Tales of a Hundred Cycles

by BANIX

A book written by an unknown author had recently gained immense popularity in Teyvat, a collection of short stories of a Descender who reincarnated in parallel versions of Teyvat at different points in time. Unbeknown to them, each of the short stories are true historical events that took place in those parallel universes

20. Cycle 38- Our Colours

"You have been following me for a while now. Do you want to come out? I have drinks."

The man sitting dangerously at the edge of a tall cliff had the audacity to give the wine bottle in his hand a little swirl. The great shaman of the Masters of the Night-Wind decided to come out of hiding since her presence had been detected.

The Battle of the Seven Colours had only just concluded not too long ago. Natlan was still recovering from the brutal onslaught of the Abyss. She couldn't possibly leave any possible threats roaming free, not after how she had detected the anomaly that shouldn't have existed.

"Who are you?"

"Me? Good question," the man whose figure was hidden by a huge cloak and a hood over his face took another swig of alcohol. He wasn't expecting to find himself in Natlan again since he had already lived, worked and fought for Natlan for over five hundred years in his previous cycle as their Pyro Archon.

He loved Natlan with all his heart. Really, he did, and would readily take up arms to defend the nation in her time of need, but he also required a much needed break.

He's burnt out, to be frank with himself.

"Answer my question," Citlali threatened, her power blooming dangerously with frigid cold. The Sacred Flame had been tampered, the Wayob fooled, memories of the Night Kingdom had been altered. The implications of such a finding have heavy consequences and she had done everything in her power to track down the cause and perpetuator. Her search led her to this unknown man.

"Don't need to be so on edge, Citlali," the man lazily waved her concerns away. He had known of Citlali from two of his previous cycles that led him to Natlan. Admittedly, he knew very little about her in both cycles due to her very reclusive nature. There really were no opportunities to meet her face to face and even if they did, their conversations had been brief and always revolved around official businesses. Furthermore, if there were things dire enough to require the great shaman to personally intervene it usually wasn't good news for those involved.

Citlali's eyes narrowed. It wasn't so unthinkable for the strange man to recognise her due to her infamy, but her instincts were telling her that this was more than just that. If he had the power to alter the memories of the Night Kingdom… Nobody could ever know just how much he knew.

"If you know me you should also know that I'm not known for being patient. You don't want to answer my question? Fine. I will bring you to the Pyro Archon for questioning myself!"

Merciless cold engulfed the strange man and Citlali's eyes widened in both trepidation and shock at how he easily dispelled her attack with a single blast of fire. The power released was very controlled. Not too much to accidentally hurt anyone or devastate the environment, not too little to allow himself to be hurt by her attacks. It was just enough to repel her attacks and only that.

To be able to do that spoke volumes about his mastery over the pyro element. He's not the typical run of the mill bandits or thugs.

"You are right. You are not known for your patience," the man agreed. What name should he give her? His Natlanese name of Hunahpu would be the most obvious choice but… he's a little tired of being Hunahpu the Pyro Archon or Hunahpu the Ujasiri after all that he did for over five hundred years, being in constant war and constantly leading Natlan from one victory to another.

He wants to be a little selfish for this cycle. He wants to live here in Natlan, not as a Pyro Archon or anyone important, just… as another Natlanese. He couldn't do that as Hunahpu. Just the name alone reminds him of the weight behind the power and oath he swore to Xbalanque and to the nation. It would be great if he could use another name.

He looked up, spotting the bright moon and the twinkling stars that dot the dark night sky. It's a very beautiful colour and a flash of inspiration hit him.

"Citlali… Your name means "star". In that case… Why don't I be the "moon" just for this cycle? No longer the bright sun that everyone looks upon for guidance and strength, but the moon that people gaze upon when they require the solitude and comfort of the night to recover and look forward to a new dawn."

"What are you talking about?" Citlali gritted with narrowed eyes, still undecided if she should continue to press on her assault because even she could sense that he's not in any way inferior to her as a combatant just from that brief exchange of blows earlier. She had no confidence if she could really subdue him on her own if they truly were to fight for real.

"Metstli. You asked for my name, so now I'm giving it to you. My name is Metstli."

"You expect me to believe that? Don't think I couldn't tell that you looked up at the moon and decided to call yourself the "moon"!" Citlali accused angrily. Metstli means moon. This man literally decided to name himself after the moon!

"You asked me a question and I gave you my answer. To believe it or not is your choice," he shrugged and patted at the empty spot next to him. If his memories served him right, Citlali was an avid enjoyer of alcoholic beverages.

"Come, sit. I brought a whole crate with me today."

"Hmph, I will be keeping an eye on you," she felt the need to remind him but accepted his offer anyway. She really couldn't sense any ill will from him. She's willing to take a more gentler approach to find out what she needs to know because it's apparent she's not going to get anything out of him with her preferred choice of violence.

He handed her a new bottle. She checked if the brew had been tampered with whatsoever with a brief application of her tribe's mystic arts and only when the results came back negative did she dare to drink the beverage.

Wait a second, where did he get this from? The taste is pretty good.

"You tampered with our Sacred Flame."

It wasn't a question, but a definitive statement.

"I guess I did," he admitted. He stretched out his left palm and a familiar looking feather-shaped obsidian stone manifested into view.

"My Ancient Name, Ujasiri. I don't know how you sensed the change, but this tampering that you sensed and which led you to me, it originated from this Ancient Name."

She directed a trickle of her power towards the obsidian stone and her confusion deepened the more she tried to analyse the Ancient Name that she's certain did not exist in any records or memories.

"How on earth did you…"

"It's a long story that I don't wish to speak about. You wouldn't believe me anyway."

---

"Granny Itztli! Granny Itztli! Are you home? Didn't you see my challenge?"

A frustrated muffled shout came from within the house. The area where the fearsome Granny Itztli lived turned silent after the reverberation of a short cacophony of terrified screams. The great shaman trudged her tired feet back to her home, yawning tiredly as she waded through the mess in her house and then promptly fell back into the soft comfortable embrace of her bed.

"Seriously, you really should tidy your home every now and then. Your place looks like a crime scene."

"Why should I? You would do it for me anyway," Citlali said with a yawn. No doubt her neighbour had heard the commotion and decided to come out to check what was going on.

"I really wondered how you lived like this for so long," he said with a fond sigh. "What do you want to eat today?"

"Meat please."

"Cooked medium. I get it," he nodded in understanding. He's a firm believer that a person should have three proper meals a day. His neighbour, not so much. He figured since he had to prepare his own meals either way it also won't be too much of a hassle to prepare an extra proportion for the shut-in. The great shaman never seemed to have grasped the ability to take care of herself despite having lived for centuries.

He headed straight to her kitchen. She gave him the key to her house so he could enter whenever he wanted and most of the time, the meals were prepared at her place rather than his so it would save him the trouble of bringing the food over from his place. Lunch was completed soon enough, he went to wake up Citlali who still looked a little hungover, she threw a little tantrum about not wanting to wake up. He dragged her out of bed and made her eat a proper meal.

"What made you turn in so late last night? Reading your light novels again?"

"Nah, I was drinking."

"And you didn't invite me?"

"Might have forgotten. I had a long dream though."

"Of what?"

"How we first met."

And how beautiful the colours of the night sky was when they first sat down side by side to share a drink.

---

He was everything that she was not.

He had this very down-to-earth and approachable aura despite being a stranger. The tribe warmed up to him in the blink of an eye. People just instinctively wanted to place their trust in him, looked up to him, approached him because they knew he could solve their troubles or advise them when they were lost.

He's like a sun, but chose to pick a name that represented the moon. Yet, even when he seemed to care so much about others, it's like he also cared about nothing at all. He looked approachable at first glance, but felt so distant as she got to know him better with the passing of time. It's like he tried to fool himself that he's one with them but deep down, understood that he could never truly integrate with the people around him.

She's also everything that he was not.

She's cold, aloof, uncaring and pretending not to care about anything as a shield when in reality, all she ever did was to worry about things. People told horror stories about her, only looking for her when the tribe really faced a crisis or to go through with the tradition as one of Huitzilin's students. Otherwise, they stayed out of her way. She was a genius who mastered the tribe's mystic arts unlike him, who's only notable for his impressive martial skills but was unable to communicate or speak with spirits, unable to learn even the most basic of their tribe's mystic secrets as he had zero spiritual sensitivity.

A few decades passed in the blink of an eye. He had stayed with her tribe ever since she brought him back to keep him under her watch. She initially brought him back to watch over the person whom she believed was a dangerous threat to their nation but somewhere down the line, they had unknowingly become friends. They became neighbours where they lived in the rural area of the tribe's territory. People soon figured out that he's also a long-living individual just like her. How he attained this longevity was a mystery just as her secrets remained as such to him.

She just understood that one day, she suddenly had another friend and companion that could accompany her in this long meaningless and colourless life. So, it's not that bad.

People started calling him Grandpa Tezcat. That name was a reference to the smoking mirrors that signified their tradition and way of life and Citlali couldn't quite remember which upstart was the one to call Metstli by that nickname and for what reason this name came about, but the name stuck. By the time five decades had passed she was the only one who remembered that his name was actually Metstli. She became the only person to call him by this name in this long endless journey of life.

To everyone in the Masters of the Night-Wind and in Natlan, he's simply Grandpa Tezcat. He's the friendly undefeatable grandpa who also lived a long life like the fearsome scary Granny Itztli.

"How did you endure the long passage of time?"

He never pried into her secrets just as how she didn't do so for him. She didn't particularly care how he became cursed with longevity like she did as long as he didn't mean Natlan and her people any harm. She didn't particularly care what his real name was, the name that he never gave her.

He's a great drinking buddy to have though, and it's a little less lonely to have somebody who could walk this same road she does, or at least be there with her when she turns to look back at the lonely path which she walked on.

At least she's no longer alone.

"I didn't always manage to endure it. I just met many wonderful people who gave my long life meaning. Many times, our meetings were short, transient and fleeting. Sometimes, they lasted far longer, but no matter how long or short these memories gave my life a little colour, a little something to look forward to. It made the loneliness much more bearable. It gave my life a little more colour."

"... Including meeting me?"

"Yes. You gave my life colour too."

"I bet it's the prettiest colour you've ever seen."

"I've seen many beautiful colours. You will have to fight with them for the top spot."

---

"That's not how you weave a scroll. Jeez, I had been teaching you how to do this for decades and you still couldn't get this right?! Shoo, move to the side. It's criminal to waste such good fabric. I will take over from here."

The Masters of the Night-Wind have a unique responsibility among the six tribes of Natlan. Their primary role are "shamans" who conduct rituals to communicate with the Wayob for knowledge and guidance. They are responsible for monitoring the health of Natlan's ley lines and phlogiston. They are skilled in the art of medicine, phlogiston engraving and last but not least, record-keeping.

What made their method of record-keeping so unique was that the people of Mictlan used woven fabric instead of paper to record their history. Natlan is a land where inheritors of memories and oaths dwell. Memories can only be inherited if there are mediums used to pass them down. Most in Natlan do so via songs, storytelling, and inscribing of legendary feats.

The people of Mictlan do it by weaving fabric. They weave the memories they wish to pass down, dye it in the memories of their colours, and thus will memories be preserved for inheritance.

He watched in silence as she worked on weaving the fabric and dying it with colours. He didn't know if he's the only one feeling this way, but there's this odd sense of tranquility whenever he watches Citlali weave. The way she did it just looked very pleasantly different from what he had observed from other members of her tribe. He attributed it to her expertise in her tribe's traditional craft.

They spent a lot of time with each other over the years. They had learnt to trust each other but that didn't mean that they knew everything about the other. Just like how Metstli only had the foggiest idea what went on within her home when she locked herself in it until he comes to routinely check on her and make their meals, Citlali was only vaguely aware that he would regularly disappear for prolonged periods of time every now and then, but never question where he would go.

All she knew was that he would always return. She would sometimes sense the faint presence of the Abyss on him much like how one might notice a lingering scent. Her first experience with such an encounter had her secretly on edge many years ago, but she had soon deduced that his prolonged disappearance was in actuality, a pilgrimage to a place unknown to her where he had most likely hunted down abyssal monsters en masse and was why faint traces of the Abyss might sometimes linger on him when he returned.

So, she left it at that. His secret which she found out was never exposed by her own hands. As long as he didn't intend to cause Natlan any harm she would allow him to do as he pleased.

It was on one such occasion that her act of turning a blind eye finally pushed her to take action. He had disappeared once again. She couldn't remember exactly how long because time was a meaningless concept to her. All she knew was that the then Chief of the tribe respectfully knocked on her doors, disrupting her precious private moments of reading her beloved light novels in the process. She remembered being so annoyed that she didn't even bother to change out of her pajamas, answering and opening her door with a furious scowl that promised painful retribution if this young child had knocked on her doors without a proper reason.

"Granny Itztli, I'm very sorry to have disturbed you, but do you know where Grandpa Tezcat had gone? We know that he would go on a long solo trip every now and then but it's been almost a year since we last heard from him. This… had never happened before."

It was then that Citlali was rudely jolted back to the reality of time. She thought his disappearance this time felt far longer than usual but she never thought it was already this long. Anxiety started to pool in her gut and she was soon accompanied by the Chief to head to their sacred ground where their tribe's Wayob will be at, the physical manifestation that they appear in the form of obsidian totems.

The fastest way to locate anyone in Natlan will be through the Wayob via the Night Kingdom. She invoked her massive powers as the great shaman to conduct a search and gave the children there an educational demonstration on what it really means to be a great shaman.

Nothing prepared her for the shock that came from the answer she received from her Wayob. The answer was so ludicrous that she believed that even someone as great as her had made a mistake and so she made a second query, and then a third query… but the Wayob was as patient just like how the answer she received was as certain. Citlali had not made a mistake nor did the Wayob lie to her.

Metstli really was in the Night Kingdom. All on his own.

"That… idiot. IDIOT! IDIOT IDIOT IDIOT!"

She screamed and stomped her feet in both worry and frustration, much to the confusion of everyone present. That man was literally right in the thick of the Abyss in the Night Kingdom, beyond the safe territory of the Wayob's protection and had been there for nearly a year. She had no idea how on earth he could have reached there all alone without assistance nor did she have any idea how he was still alive after being in the heart of the Abyss' territory for so long. She just knew for certain that this definitely wasn't his first foray into the home of their nation's greatest enemy.

The "pilgrimage" that he had been venturing on and off all along… It was the Night Kingdom?

"Strange, I thought I heard a very familiar scream just now," Metstli muttered under his breath as he dodged a swipe made by an abyssal monster before ending its life with unrelenting flames. There is no way for him to properly keep track of time in the Night Kingdom so he had no clue just how long he had been here this time.

He had been making visits to the Night Kingdom in every cycle that took him to Natlan. It was to slow the advance of the corruption brought about by the Abyss and prevent it from affecting the Wayob. If he could, he would also try to purify any corruption that he encountered. However, this was the first time he was able to venture so deeply and he came too far to just turn back and return home now.

This was the very first time he made it this far. He had finally managed to chart a traversable path through the chaos to reach the heart within. He's so close to meeting the perpetrator that made Natlan a breeding ground for war, the pain in the ass that must be removed for Natlan to finally move on and be free from the horrors of the Abyss. If achieving that goal meant staying here in the Night Kingdom a little longer he would gladly do so with a smile on his face.

He is after all, the Shadowfire of Natlan, the hero Ujasiri.

"You are as disgusting as the son of a bitch I imagined you to be."

The samsaric wanderer could not help but channel his inner Junjou the moment he finally managed to meet the rumoured heart of the Abyss. He had caught the brief glimpse of Gosoythoth's form in his previous cycle before he offered himself to the Sacred Flame as fuel to start the Night Warden War, in a desperate hope to keep the lives lost to the minimum. Seeing it from afar was one thing, seeing it up close was another.

"I never expected you to reach here, but it was amusing to see you struggle for so long. It was quite an enjoyable entertainment," a deep voice that oddly resemble Xbalanque's replied. "You… are an anomaly. It's like you do not exist and I cannot understand why this is so but no matter, I will know once I consume you."

The entity of ineffable form that could take on the physical manifestation of anything in its memories started to morph and change shape. Endless waves of monsters started to appear in droves. The samsaric wanderer simply spat and prepared himself for combat. He knew it will be unlikely for him to return alive but the things he had learnt in this cycle is a fruitful one because he now knows the exact route to take to locate this – if he had to quote Junjou in his previous cycle– parasitic overgrown cancer cell and take it out for good the next time.

"Be careful, you might not know if you bit off more than you can chew," raging fire bloomed and coated his body as he channeled the divine power of the Pyro Archon through his veins. Gosoythoth was visibly shocked at the impossibility of the sight, the samsaric wanderer could tell that much, but the heart of the Abyss cared not for how or why he could manage the impossible as a human.

All it cared about was the consumption of him and eventually, Natlan and the whole of humanity.

"If you so yearn for the agony of death…" Immense pressure and power of the Abyss began to quake and push back against the flames of the shadowfire and Metstli narrowed his eyes. Dark fog began to cloak and shroud Gosoythoth before they suddenly dispersed to show the form of a huge winged dragon with two equally humongous swords.

"Then bow down to its true appearance!"

Metstli swung his sword just as the dragon did. The opposing power of fire and darkness erupted in a ruthless explosion and Metstli took flight. He would make full use of this fight to learn as much as he could about the true enemy of Natlan and bring this knowledge with him to the next cycle. From his past experiences, all wars in Natlan would eventually end in the era of Mavuika's leadership, so…

He will fight as "Mavuika", to see if "her power" has what it takes to take down the Abyss and then convey to her what she could use to her advantage, what to take note of, what the inherent weaknesses of her power might be in the face of Gosoythoth's power, when they finally meet again in the next cycle when he returns home again to Natlan.

"Rise!"

The authority of "conflict" was summoned and the Ring of Searing Radiance manifested behind his back. Massive fireballs shot at the abyssal dragon, lighting up the darkness as the power of the Pyro Archon wrestled against the taint of corruption. Metstli frowned, this wouldn't be enough. Mavuika's power alone didn't seem sufficient to bring down this oversized lizard all on her own.

"Futile! I am now the Lord of Eroded Primal Fire, you are now facing the might of the Dragon King which I had devoured! All will be mine to seize, devour, and destroy!"

"Admittedly, I wasn't expecting you to take on this form," Metstli confessed. As Xbalanque's sworn brother of course he would have seen the corrupted dragon that Xbalanque had slain during the titanic battle at the Great Volcano of Tollan during his thirty-first cycle. He just wasn't expecting the overgrown cancer cell to be able to take on the form of the fallen Pyro Dragon Sovereign.

But Sovereign or not, he had a mission to fulfil. He has to make the most out of this encounter and pass on this knowledge to the future renditions of Natlan he will return to one day as their Shadowfire, their Pyro Archon.

Hour of Burning Skies

He slashed at the dragon with Mavuika's best technique. It didn't take him long to start piecing out an increasingly clearer picture of how he believed Mavuika would fare against the nation's sworn enemy. She's powerful, he never once doubted that, but she definitely would need assistance to really stand a good fighting chance against the Lord of Eroded Primal Fire because even his own chances of slaying this beast on his own were hopelessly miniscule.

Metstli conjured a massive fireball and threw it at Gosoythoth, allowing him to create some distance to start gathering the power he needed to start his final and true battle. His original motive of assessing Mavuika's power against the heart of the Abyss had mostly been accomplished so there's no need to limit himself to use only her techniques and power.

It's time to start getting serious. Playtime's over.

Brother, watch over me

"Running away so soon?! You aren't so hard to chew after all!"

The towering flaming sword cleaved down where Metstli was hovering at. Gosoythoth was expecting many things that could happen, but it certainly did not account for the possibility of the puny human being able to stop its sword with his bare hands.

"The wanderer walks upon the samsaric roads in an eternal search of purpose and answer."

An obsidian feather began to shine like a dazzling star within the bleak night sky from where it was concealed within the breast pocket of Metstli's shirt. Flames roared as the memories of Natlan began to offer their blessings to the Pyro Archon destined to be burnt and forgotten, but will always be welcomed back to their home.

"He who had been forgotten and never remembered shall always have the strength to forge ahead."

"You–! Who are you?"

All that answered Gosoythoth was the immense force that sent it flying back before the Lord of Eroded Primal Fire righted itself in the void. The winds howled as the power of Anemo swirled at the wanderer's command. He raised his palm in Gosoythoth's direction, the gathering vortex sitting on his palm pointing at it like an arrow that promised to find its target.

Wind's Grand Ode

"He who experienced countless uncertainties shall never falter."

The raging power of the Anemo Archon that was usually gentle and only turned violent when the freedom of his followers was being threatened fully manifested. Gosoythoth screeched in pain as the thousand winds seeked to rip it to shreds. It did eventually manage to make the wind go still with its immense power but clearly, the power of the Anemo Archon was not the only power the enigmatic human could wield.

"In the face of tribulations, the shadowfire shall always burn to ignite the sky and earth."

"The only one who shall be burnt is you!"

Gosoythoth screamed with a ruthless roar, its swords came slashing down without mercy. Metstli calmly remained motionless in his current position, crossed his arms in an X in front of himself before spreading them outwards.

It takes more than just that to even scratch the jade shield of the Geo Archon.

"Fire will always burn in Natlan. Not to wage a war of senseless destruction, but one to bring about peace and warmth. You wanted to know my name, Gosoythoth?"

Massive lances of stone were hurled at Metstli's mental command, forcing the abyssal dragon to retreat and evade that deathly strike.

"Remember, and remember it well. I am the hero Ujasiri, the Shadowfire of Natlan and the nation's Pyro Archon. I have come home to Natlan–"

The flaming greatsword he wielded burst into flames and quickly lengthened in length from the sudden increase in power.

" – to end you!"

The void quaked in a silent scream as both fighters started to truly fight with the intention to erase the other from existence, to eradicate the opposing foe so thoroughly that there wouldn't be a memory for Teyvat to remember their mortal enemy by once they were done with it. Gosoythoth managed to pin Metstli down under its sword, rendering him immobile with its immense weight. It raised its other sword high up in the air, intending to exterminate this enigma that threatened its existence.

"There's a saying in Inazuma, that everyone has three faces: one that you show everyone, one that you show to those closest to you, and one that you show no one. Congratulations, Gosoythoth, you have succeeded in making me show you the side I never wanted to show anyone."

A bloodthirsty grin smeared Metstli's face just as the second sword came crashing down. A gigantic buildup of energy could be felt moments before Gosoythoth's sword fell and it culminated in an uncontrollable outburst of explosion of elemental energy arising from a tremendous overload reaction.

Gosoythoth watched on in disbelief as the human walked out of the attack unscathed and alive. The Eyes of Stormy Judgement joined the Ring of Searing Radiance as the power of both the Electro and Pyro Archon impossibly merged together to form a new power.

"This bloodthirsty side of me– I never liked to show it to anyone. You can have the honours," Metstli growled with eyes that gleamed a shade of blood red as he took a stance that promised certain demise for anyone foolish enough to take on the full might of his blade. He made his swing and space was torn, successfully cleaving one of Gosoythoth's sword into two using the signature technique of the Electro Archon. The immense overload reaction that filled Metstli's sword proved to be too uncontrollable, sparking a chain of unrestrained and chaotic elemental explosions that decimated the space around them.

Gosoythoth cleared the smoke surrounding it with a beat of its wings, only to suddenly find the human lunging at it with a crazed battlecry that screamed of a desire to win at all costs.

"Die, Gosoythoth!"

"We have no way of seeing all the possibilities that lie ahead in the future, so we have to rely on clumsy trial-and-error to gain knowledge. Just think of pain as the tuition you have to pay."

The power of Dendro bloomed across the wounds previously afflicted by Metstli's slash of his sword, fuelled by the powerful technique of the Dendro Archon. Gosoythoth retaliated with a primal release of fire-infused breath, one corroded by the power of the Abyss. Both combatants split apart, eyes now crazed and bloodshot, fully intending to show no mercy to the other within the depths of the Night Kingdom.

"You shall pay for your insolence!"

Abyssal flames started to flood towards Metstli's like a disastrous flood. In response, the hero Ujasiri put his sword aside and started to gather a frightening amount of hydro energy within his palms.

Gosoythoth is not the only one that can wield the power of a Sovereign.

The authority of the Iudex of Fontaine clashed against the flames of the fallen Dragon King. The teachings that Neuvillette generously imparted to Metstli when he was the Beastslayer of Fontaine who slew the Great Beast Elynas finally could be unleashed for a righteous cause.

"I have already died thirty-seven times, Gosoythoth! How many times have YOU died?! The flames of Natlan will guide me home one day, but there's nobody to do the same for you!"

The power of Courage was ignited as Metstli called upon the power embodied by his Ancient Name. Xbalanque had slain Xiuhcoatl to establish the nation of Natlan, it would be an embarrassment if he couldn't exterminate a copy of the original Dragon King as the other half of the Twin Heroes.

"I need no guide, for I am death itself! And I, shall be the cause of your thirty-eighth death!

Barrages of dark scales pelted down upon Metstli like hellfire as he summoned his sword. The power of the Abyss is never ending and knows no limits, Metstli knew from the start that he would not win this battle, not when he's alone like this, but the hero Ujasiri pledged to use his life as a sacrifice to injure Gosoythoth such that it would not be capable of attempting another invasion upon Natlan for a long while.

Hopefully, his sacrifice would mean that more would live to see the beautiful colours of the world for a little longer.

Hour of Burning Skies

Despite his best efforts the hero Ujasiri was flung back like a ragdoll. He barely managed to roll away to evade the sword slash that quickly followed. He summoned an orb of vacuum and hurled it at Gosoythoth, delaying it just long enough to apply a quick fix of the abyssal corruption that had afflicted his right arm in that previous clash of power.

"Bow down to the might of the Abyss! Your efforts shall be proven futile by the power of darkness! Night will return to claim all once the light of the flame has been extinguished!"

The power of corroded flames bathed the samsaric wanderer who released an uncontrollable scream of agony which quickly turned silent. Even Gosoythoth had believed that it had finally slain the human who had proven to be far too problematic but it was proven wrong once again.

Nuo Dance of Conquering Evil

A swift figure littered anemo-infused slashes across Gosoythoth's body. The Vigiliant Yaksha's unique technique to convert karmic evil into a source of power had now ironically turned the Ujasiri's affliction into a weapon to be used against its original master.

He had not died thirty-seven times without picking up a trick or two.

"Burn to cinders!"

A mighty slash of pure pyro energy severed one of Gosoythoth's arms, a brand new greatsword now held in Metstli's hands. He had no idea how this weapon suddenly found its way to him but he's not going to complain. He could feel that the weapon is capable of resisting the Abyss and it could feel it whispering its name into his mind– A Thousand Blazing Suns– and if his suspicions were right this might be the weapon that the Xbalanque of this reality had wielded and thrusted into the Sacred Flame for a battle he knew would occur in the future to decide Natlan's fate.

Throwing a sword into fire definitely sounded like something Xbalanque would do.

However, a greater concern was on Metstli's mind now that he realised that Xbalanque had left a weapon for Natlan. This weapon might just be the key to help Natlan fight the war to end all wars and if that was so, he absolutely cannot allow it to be destroyed or be taken by Gosoythoth.

His goal had to change in light of the unexpected development. He will have to find a way to deliver this sword back to the surface, one way or another.

"Enough! You foolish pest!"

Gosoythoth was now thoroughly enraged. Its body that was capable of weathering the worst punishments Metstli could shower it with did not swiftly close the wounds like it used to. These are the wounds inflicted by this mysterious sword. The sword that appeared to aid Metstli definitely was created to fight against the Abyss. It's a powerful and valuable weapon that Natlan needed.

He needs to make it out alive to deliver this sword to the current Pyro Archon.

Gosoythoth was about to make another move just when Metstli was trying his best to come up with a way to fulfil his new objective. It was then the situation took another unexpected turn.

Gigantic chunks of ice forced Gosoythoth to abandon whatever it was trying to unleash. Metstli turned his head to the source and was both shocked and surprised to spot the figure who was hurriedly gesturing to him to come over to his side.

"Get over here, hurry!"

Metstli did not question nor did he have the time to even wonder why or how or what The Captain was doing here in the depths of the Night Kingdom. All he knew was that The Captain unleashed and triggered some sort of artefact the moment he joined the Harbinger's side, allowing them to instantly be transported out of the Night Kingdom.

The exhaustion that had been accumulating within Metstli's body instantly overwhelmed him from his sudden exit from combat. He stumbled, only to find himself being caught and supported by a large pair of hands. Metstli looked up, still unable to understand how or why Capitano would be there in the Night Kingdom.

"I'm sure you have questions but allow me to first assure you, I am not your enemy. Please allow us to administer emergency treatment to you. If we delay any longer your body might really succumb to the corrosion of the Abyss."

If it wasn't for the experience in Metstli's previous cycle where he bore witness to how Capitano had indeed laid his life on the line to defend Natlan, he wouldn't allow himself to just let sleep take him and entrusted himself to The Captain. When he finally woke up it was to the familiar sight of the ceiling of his bedroom and he slowly sat up with a pained groan.

And then the pain sharply intensified when a pillow hit him by the back of his head and the force of which caused him to have an intimate greeting with the floor below.

"YOU IDIOT! WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?! GOING SO DEEP DOWN INTO THE NIGHT KINGDOM LIKE THAT?! DO YOU HAVE A DEATH WISH, HUH? HUH?!"

"C-Citlali…! Look, I can explain!"

"G-Granny Itztli! Grandpa Tezcat is a patient–"

"Try stopping me and you will be a patient too!"

Chaos ensued and the experience made Metstli wish to fight a hundred Gosoythoths rather than to face Citlali's wrath. In any case, Citlali's anger finally subsided and she continued to fuss over him, trying her best to heal his wounds with her mastery over her tribe's magic and undoing the worst of the abyssal corrosion that afflicted his body. That still didn't prevent her sharp tongue from making sarcastic remarks that jabbed at his foolery but Metstli didn't really take them to heart, he understood that was simply how Citlali showed her concern to others.

Capitano and the current Pyro Archon paid a visit the moment they were notified of his awakening, he told them what he found out and learnt about Gosoythoth while omitting certain things about himself to continue to keep them a secret, and Metstli entrusted the weapon he found in the Night Kingdom into the Pyro Archon's care.

He also learnt that it was really a fortunate coincidence that The Captain happened to be around in Natlan. His fight with Gosoythoth within the depths of the Night Kingdom had somehow alerted the Pyro Archon even before Citlali could arrive at the stadium to inform the nation's leader about what she found out from her tribe's Wayob. Capitano had felt the obvious disturbance too and took the risk to venture into it through some unknown methods in order to investigate what he believed to be a dangerous threat to Natlan. He discovered the route that Metstli had burned into the depths to finally discover Gosoythoth. He found Metstli and the rest was history.

"I guess I really owe you one," the samsaric wanderer thanked The Captain after the current Pyro Archon had departed to keep the mysterious weapon he brought back from the Night Kingdom somewhere safe. Capitano is not a Natlanese and for him to dive down so deeply for Natlan is a huge risk to his health and well-being. Even someone as strong as him had to be feeling the adverse effects for doing what he did.

"You don't owe me anything. On the contrary, it's you I should thank. You allowed me a glimpse into a future of hope that war can indeed be quelled," Capitano replied. "Let's have a good spar once you have recovered, I would love to pit my skills against yours."

"Likewise," Metstli agreed. He never did have the opportunity to properly get to know The Captain, his motivations and true power. It would be nice to learn more about this enigmatic and also the strongest Harbinger.

Even Capitano had to eventually take his leave. It was then that Metstli realised with growing horror that it now meant that there's nobody left to stop Citlali from chewing him into pieces for his stupid act.

Expectedly, Citlali's expression darkened instantly the moment it was just them alone in the room.

"Oh how brave of Grandpa Tezcat. Fighting against the Abyss all alone like that."

"Uh, I can explain…?" Metstli tensed and instinctively retreated backwards only to realise that he already had his back against the wall. He closed his eyes and accepted his demise, only to cautiously reopen them again when the pain he expected to be on the receiving end of didn't come but instead, felt Citlali tiredly resting her forehead against his chest.

"D-Don't do something like that again. I… I really thought I lost you for a moment there. The abyssal corrosion on your body that I saw when The Captain first brought you back, it was… really bad. I was so scared."

"... Sorry."

"And you will still choose to do that stupid act all over again even if you could turn back time," Citlali sighed. "Have you even given a thought about me? How would I have felt when I finally learned that the only person I know of who could accompany me in this long meaningless life suddenly died for a stupid reason that could have totally been avoided?"

Silence filled the air as they both remained in that position until Citlali spoke again.

"You know, I just realised that in the end, the both of us didn't really know each other that well after all. How or why you could alter the memories of the Night Kingdom, why you frequently made pilgrimages there to fight abyssal monsters behind everyone's backs, why you chose to take on Gosoythoth all on your own without even thinking of informing anyone… Who really are you? Why are you… doing something so stupidly selfless? Just…"

She raised her head and their eyes met. They both looked tired and their concern for the other was evident in their gaze, yet neither of them did anything more.

Anything more and the thin veil of unsaid agreement between them that allowed their friendship to last as long as it did will have to be torn down.

"I… was once Natlan's Pyro Archon."

"... What?"

"I won't tell you the specifics to avoid burdening you with the curse of knowledge. You just need to know that memories in Teyvat can be tampered with and forgotten. I will fight for Natlan in her time of need as long as I am in a position to, that is the duty that I had once sworn to take up and will continue to do so for as long as I am in Natlan. Does that explanation suffice?"

"For now," she begrudgingly accepted his explanation even if for the life of her, her genius mind still wasn't able to comprehend just what might have happened for Natlan to not know or outright forgotten that they had a Pyro Archon by the name of Metstli. Urgh, wait, that definitely wasn't even his true name to begin with.

That idiot.

"Metstli?" Citlali softly called his name after she rested her forehead against his chest once more, only believing that he was still here with her when she could hear the sound of his beating heart.

"Yes?"

"Please, don't do something like this again. I won't pry any further, but if even you were to leave me then I… I will have nobody left. I really will have nobody left," Citlali closed her eyes and silently invoked a spell to see slightly into the future. If the fool in front of her is incapable of taking care of himself she will have to do what she can to avoid having him fall into any future troubles.

Her spiritual eye glimpsed into the countless futures and–

"Citlali! Citlali!"

All she remembered was the sound of her own screams and the throbbing headache of all the tragic futures she just foresaw for only a split second, because a split second was her limit when glimpsing into his fate. She had seen and foretold a great many things as the great shaman, but she had never ever seen anyone with that kind of fate that shackled him to such unfair tragedies that reduced even her into a broken sobbing mess. All she knew was that when she finally calmed down from her hysterics she caught him in a tight hug and cried into his chest, crying in anguish at the understanding of the unfair futures that he will be cursed to experience. He gently patted her on the back, allowing her to cry as much as she wanted until she finally calmed down.

"... How much did you see?"

"You knew?" She questioned in disbelief. "Your fate is…"

"I had died thirty-seven times already, Citlali. Death is a close friend of mine."

Her breath hitched, her eyes widened from shock, her heart felt as if it stopped beating for a moment. He didn't state it but she just knew that the deaths he referred to wasn't the kind of death that their warriors would experience during the Night Warden Wars where they were allowed the chance to be resurrected as long as they returned victorious.

The deaths he so casually spoke about, it was true death in every sense of the word.

"I don't understand. Why? How could anyone have such an unfair fate? Why…!"

"Me neither," he admitted. "The futures you see, they probably are the many possible ways I could possibly die in this thirty-eighth cycle. It's rare of me to meet a kind end, most are excruciatingly painful. Sorry you had to see that."

"That's not what I'm concerned about! It's your death! Yours! You doofus!" She screamed, wishing that she had a metal club in her hands right now to hammer home her point into his dense brain. "If what I glimpsed was just the many possibilities which you could die in one… cycle, or whatever you called it, then the other thirty-seven times which you already died– oh archon, I cannot even begin to imagine…"

"And that's why I truly cherish the moments in which I have the freedom to choose my way of departure," he gently wiped away her tears with his finger. "If I'm fated to die like a dog, I would rather my death had value to it. My life in exchange for many countless others; that will forever be a price I am willing to pay. It may seem like the insanity of a martyr to you and I don't seek anyone's understanding in this matter, because I do not wish anyone else to experience my hell, but… please don't take away my one and only freedom, Citlali. It's the only choice I can make to decide how I want to eventually go."

"That's… That's…" Citlali's voice cracked at the understanding of how unfair everything was for her friend that was cursed with a fate so unjustly thrusted unto him. She wanted to scream, she wanted to strangle… something.

Yet, none of that would be of help to Metstli.

"I… I will– No, I can do something about it," Citlali gritted through her teeth as anger flooded her veins. She is the great shaman, the Granny Itztli. If memories of Teyvat can be tampered as he said, who's to say that fate cannot be altered too?

There's nobody more powerful and knowledgeable in such mystic arts than her throughout the whole of Natlan, the great Granny Itztli. If there's anyone in Natlan who could find a way to tamper with a person's fate, it would be her.

"Don't be rash!"

"I don't want to hear that coming from you!" Citlali screamed back at him in return. She had never felt so incensed in her entire life. Her life had finally started to be a little more colourful and this fleeting concept of fate is now telling her that her source of colours would one day die in one of those unimaginable horrifying tragic deaths? She wouldn't even wish any of the futures she saw on her worst enemies!

She broke free from his hold and stomped out of his house, locking herself in her home and even freezing her doors shut for extra measure. She had no idea how long she shut herself in until she really had to go out to get some food or risk dying of starvation, all she knew was that she had desperately poured through all of the carefully recorded texts in her library to search for a way to tamper with someone's fate to no avail.

Her ice had no way of keeping him out of her home forever, they both understood that. He simply gave her some time in hopes that she would finally cool down but she didn't. He eventually walked through her doors only to find her surrounded by a messy pile of scrolls, pouring through forbidden texts obsessively as if hoping one of which might provide her a solution or inspiration to try and tamper with fate.

"Citlali."

"Get out," she answered without even bothering to turn and look at him. A second wasted is a second lost in finding a way to save the idiot beyond saving.

"... I made you some meat dishes."

"Leave it outside. I will eat later when I'm hungry."

"Please, Citlali, don't do this for my sake–"

"If even I don't, then who will?!" She snapped back at him, her eyes a little bloodshot from how little she had been sleeping these days. "I had deciphered a little of what I saw of your fate that day. You… really were cursed to be forgotten, am I right? Everyone you knew and loved, nobody remembered you, am I right? Metstli– answer me dammit! I'm asking you a question! You have a mouth on your face! Use it to answer me!"

"You are treading into forbidden territory, one that might attract the gaze of the heavens that had annihilated anyone who came close to flouting their imposed rules and even prosperous ancient civilisations had fallen to their might. Your actions might spell doom for Natlan so please, Citali, please. Please just stop. I don't want to be the reason why you and Natlan might be eradicated by the Heavenly Principles."

"Heavenly Principles…" Citlali's eyes narrowed at the mention of a familiar term she had come across once or twice in passing in one of those ancient documents she had already poured through.

"Citlali…!" Metstli couldn't help but raise his voice when it was clear that the shaman was not intending to listen to him.

"I know everyone has to die one day, but you… You don't deserve a death like that," her weary voice cut through the tension like the sharpest knife. "Don't worry about me, I will figure something out. The principles or whatever– they wouldn't even be able to find me if I really want to hide myself–"

"You know that's not what I'm concerned about!"

"And I'm concerned about you!" She shouted back at him, tears on the verge of spilling from her eyes. "I just don't understand. Just how little did you value your own life to not even care about the horrifying ways you will continue to keep dying over and over and over again. Don't give me the crap that you had already gotten used to it or that it gets better with practice. Nobody should experience that kind of… kind of… injustice."

Silence fell between the both of them again, one that seemed to mark the start of a growing rift.

"We are not going to convince each other, are we?"

"It's you who had no faith in my abilities. If you did, you wouldn't be stopping me."

"If you had seen the things I did, you would know why I'm stopping you from diving too deep. Forbidden knowledge is a curse that holds the possibility of ruining you and Natlan and I... will not let that happen."

"Then what if divine retribution does not take place in Natlan?" She questioned, her mind made up.

"What do you mean?"

"Exactly as I said. You feared my search for knowledge might ruin Natlan if I do it here, so what if I conduct my research outside of Natlan?"

"And you were the one calling me foolish? Citlali, you understand better than anyone in the nation just why Natlanese are unable to leave Natlan! Every Natlanese's survival is tied to the Wayob. Without the protection of the Wayob, suffering from memory loss and emotional issues will be the least of your worries! If things go awry your soul might not even reunite and return to the Night Kingdom–"

"I know! Of course I know it better than you do! Who do you think you are talking to here?!" She snapped back. "But I am Citlali! You lack faith in my abilities to find a solution for you? Fine. You fear that my search for answers might threaten Natlan if I do it here? Fine, understandable, I heard you but Metstli, I have told you and I will tell you again: I am Citlali. If there's anyone here who has a chance of achieving the impossible, it's me."

The scrolls that were messily strewn about moved and magically rearranged themselves in front of Citlali before vanishing into thin air. The great shaman walked past the hero Ujasiri and did not turn back.

"Where are you going?"

"Why is it of concern to you?" She stopped to reply, neither party turning to look at the other as the shadow casted by the dim lighting fell upon the great shaman. "I'm just a pathetic woman doing her best to protect the only colour left in her life from fading away, what else is there to know?"

He immediately turned around, only to find nothing and nobody. The great shaman had mysteriously vanished into thin air and no matter how much he searched, he could not find her.

"Great shaman Citlali, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

Being stopped by the famous great shaman of the Masters of the Night-Wind on his way out of Natlan certainly was a surprise to The Captain, but he didn't sense any ill will from the deceptively long-lived woman. He's willing to listen to what she has to say.

"How do I request an audience with the Tsaritsa?"

"You wish to meet the Tsaritsa?"

The great shaman pulled down the hood of the cloak she was wearing, revealing her face to the former Khaenri'ah soldier.

"More specifically, how do I get her to make me a Harbinger?"

She might have stayed at Natlan her whole life, but she knew enough that each of the Fatui Harbinger were given god-like authority by the Tsaritsa. If she had such power at her disposal in addition to her own…

Her wish for their colours to not fade might really come true.

---

The pained wheeze of breath from The Fair Lady could be heard. Her steps had stumbled and her fear of what would come gripped her. The Electro Archon slowly walked towards the Eighth Fatui Harbinger with unhurried steps, sword already drawn and the ring of stormy eyes already lit behind her back.

"I… I am a Snezhnayan diplomat. You know what happens if you lay a finger on me," she reminded the stoic archon but that fear grew rapidly when the Raiden Shogun showed no signs of slowing down or reconsidering her options. "I swear, if you strike me, I will make sure… The Fatui will make sure that your precious Inazuma… Stop! I order you!"

The Fair Lady made one desperate lunge in a final gambit for survival. The Electro Archon didn't even blink and was about to make her move only to suddenly detect the presence of a hidden intruder. That brief lapse of distraction was sufficient for Signora to mysteriously vanish into thin air even before the Raiden Shogun could raise her sword to execute the defeated as per the sacred customs of the Duel Before the Throne.

"Urgh…!" Signora couldn't suppress the groan of pain that escaped her lips when she was callously deposited on the rock hard ground, causing the usually dignified Signora to fall in a very unsightly manner that insulted her pride. Yet, Signora could not help but felt immensely relieved when she realised that she had somehow been saved. She turned around, spotting the apathetic Tenth Fatui Harbinger lazily reading one of those trashy Inazuman light novels while lying on top of her stupid pillow-like enchanted objects.

"Nice landing."

"You–!" Signora seethed at the Tenth Harbinger's mockery of her failure, but had no choice and admitted that the only reason why she could even have the opportunity to bicker with her was because of her timely intervention.

"Why are you here?"

"Ah, a stupid question, as expected from the idiot who got played like a sucker and treated like a fool," the Tenth Harbinger dramatically closed her precious novel shut with a dull snap and sat up, stretching her arms with a lazy yawn as her pink coloured long hair swayed with the gentle breeze.

"Stop speaking in riddles and answer me!"

"Hey now, is that how you talk to the benefactor who saved your life?" Signora was once again reminded of the reality of her situation and of her most recent failure. "The Electro Gnosis was already taken, fool. The heartless puppet had taken it from the fox and there you are, throwing away your life needlessly and foolishly believing that the Gnosis… Hahaha! Even light novel authors wouldn't dream of writing such a plot twist for their most stupid characters!"

"Gianduja!" Signora screamed the codename of the Tenth Harbinger with a fuming seethe. All that she received was an apathetic smirk from the mysterious Harbinger that never once bothered to forge any close ties to any of her fellow Harbingers in the Fatui except for The Captain who had brought her into their ranks. Her motives for joining unknown, her powers rarely displayed or revealed, her disinterest in climbing up their ranks undeciphered. All Signora understood was that she was someone that even Capitano treated politely with utmost respect despite her position as the Tenth.

Nobody knew of the Tenth Harbinger's true name except for the Tsaritsa, Pierro and The Captain. The codename of Gianduja that the Tsaritsa bestowed upon the Tenth Harbinger was also the name she used to go by in the organisation. Nobody knew where she came from nor why the Tsaritsa did not assign her with missions as frequently as the others did, only knowing that she was tasked by the Tsaritsa to help out with something that only Gianduja, Pierro and the Cyro Archon were made aware of and that task precedes everything else.

"Alright, I really gotta go. Seriously, for someone who lived for over five hundred years it didn't seem like your intelligence had increased with your age. You have a brain up here, learn how to put it to good use. Don't get yourself killed next time, idiot."

Gianduja vanished with an application of her tribe's mystic arts before Signora could lunge at her in her rage, reappearing elsewhere and a thoughtful frown appeared on her face the moment she was sure that she's alone. As a seer who had finally truly mastered her ability to peer into the future during the past hundred years, she's able to catch glimpses of the fate of others and she had seen a glimpse of Signora's fated death at the Tenshukaku some time back. It was why she even bothered to make the long trip to Inazuma at all even at the risk of exposing herself to the dangers that came from being too far away from the Tsaritsa's protection, the same protection that prevented her from succumbing to the effects of the lack of protection from a Wayob.

Signora's fated duel today was a test for her, to test her hypothesis. If Signora could not be saved no matter how she tried, it would mean that fate will be set in stone despite all her attempts to tamper with it. If she did manage to save Signora and she did just save Signora…

It means fate can be tampered with after all. Her efforts for so many years had not been in vain.

"You'd better not die on me yet," the Tenth Fatui Harbinger muttered under her breath as the image of the person who managed to give her monochrome life some colour briefly flashed across her mind. The numerous tragic fates that she had glimpsed and foretold so many years ago were still fresh and vivid in her memories. They were all the possibilities of how he could meet his end in this cycle and the cruel colour of crimson that marked the end of his life was present in every single one of those visions. It's a colour that she had grown to quickly detest and hate, so much that she had willingly left her beloved tribe and nation, willingly becoming a traitor to search for a way to subvert fate itself.

If she succeeds, perhaps not only can she save Metstli, she might be able to use her findings to help Natlan in their never ending war against the Abyss too.

She turned and left, beginning her long trek back to Snezhnaya. She idly rubbed the flesh of her thumb across the pyro delusion that hung by the thin sash around her waist alongside her cyro vision, finding some comfort that she could finally now wield an element he commanded to courageously fight against the Abyss for the nation without asking for anything in return.

Even without tapping into her power of a seer she could already feel it, that their fated time is near. She will have to return to Natlan very soon and only time will tell if her best will be enough to subvert fate.

Only time will tell if their colours will remain vibrant or inevitably fade just like the countless graffitis that once painted the walls outside her home.

---

The brief skirmish between Mavuika and The Captain happened once again for the third time in his memories. Everything had unfolded almost exactly in the same way in his thirty-first and thirty-seventh cycle. That would also mean that Natlan will march off to war very soon.

However, this time, there will be no Archon Pledge to assist Natlan in their time of need. Whether Natlan could tide over this crisis on her own power is unknown to him, he had not lived long enough in his thirty-first cycle to find out. He had done what he could in this cycle. His frequent visits and unseen battles with the Abyss in the Night Kingdom had a visible effect on slowing down the Abyss' progress to consume Natlan. The knowledge he brought back from the Night Kingdom in his first ever true encounter with Gosoythoth had been passed on to Mavuika together with the weapon left hidden in the Sacred Flame.

If there's one thing that he had never figured out, it would be where Citlali had disappeared to and what she's been trying to do ever since their first big argument over a century ago. Never would he imagine that his presence would have such a huge effect on her in this cycle. If he knew that his presence would bring about such an outcome, he would rather choose to never meet her at all.

He had scoured the entirety of Natlan to search for her but had come up with nothing. He was then convinced that she really had done the crazy thing and had left Natlan. He even made a trip to Sumeru to try accessing the memories of Irminsul but due to the unique properties of Citlali being a Natlanese and how children of Natlan are unable to integrate with the leylines outside of Natlan, even the world tree bore no answer to her whereabouts. The only good thing about his trip to Sumeru was that he was able to end Nahida's suffering a little earlier, so at least it wasn't a trip of futility.

It didn't change the fact that Citlali's whereabouts remained unknown. It still gnawed at him even after more than a century had passed, because if Citlali had come to harm because of him it would eat at his conscience. He would never truly die and had far too many lives to live, but Citlali only has one life. If she lost her life because of him…

Hopefully she really could take care of herself.

He knew that he's running out of time. The war to end all wars would soon arrive. He had fully intended to do what he had done in his previous cycle to help Natlan and then finally depart from this cycle to head on to the next. He had clung on to the faint hope that he might meet Citlali again and reconcile their differences so that he could finally leave without regrets, but seeing things as it was, he's starting to believe that wish might never come to pass.

He could only hope that she will return home to Natlan after the war is over.

He patiently waited and wasn't kept waiting for long. Day was consumed by the darkness that engulfed Natlan in everlasting night. The six tribes had been warned in advance about the incoming invasion due to his presence and Mavuika's trust in his words, they are prepared to end a war with another war.

He saw how Natlan took up arms to fight against the Abyss once more. He saw members of the Fatui charging alongside them under the leadership of Capitano. He turned on his heels from where he was within the stadium and headed for the Sacred Flame instead of going out to engage the abyssal monsters in battle, walking past the Natlanese who were heading in the opposite direction which he's heading towards, weapons in hand and shouting their battlecries to fight for their beloved nation. The value of his cursed samsaric life would only be maximised if he could use it to kickstart the Night Wars to protect the people before Mavuika's plan could come into fruition.

He stood in front of the burning flame, took a few seconds to stare at it before finally lifting his right foot to step into it. He had done this once before, it wouldn't be too different this time.

His right foot hadn't even landed when he sensed the sudden attack aimed straight at him. He dodged out of reflex as shards of ice stabbed into the floor where he was last at. More rained down at him like a hail of arrows and Metstli called upon a flaming sword to destroy them with a single swing. He's now utterly confused. Why is there now somebody who's trying to target the Sacred Flame in this cycle? What changed?

"Still an idiot after a century, I see."

The direction which the voice came from had Metstli lifting his head. His eyes widened in both disbelief and shock when he identified the person who he believed would never get to meet again in this cycle floating high above and sitting lazily on Citlalin, but what's more shocking was her attire that clearly marked her affiliation with the Fatui.

"Why are you gawking at me like that? Yes, it's me, Citlali."

"You're back," a small smile graced Metstli's face even when a war was raging outside. "Welcome home."

"Not the best time to do so, but this is exactly why I chose to be back now of all times," she agreed and slowly floated down, landing gracefully on her feet to finally stand face-to-face with the only source of colour in her life. "If I hadn't stopped you, you really would sacrifice yourself for the Sacred Flame, wouldn't you?"

"It would maximise the value of my life. I will do it without regrets if it means saving the lives of many others."

"You…" Citlali looked like she might burst a vein but ultimately held herself back. "Nevermind, I figured this would happen a long time ago."

She held up her left palm and a strange fire bloomed in her hand, one so mystical yet also undoubtedly powerful. She threw that fire into the Sacred Flame and Metstli watched in awe and also confusion at how the Sacred Flame suddenly started roaring to life, blazing brighter than before.

"I told you that I will and I can find a way to save you from your foretold fate, but you didn't have faith in my abilities to save you. I hope what I did was sufficient for a demonstration. I foresaw a long time ago that you might want to foolishly sacrifice yourself to be burnt by the Sacred Flame and so I dove down into the Night Kingdom to retrieve the Turnfire. I was planning to use it as a substitute for your life. With the Turnfire, the Sacred Flame will continue to burn for a long while so don't go using yourself as fuel now. If you want to make yourself useful, go join the battle outside."

"Turnfire?" Metstli looked at her in disbelief of her accomplishment. The real Turnfire had disappeared after the fall of Och-Kan and legends spoke of how it's still burning in the Night Kingdom to this day, but nobody had ever managed to find it to verify the truth of the claim. The fact that Citlali had somehow not only managed to do so, but also brought it back to aid Natlan in the final war spoke of the lengths and effort she must have exerted to make this possible.

"Yes, I searched and brought the Turnfire back for you," she told him, gently holding his hand with hers with a smile. "I don't know why you feel that you have to shoulder the fate of the world on your shoulders simply because you have died thirty-seven other times. The fact that you can keep living on and on again doesn't mean your life is any cheaper than others, I just want you to understand that. I just want you to know that you don't have to shoulder the worst fate on behalf of everyone else because of whatever you are cursed with. You… don't have to fight alone."

She looked up at him, their eyes spotting their reflections in the other's eyes.

"As a former Pyro Archon, you should know better than I do that in Natlan, we do not fight alone."

The silence was broken with a soft laugh.

"Yes, I guess it was me who had too little faith in others. You were right, Citlali."

"Now, it wasn't so hard to admit your shortcomings, was it?" The great shaman smiled and turned her head towards the entrance. "The Night Wars would start soon once the Sacred Flame had fully devoured the power of the Turnfire. I don't know if the Turnfire would last long enough for Mavuika's plan to really succeed but in the event that it doesn't, then we will have to fight to keep casualties to a minimum."

"Now that I think about it, we never did fight alongside each other even after so long."

"Then be prepared to be awed by the power of Granny Itztli, the greatest shaman of the Masters of the Night-Wind," Citlali proclaimed and with a snap of her fingers, transported them into the sky above with her tribe's mystic arts that very few had ever mastered. Harsh frost started to swirl around them protectively while simultaneously existing in harmony with the oath of forgotten flames.

"Aim for those tumour-like entities. They act similarly to Abyssal Pylons."

"Got it."

The power of flames and frost washed over the battlefield in a frenzy, vengefully enacting their rage against the Abyss and bringing about destruction to enemies of Natlan. Warriors began to cheer when they spotted the famous Grandpa Tezcat finally joining in the battle, even if many wondered about the identity of the mysterious pink-haired woman who's fighting alongside him as his equal.

"Golden Wolflords!"

The cry of warning ahead caught the attention of the pair of long-lived members of the Mictlan tribe. Metstli had instantly charged ahead to meet these dangerous creatures in battle while Citlali summoned a freezing blizzard that followed close behind. Her spiritual powers allowed her to glimpse into the future.

"Don't use pyro! Use hydro!"

The unrelenting flames coating Metstli's sword instantly extinguished and what took its place was the smooth flowing water that turned deathly sharp under the hands of its wielder. The splendor of the Guhua Arts sliced the Wolflords' thick hide just as Citlali's merciless frost froze them over in an instant, stopping them in their tracks. Itzpapa then forcibly knocked Metstli aside at Citlali's command, much to his confusion, until he saw how a rift had suddenly torn right above him just as more tenebrous mimesis dropped down, quickly taking the form of powerful adversaries to take them down.

"There will be ten more appearing to your left in four seconds!"

Metstli had no idea what made Citlali so confident in her claim but he placed his full trust in her words, instantly summoning the power of anemo and sucked the monsters in front of him into a violent vortex, which couldn't evade his assault as they were being frozen solid. More tenebrous mimesis appeared to his left exactly four seconds later and he fired an electro-infused shot that he had already prepared in advance, striking his targets true.

"We need to vanquish all of them now within three seconds! Hurry!"

Burn to cinders

Metstli instantly got his sword to light itself aflame, using his strongest strike to cull the huge horde of monsters which he and Citlali had collectively immobilised in order to take them out in one fell swoop. He understood why Citlali asked him to eradicate them within three seconds after those three seconds were up after she quickly flew down and picked him up, allowing him to escape unscathed from an ambush from below, courtesy of a monster that took the form of a huge army of tepetlisaurs.

"I know you are a seer, but this…"

"I wasn't skiving away the past hundred years. If I wanted to save you from your fate I had to do what I can to glimpse into as many futures as I can," she answered. "I had learnt to master my ability to peer into the future such that I can now use it effectively in combat. All the possible deaths that I had foreseen you might experience in this final war, I will continuously subvert them for you so that you can finally live a normal life and die a natural death at the end of your mortal lifespan."

"You…"

"What? Touched to the point of tears? Don't worry, I'm not doing this for your sake, it's for my own. Life will be too boring if you went and got yourself killed like the idiot you usually are," Citlali huffed even if her rapidly reddening ears told a very different story. "Survive and see to the end of this war, Metstli, and then… let's go home."

"We will go home," he pledged with a smile as the power of the sun was reignited with the power of a forgotten oath. The immense power he wielded instantly brightening the dark skies and brought forth courage to the land with the light he emitted. He's the hero Ujasiri, the forgotten Pyro Archon Hunahpu.

He's here to guide Natlan to victory today in the hour of their darkest night.

The Sacred Flame burned in greater fury than ever, having just fully devoured the power of the Turnfire and finally started the Night Wars, granting all Natlanese with the protection of the Ode of Resurrection until Mavuika's plan could finally be enacted or if the power of the Turnfire had been fully consumed, whichever came first. Fireballs bloomed and rapidly dotted the skies of Natlan like miniature suns as the nation bore witness to Grandpa Tezcat's full strength for the first time in two hundred years since he made his home here.

Rekindle in ashes

"I-It's Grandpa Tezcat! W-We are saved!"

"W-Wait, Nokli, you came back? Weren't you…"

"I-I came back? I… I'm back! I'M BACK!"

"It's the Ode of Resurrection! The Night Wars are underway! But how?"

"This is Grandpa Tezcat speaking!" Metstli broadcasted his voice throughout the nation with a little help from Citlali and almost everyone in Natlan turned to look up to where he was hovering brightly in the sky. "We have managed to get the Night Wars temporarily underway with the power of Turnfire, so make full use of this brief opportunity to push our enemies back!"

Metstli made another powerful slash, obliterating a gigantic ruin guard in the distance that threatened to pursue a fleeing group of civilians. He raised his weapon and shouted a warcry that all of Natlan immediately followed.

"Charge! For Natlan!"

"FOR NATLAN!"

The fighting spirit of Natlan had been truly ignited. Fire burned brighter than ever as the tribes united as a single nation. Citlali watched in awe and surprise at how Metstli had so easily rallied everyone with a few sentences. Guess he really wasn't joking when he said that he used to be the Pyro Archon.

She winced when another vision hit her, one that made even her skin crawl in trepidation. If what she saw really is fated to happen, then…

"We need to hurry and head further up front! More powerful enemies will appear in less than a minute!"

"Where?!"

"Follow me!"

Citlali flew ahead with Metstli following close behind. She soon came to a stop just as a rift tore open and more tenebrous mimesis appeared to lay waste to the nation. However, this time, they did not take on the form of monsters.

"That's… Sanhaj? Menilek… Tupac…" Metstli whispered in gradual understanding and silent fuming anger when the monsters started taking on the forms of the previous Heroes of Natlan. The corrupted imitations of Natlan's greatest heroes wordlessly readied their weapons as the Abyss turned Natlan's greatest legends and hopes against the nation in this war.

"If they could use the original heroes' abilities then… this is bad," Citlali admitted with a frown. "We have to keep them here, if they advance any further and meet our warriors in battle…"

"Even the Night Wars won't keep them alive for too long. The more people the Ode of Resurrection had to bring back to life, the faster the Sacred Flame's power would deplete," Metstli agreed. "Let's hold them off here."

The hulking figure of the previous hero Umoja raised his gigantic hammer before smashing it down, summoning a tidal wave that Citlali instantly froze with the power of cryo. Wanjiru zipped forth with a burst of electro, locking blades with Metstli as the pair briefly danced among flashes of steel.

The blooming shield of ice protected Citlali and Metstli from the sudden thrust of Burkina's spear. The great shaman screamed with a determined shout and her powers rapidly rose, expelling the monsters backwards who had the audacity to take on the form of their greatest heroes and legends. Her ice was stalled by another blizzard when Sanhaj fought the merciless cold with even harsher cold, until Metstli forced them to back off once again with a fiery swing of his sword.

"Were they really so strong?!" Citlali cannot help but ask aloud when these "heroes" felt far stronger than she had imagined. It almost felt as if she was fighting people who were individually close to, or on the level of someone like Capitano himself.

"They are much more powerful than when they were alive! The power of the Abyss had enhanced their original power, be careful!"

A powerful border spell struck Metstli at that moment, who never had any talent in the spiritual arts of the Mictlan due to his spiritual insensitivity and hence was incapable of seeing it coming. The man who once single handedly turned the tide in the Battle of Mare Jivari 500 years ago was arguably the most credible threat to Natlan right now.

A righteous slash of ice blocked a sneaky ambush from the previous bearer of the Ancient Name of Vuka. The powerful punch from the First Harbinger pushed Menilek back as the abyssal copy of Vuka nimbly dodged Capitano's subsequent strikes and regrouped among the six reanimated heroes.

"Metstli, we meet again," Capitano greeted the warrior who earned his respect before giving Citlali a nod of acknowledgement as well. He readied his sword and pointed it towards the former Heroes of Natlan.

"Allow me to have the honours of assisting you in battle."

"Taking down Sanhaj is our priority. If the legends were true and that he really once summoned a miniature Night Kingdom and exploded it to defeat the Abyss…" Citlali trailed off and even Capitano's body language turned a little stiff after hearing that.

"That claim was true. I was around to witness his feat from afar 500 years ago."

"Then aim for Sanhaj," Metstli said as he pressed his palms together before slamming them down onto the ground. The ground quaked violently and massive stone steles rapidly rose into the air, triggering and forming a powerful seal capable of sealing even a dragon that once raged across the mountains. He intends to contain the destruction that will be brought forth from this battle to this area as much as possible.

"Citlali!"

"I don't need you to remind me!"

An ice storm was hurled right at the former heroes but Sanhaj effortlessly blocked it off with a border spell. Citlali clicked her tongue in annoyance before casting her own spell to neutralise Sanhaj's own, the great shamans that both hailed from the same tribe were quick to engage each other in a battle that showed no mercy, proving to the world why they were the greatest shamans of their respective times.

The earth quaked and the corroded reanimated form of Sundjatta lunged at Citlali. A black blur swiftly raised his sword to block Sundjatta's advance as The Captain pushed the former hero back with a low grunt. Fire raged and swept across the remaining four heroes as Metstli stalled their advance with unforgiving flames.

Two swift abyssal blurs zigzagged across the area, proving themselves to be devastating silent threats with their speed. Burkina and Wanjiru attempted to skewer Capitano with their weapons but Metstli was faster, invoking the blessings of the wind that he learnt from the adepti which allowed Capitano to move even swifter than before. Menilek leapt and slashed his sword down with his immeasurable strength, assisted by Tupac who flanked Metstli's side to crush him with his hammer.

Kamisato Art: Kyouka

A watery illusion took Menilek and Tupac's blow on Metstli's behalf. Metstli's sword quickly turned frosty as he lunged forward with a graceful slash.

Kamisato Art: Kabuki

Menilek was able to evade his strike but Tupac wasn't as swift. His hammer was broken into two pieces by the handle. A giant sword of ice fell down from above as Metstli commanded the ancient spells of the Liyue Thaumaturges to exorcise the abyssal taint that corroded their ancient heroes and turned them against the nation which they gave their lives up for to protect 500 years ago.

Thank you

The faint whispers of the former Umoja brushed past their ears and Citlali got increasingly enraged at the understanding of why they could hear Tupac's voice in the first place. The enemies in front of them… What they were fighting were not cheap imitations or mimics. It's as she had feared, the Abyss had stolen the memories and souls of their former heroes from the Night Kingdom, corrupted them, and sent them out to destroy the nation which they died trying to protect!

"Arrrghhh I am really angry now!"

Fire burst forth from the pyro delusion as the Harbinger Gianduja finally tapped into the power bestowed upon her by the Tsaritsa. The harmonisation of cursed fire and merciless frost screamed in a promise of vengeance against the darkness. Citlali's spiritual eye opened as she started to glimpse into the threads of the future once more.

"Pin down Sundjatta!"

Citlali's words barely left her mouth when Sundjatta did the impossible and rapidly grew in size, getting bigger and bigger until Metstli believed he had grown into the same size as those monstrously huge ruin guards that laid dormant at Sumeru's desert. Gigantic meteors fell from the heavens upon Metstli's command but the eroded Sundjatta easily smashed them into smithereens with the power of the abyss, raising his foot before stomping it down to try crushing them.

"Don't underestimate me!"

Cursed fire wreathed Sundjatta and was promptly joined by Metstli's own. The Captain hurled giant blocks of ice at Sunhaj, interrupting the shaman from invoking any of his spells. Citlali clasped her hands together, her lips quickly reciting a complicated incantation before shooting a cryo infused spell from her fingertips that struck the gigantic form of Sundjatta, causing him to fall just as Metstli drove his flaming sword right into his heart.

Natlan's war, win it for us

"Captain!"

Capitano lowered his head to dodge a slash from Menilek before quickly twisting his body to launch a powerful roundhouse kick, punting the former bearer of Vuka right into the path of Sundjatta's falling titanic body. The earth groaned and cracked as Sundjatta fell. Miniature suns lit up the skies above once more as Metstli sent them hurtling at the remaining reanimated heroes, who only seemed to grow stronger as time passed for reasons beyond their comprehension.

Transcend through the pain and suffering, you are close to seeing victory

"Mavuika's plan…! Are the six heroes not ready yet?!" Citlali shouted over the din when she sensed that the Turnfire which she fed into the Sacred Flame was about to deplete. Another powerful border spell hindered Capitano and Metstli's destructive attacks as Sanhaj quickly reminded them why he's the most credible threat on the battlefield.

"If what we are fighting are not just mere mimics, but the souls and memories of the true six heroes forcefully reanimated to life and enhanced by the power of the Abyss, then most likely, Mavuika's six heroes are unable to truly awaken for as long as they remain under the control of the Abyss," Metstli quickly hypothesised as Capitano clashed his sword against Burkina's spear. "If that is so, we need to hurry and take the remaining three down for Mavuika's plan to proceed."

Metstli crouched and closed his eyes, preparing to call upon a different form of fire that he hadn't used in a very long while. He reopened his eyes as the baleful fire of the crimson moon answered his summon and he lunged forward in a burst of speed, successfully disarming Wanjiru from the surprise attack.

Ancient mystic spells surrounded Wanjiru as Citlali conjured her tribe's sealing arts. Sanhaj moved to intervene only to be stopped by Capitano. The power of an ancient dynasty pierced Wanjiru through her heart, causing her to scream in pain before her body started to flake into dust as her scream gradually turned into a peaceful smile before she disappeared in death.

Fight on, you are nearly there.

A sword of water and a lance of ice appeared in Metstli's hands as he lunged, the ancient Guhua Arts bloomed in its full splendor before he called forth the might of the burning sun to bathe Burkina with the heat of a thousand suns. The former bearer of Malipo was far more powerful than Metstli remembered him to be when he was alive in his previous cycle. They could not afford to make a single mistake if they wanted to protect Natlan and win this final war.

Heck, at this point Metstli wouldn't even be surprised if this abyssal version of Burkina could slay an entity like Chi of Qingce all on his own.

"I knew that wouldn't put you down," Metstli muttered in mild annoyance when a burning Burkina leapt out of the blazing column of fire in a frenzied rage. Electro crackled around Metstli's body as he too matched Burkina's speed with his own. Powerful border spells were conjured to strike Metstli down but they were being swiftly neutralised by Citlali.

"Two steps to the right, then stab to your front!"

Metstli did as Citlali instructed and was pleasantly surprised that his weapon ran through the body of Sanhaj who had somehow been impaled by his sword. Capitano leapt in with a shout, beheading the former bearer of Bidii as a final act of mercy.

Natlan's wish, fulfil it in our stead

Cursed flames burst forth from Citlali as she merged the power of her delusion with her vision, the growing power capable of melting even the sturdiest steel into liquid. Burkina immediately tried to evade only to be blindsided by a stone stele that had suddenly risen from beneath him, trapping him just long enough to be engulfed by Citlali's power. Citlali curled her fingers when her prophetic visions warned her of another danger, prompting her to quickly manifest a wall of ice to block Burkina's last desperate act of vengeance against Metstli. She gritted her teeth at the strain of the amount of power she had to unleash and maintain at the same time but pushed on nonetheless.

She had endured the past hundred years, relentlessly honing her powers to the extreme all for today. That accursed fate that dictated that the colour of her life die a tragic death…

She will sever it

Burkina was vanquished as he parted from the world of the living with an anguished cry before that turned into whispers of thanks and blessings that brushed past their ears as a breeze of wind.

March on, to our final victory

A huge column of fire then burst forth from the stadium that shot up into the sky, blazing bright like the sun. Metstli couldn't help but smile. They had done it. They had managed to assist Mavuika to go through with her plan to awaken the six heroes of today.

Natlan… really could tide through this crisis all on her own.

"Urgh–!"

Metstli quickly caught Citlali when she suddenly stumbled on her feet. Her hand was pressing against her forehead in acute pain.

"You need to rest."

"No, I can't," Citlali shook her head. She had seen many tragic fates that could have befall Metstli and she's proud to say that she had managed to successfully weave a road for him to avoid most of it today. However, there's one final prophetic vision which she saw that she still had not yet seen even when they had now reached the climax of the war.

That's her greatest worry now.

"Metstli, Citlali, I will make a move first to rejoin our forces at the stadium."

"Understood. Thank you, Captain."

The Captain replied with a wordless grunt before quickly making his way back to the main battlefield. Citlali allowed herself to be carried on Metstli's back when the extreme exhaustion from using her delusion finally hit her. She raised her head, observing the big black gaping hole in the sky that was the main source of the ominous premonition that had been on her mind ever since the war started.

"Don't use the delusion after the war is over. It's not good for your health."

"Okay," she gave her promise with a tired sigh. The premonition still hadn't disappeared but no matter how she tried, she just was unable to peer far enough into the future to see what the premonition may be about nor could she see a way to help Metstli subvert the very last tragic future which she had glimpsed a hundred years ago.

Just what had she missed?

"I will drop you off at the stadium and then head back out to assist in the battle."

"You are not going anywhere without me. Knowing you, you are going to get yourself killed the moment my back is turned!" She growled into his ear.

"Why would I? I promised you that we will go home after the war is over."

"You…" Citlali was rendered speechless and her anger temporarily abated, but whatever she wanted to reply to him was lost when the skies suddenly screeched horrendously in pain and the earth cried in misery.

"What the…"

Fear gripped Citlali's heart when a huge winged draconic figure descended down from the black hole in the sky, holding two gigantic swords in its arms. The dragon roared as it raised a sword into the air before striking down, decimating an entire mountain range in an instant.

This image… was exactly the same as the very last vision she saw regarding one of the many possible ways Metstli would die.

"Gosoythoth–!" Even Metstli was worried about the sudden appearance of Gosoythoth right above the skies of Natlan. Citlali nervously bit on her lips but she knew that there's no way she would be able to stop him from heading right into battle against that winged abyssal dragon.

The only thing she could do now was to accompany him.

"Let's go," she told him as she popped a potent medicinal pill in her mouth to allow her to be able to continue fighting on and push past her limits in her exhausted state. She had no other choice right now, not when the stakes were so high. They didn't dare waste any more time and quickly flew towards Gosoythoth, who was already warring against Mavuika and Capitano right above the skies of Natlan.

"Kneel before the Abyss!"

Eroded flames were released from Gosoythoth's opened jaws. Citlali clenched her teeth and pressed her palms together before conjuring the largest icy shield she ever brought forth to life. She screamed in defiance despite the pain and strain, lasting just long enough for Metstli to hurriedly erect a sturdier shield of jade to support her desperate attempt of protecting the people down below on the ground.

A vengeful roar was heard and the Captain landed a slash on the huge figure from the Abyss. Mavuika burned with the power of a thousand suns as she wielded the weapon found from the Sacred Flame, matching Gosoythoth's strikes with her own.

'In two minutes, if things keep playing out as they did from my visions, Metstli will die,' Citlali could feel the tangible fear growing when everything was playing out in exactly the same way she had foreseen so many years ago. Metstli had already charged ahead to assist Mavuika and Capitano in battle. She saw how Gosoythoth's sword cleaved through the Sacred Flame burning bright in the stadium, snuffing it out and along with it, the hopes of Natlan.

No, not like this!

"The Sacred Flame–!"

"Look out!"

"Don't falter, hold the monsters back!"

Desperate shouts and cries started to permeate Natlan's forces with the reemergence of fear. Mavuika started to burn even brighter as did Metstli. Citlali moved, desperately flying ahead as fast as she could to prevent the foretold future from playing out before her very eyes.

Gosoythoth thrusted its sword, intending to impale Metstli, who's also fully intending to take on Gosoythoth's attack head-on in order to unleash the full blast of his power to severely wound it in a suicidal attack, one that would reignite hope and courage across Natlan. Citlali gritted her teeth as she crushed her delusion with her hand, unleashing the remaining power within while continuing to fly ahead.

Metstli raised his sword to cleave Gosoythoth as the heart of the Abyss thrusted his sword forward to impale the man. However, a pink blur had finally swiftly reached Metstli and forcefully knocked him aside as she took the fatal blow for him. The crimson red which she hated so much spilled from her mouth with uncontrollable coughs as she glared into Gosoythoth's eyes with undiluted hatred.

"CITLALI!"

The fire burning in her hands that remained after she crushed her delusion started to consume her whole, spreading across the sword which impaled her before quickly engulfing Gosoythoth with it as well. Her pyro delusion was a unique existence as it was made and created by the legendary flames of the Turnfire which she painstakingly brought back from the depths of the Night Kingdom, its very creation assisted by the Tsaritsa herself. These were the flames which were said to have brought Och-Kan's reign to an end.

"Go and die, bastard!"

Citlali's spiteful scream fuelled the Turnfire and dispelled the darkness surrounding them. Columns of fire burst forth and rained punishment down at Gosoythoth as Mavuika and Metstli quickly assisted her to bring Gosoythoth down as fast as possible. The righteous blade of The Captain broke the sword that Gosoythoth used to impale Citlali as she used the last of her strength to cast the remaining remnants of Turnfire she had back into the stadium where the Sacred Flame once burned.

Forgive me, o great Wayob, for turning my back on you a hundred years ago.

She heard Metstli screaming in rage and anguish as he swung his sword in a promise of vengeance. She saw the blazing figures of her Pyro Archon and the First Harbinger working together to bring down Natlan's greatest enemy. A soft smile graced the great shaman's face before she closed her eyes. Her body entered into free fall just as the Sacred Flame revived with a small spark before blazing back to life. The flames roared and consumed Citlali with it as she found the warmth of forgiveness from the Wayob in her last moments.

Her Wayob had forgiven her– No, her Wayob had never blamed her for leaving Natlan a hundred years ago.

"We are like birds, soaring through the horizons of time."

"I linger in verdant forests, skim across azure waves, soar over fiery magma, gather golden ore, and chase after pink-plumed flower-feathers."

"When twilight falls, my graffiti adorns the night sky."

"All that I depict shall be gifts, given to the world of the deceased."

"This was once my name, and it will be yours as well."

"Ukumbuko, 'Memory.'"

A dazzling gleam brightened the skies above the stadium as Citlali awoke with a violent gasp. She stood confusedly in the air amidst the burning flames, staring in disbelief and unable to comprehend the sight of an obsidian feather that was floating right in front of her. She hesitantly reached out for the feather and was only certain that this was real when she held her bestowed Ancient Name with her own hands.

Ukumbuko, "Memory".

A final shine of fiery light lit up the skies above her. Gosoythoth's pained scream was the last thing she heard before the night was dispelled and day returned to Natlan.

They had done it. Gosoythoth had been slain, the war had been won.

She had also done it. His destined fate had been averted.

–Tales of a Hundred Cycles, Vol XXXVIII

.

.

.

"G-Granny Itztli! I… I challenge you…!"

Citlali gave a disinterested yawn and promptly sent the young child running with tears in his eyes less than a minute later. She returned back to her home and sat down by the dining table with a satisfied sigh just as Metstli walked out of the kitchen with his delicious meat dishes which he had just cooked for them.

They enjoyed their meal together in comfortable silence. Her blackened hands told a story about the war she had fought just a few days ago, conveying the story of the cost she paid for victory and to prevent the colour of her life from fading out. Great power comes at a price, especially so for a delusion that was created from the legendary Turnfire.

Her lifespan had been massively shaved off such that she only had a few more years left, but she's content. All life had to meet their death one day, and she's glad that her life had much greater meaning and colour in her few remaining years as compared to the long meaningless one she experienced before meeting him.

"Hey, once we both recover from our wounds, let's go see the world," she told him. Now that the war was over it suddenly felt that the colours of the world were so much more vibrant than before. There's now so many colours she wanted to see and so many colours that she wanted to paint the world with.

"What's that sorry look for?" She scowled when Metstli remained silent, obviously guilty for being the reason why she now only had a few more years to live. "Now do you see? Now that you are on the receiving end of someone else's sacrifice, do you now see what kind of effect you leave behind on others who cared about you as much as you care for them? Hmph, that would teach you not to be a stupid martyr. You have been protecting other people for thirty-seven lifetimes, let people protect you too for a change. Wouldn't that be nice?"

"But you only have one life. I…"

"You only have one life too, one life in every cycle. You just happen to have the weird ability to carry forward your memories and power with you, that's all," she snorted. "Alright, stop putting up such a gloomy look in front of me. You look even gloomier than that Ororon kid. It's affecting my appetite."

"What if I turn back time for you?"

"Denied. I know that power of yours would shave off your life, so doing that would make my sacrifice and efforts for the past century meaningless," she rejected without hesitation and gracefully polished off the last of her meal on her plate. "If you really want to make it up to me, bring me all over Teyvat in my remaining years. All the colours in the world, I want to see them. My colour in your memories, I want it to be the most beautiful colour you would ever see. The world…"

She leaned forward, pressing her forehead against his. A sense of peace she never felt before enveloping her very being as she did so.

"Let's paint them in our colours, together."