the work camp's surrounding infrastructure…
Duke Tarasov would not be pleased.
Despite becoming paler with every passing moment, the commanding officer makes a motion toward the group in front of him. And in response, they turn around, they turn around, marching back in the direction where they had emerged.
They had some loose ends to tie up.
AN: Sorry for the weird formatting, it's now been updated! I appreciate the people reading for informing me about it!