Chapter Text
That night, the sky over Mondstadt was far too calm.
Too clean. Too pure. Like a mirror right before it shatters.
No bard’s song. No laughter from the wine stalls.
Lanterns swayed gently, as if the city's breath was caught in one long, trembling exhale.
Mondstadt… was holding its breath.
In front of the Favonius Cathedral, on the old stone podium usually reserved for festival announcements,
Jean stood. Upright only because she was not allowed to collapse.
Her hand clutched a letter, its edges worn and crushed from being gripped too tightly, too often.
Her eyes searched for no one. She stared blankly ahead, at the crowd frozen in silence.
When she opened her mouth, her voice sounded like a scream restrained:
“By the authority of Grand Master Varka and the results of the Knights of Favonius’ investigation…”
One second. Two seconds.
The next line hung in the air like an executioner hesitating before the swing.
“...Cavalry Captain Kaeya Alberich... is hereby declared a fugitive of the state.”
The explosion of broken trust made no sound, but it was deafening.
“Traitor?!”
“Kaeya? No way!”
“He once saved my child!”
The crowd erupted. Voices collided like crashing waves.
Jean tried to continue, her voice swallowed by the chaos of disbelief and denial.
“Visual evidence shows interactions with a Fatui Harbinger...
The exchange of classified documents… Sabotage of the northwestern outpost… All confirmed…”
Her hand clenched the paper like a blade—and she held it by the wrong end.
“The perpetrator’s identity is unquestionable. It is... Kaeya.”
And then came the silence.
A silence sharper than any scream.
From within the crowd, someone stepped forward.
Heavy footsteps. A black coat. That unmistakable flame-red hair.
His eyes burned like a crater freshly ignited in hell.
Diluc.
He said nothing, as if nothing had happened.
But Kaeya’s ruin exploded in the space where he stood.
“…Kaeya…?” It wasn’t a question. It was wreckage.
What came out of his mouth wasn’t a curse—but a laugh. Short. Cracked. Tragic.
“So... the mask finally falls, huh?”
His steps turned into stomps. Each strike of his boots on the plaza rang like a hammer of judgment.
He didn’t look back. He didn’t ask. He didn’t wait.
Mondstadt could only watch the back of a man who had now lost his brother twice in one lifetime.
And the night hardened.
As if all the lanterns still glowing… were merely waiting to go dark.
Kaeya’s name fell from the city’s lips like a curse that could not be undone.
Mondstadt—the city he once protected—
began to carve the word traitor into its walls, its whispers, its prayers for him.
And Jean remained standing there, her body still rigid.
She had delivered the sentence.
But no one knew who truly died that night—
Kaeya, or hope.