Time of Departure
They all go on about ‘right person, wrong time,’ but it’s never ‘right person, not enough time.’
He, who had roamed and watched the world for over six thousand years.
He, who could turn the very earth of Teyvat into his weapon and mercilessly slaughter hundreds of gods without batting an eye.
Gods who could tear asunder the sea and sweep raging floods from where Liyue Harbor now stands, he had firmly stood against with towering, immovable walls of rock.
Gods who could ravage the plains with fire, he had snuffed their lives with pillars of rock that stretched out to the sky like hands in prayer.
He had outlived his greatest enemies, their corpses scattering to dust under the force of his onwards march. Overcame his greatest trials with time and the wisdom accrued from the passing of years.
But even then, he had also outlived his fondest memories.
He had outlived the Guili Assembly and the prosperous people who had once lived in what was now known as the Guili Plains. Though the descendants of those people now reside in Liyue, he too had outlived the need for divine oversight over the phenomenal hub of trade. They were presided over by the Liyue Qixing, people capable of bringing Liyue to greater heights.
As a result, he had outlived the need for his Gnosis, the unique authority of an Archon that was a sign of his status among gods as well as a source of additional power to enforce said authority. It was tied to his duty to guard Liyue.
Among all this, what had struck a bitter chord within him the most was that he, Zhongli, the Archon of Geo, had outlived his greatest friend for another three thousand years after her death in the Archon War. The man with piercing amber eyes cast a gaze across the stone-ridden plains.
“Perhaps...if time had permitted…” he mused to himself. His black waistcoat fluttered softly as if to urge him to finish that thought. A sigh escaped his lips as he gently closed his eyes, hiding away the somber bittersweetness within them, a sign of his weariness and the weight of the memories he carried. He idly thumbed the Memory of Dust in his gloved hand, watching a glaze lily wilt beside another, its petals scattering and its stem creaking until it finally gave in.
“This is the mark of our pledge, and it is my challenge to you. All of my wisdom is hidden within this stone dumbbell. If you can unlock it—.
A lonely smile so similar to Guizhong’s last one graced his lips.
“Really, a most painful challenge you have left me with Guizhong.”
“All the rest of eternity to spend on unlocking this contraption yet you are not here to watch me suffer through it.”