Ten Minutes Ago
After Zhongli left the lounge, Chuuya Nakahara fell silent.He sat in his seat like a well-behaved kid, but his sharp blue eyes kept sweeping the room—doors, windows, chandeliers, the counters, the guests—mentally mapping every possible threat.
"Chuuya-kun!"
"Whoa—!"
The sudden call made Chuuya jerk so sharply he nearly unleashed his ability right into Ranpo Edogawa's face.He grabbed the smaller boy's cheeks instead, leaning in and hissing through clenched teeth:
"I almost hurt you just now, you realize that?!"
After following Zhongli for so long, Ranpo had learned about the hidden world—abilities, curses, and things far stranger than most people would believe. He also knew Chuuya could crush him without effort.But fear? That wasn't in his dictionary.
With his face squished, Ranpo spoke in a muffled voice,
"Chuuya-kun's the only one allowed to hurt me!"
The mangled pronunciation made Chuuya groan. He let go, rubbing the red marks on Ranpo's cheeks.
"What are you even trying to do, huh?"
Ranpo leaned in, cupping a hand to his mouth as if sharing a state secret.
"Let's go catch the enemy together."
"…Hah?"
Chuuya blinked, then leaned back, frowning.
"Are you stupid? Zhongli told us to stay here and watch the guests."
"But…" Ranpo tilted his head, his green eyes glinting.
"If we don't go, it's not just the guests who'll be in trouble—we will too. And… well, I don't think the bride would appreciate having her wedding ruined. Not exactly a good way to start a marriage."
The last part made Chuuya's expression shift.
"…What did you just say?"
Ranpo sighed like a world-weary old man.
"The air's cursed. It's still faint now, but if it spreads through the ventilation system, everyone will be trapped breathing it. I doubt Zhongli wants that happening."
Chuuya knew Ranpo wasn't the type to throw out wild guesses. He reached for his phone—no signal.The enemy had cut communications.
"Tch." He hopped off the stool and grabbed Ranpo's wrist.
"Fine, then we find Zhongli—"
"No time!" Ranpo tugged back.
"He's in the kitchen. The culprit's heading for the main air-purification switch. It's the other side of the building—by the time we find him and double back, it'll be too late."
The venue was a remote nature-side hall, outfitted with modern air systems that ran through every room. One curse on the main pipeline, and the air would carry it everywhere in seconds.
"…Then what's the plan?"
"We stop him now. The lounge is halfway between the kitchen and the switch. If you run at full speed, we can catch him."
Chuuya narrowed his eyes.
"If he's just some curse-user, I can handle him."
Without further hesitation, they slipped out. No one noticed the two inconspicuous kids leaving amid the cheerful chatter.
They dodged past the registrar at the entrance, feeding her a quick excuse, then sprinted toward the power distribution room where the switch was housed.
The door was wide open. Inside, the shadows were thick. Chuuya's instincts tensed.
"…Are we too late?"
"No," Ranpo said, scanning. "The preconditions for a curse this strong take time. As long as we—"
"Oh? What do we have here? Two sneaky little mice."
The male voice was far too close.
Chuuya yanked Ranpo back just as a man stepped out of the shadows—ordinary clothes, black gloves, utterly forgettable face… except for the clean, surgical line of stitches running across his forehead.
Ranpo's casual look vanished.
"Chuuya—he's not an ability user."
The words hit harder than expected. Ranpo had always assumed they were dealing with a supernatural type—someone with rules, limits.But if this wasn't an ability user… then it was something else. Something unknown.
The man's gaze lingered on Chuuya.
"Such a massive energy load in a human body… fascinating."
"Don't know what you're talking about," Chuuya muttered, but the man was already deciding aloud:
"I'll take you back for study."
The word study triggered an instinctive recoil—something buried and ugly.
"You've got guts, saying that to my face."
Chuuya shoved Ranpo behind him and launched forward, red light coiling around his legs as he aimed a crushing kick for the man's chest.
The gloves shredded under the force, revealing skin marked with glowing sigils. His counterstrike was just as fast, forcing Chuuya to disengage and dodge.
"A sharp fighter," the man said almost pleasantly.
"Not flattered," Chuuya spat, attacking again.
Ranpo stayed behind the doorway, useless in a direct fight but tracking every move. The glowing marks boosted the man's limbs—strong enough to counter Chuuya's gravity manipulation. He could also imbue objects with curses…
Chuuya managed to bind the man's movement for a split second and kicked him across the face—
"Wait! Chuuya—!" Ranpo shouted too late.
The man's mouth opened, revealing runes carved into his tongue. A burst of fleshy, thorned growth erupted. One slammed into Chuuya's shoulder, reopening an old wound.
The impact drove him to the ground, bleeding heavily.
Ranpo's mind whirled.Why didn't you dodge?
Because Chuuya hadn't seen it. The man's ability didn't follow any system Chuuya knew—there'd been no telltale sign for him, but Ranpo had assumed there was.
The man kept his distance now, out of Chuuya's reach.
"Rigor," he said. "A lesson for you. Not that you'll need it where you're going."
A seal flashed in his hand—the carpet beneath Chuuya ignited.
"Sleep for a while."
Chuuya swore, but his body sagged under sudden exhaustion.
And then—
The stone flower at his neck blazed. The flames died instantly, talismans crumbling to ash. Crystalline growths erupted across the walls and floor, bypassing the children and spreading toward the man like frost given impossible speed.
The air itself felt heavier.The land had awakened—And it was furious.
---
Such a legend has always been whispered in the ancient port of Liyue.
The Rock King Dijun, ruler of the geo element, was said to be one with the land. The mountains were his bones, the veins of the earth his lifeblood. With every breath, hills would rise and sink; with each thought, the ground would shift and fold upon itself.
Of course, such tales are the language of reverence, heavy with embellishment. Yet no one doubts that Morax, the God of Geo, holds dominion over the land itself.
The spread of crystallization was merciless—within mere breaths, it caught the edge of the intruder's robes. Fabric stiffened, shimmered, and shattered into glittering shards.
It could not be allowed to go on. He needed to act.
Under a pressure like the weight of a mountain, the man's hands shook as he pulled talisman papers from his robes. But instead of pressing them to the crystal, he slapped one against his own back. Pain lanced through his body, forcing a tremor up his spine, blood spilling at the corners of his mouth.
Ignoring the damage to himself, he rode the brief surge of mobility the spell granted, leaping toward the uncorrupted ground in the rear—out of the crystal's reach.
"How could I let you escape—"
Fighting through the dizziness from blood loss, Chuuya Nakahara's small form braced, and his ability flared. Gravity spiked, yanking the off-guard intruder down hard. The man crashed into a floor already glazed in crystal.
Like starving piranhas, the yellowed shards swarmed upward.
A vicious click of the tongue. Without hesitation, the man sliced clean through both legs where the crystal had bitten. Talisman paper unfurled from his sleeves, wrapping into hollow prosthetic limbs. He landed just beyond the reach of corrosion, barely keeping his balance.
The sense of being locked in place vanished. He didn't spare a glance for the ochre-haired boy who had so recently been his prey—just dove through the side window in a spray of glass.
"Though he's the enemy," came a voice, calm but edged, "such ruthlessness and decisiveness deserve acknowledgment."
The shutters slammed closed with an eruption of stone, jagged edges jutting like spears. The man's retreat stuttered to a halt. Slowly, stiffly, he turned—eyes fixing on a tall, composed figure now standing beside the young gravity-user.
"Sir…" His voice tightened. Relief briefly flickered in Chuuya's eyes—only for his body, still nine years old and freshly out of captivity, to give in at last. Pain and exhaustion overcame him, and he pitched forward.
Into a warm, steady embrace.
Zhongli's arms closed around him with care, his voice deep and quiet. "Well done, Chuuya. You can rest now."
A gentle pulse of geo energy spread from his palm, knitting torn skin, sealing the grave wound in the boy's shoulder. Warm as spring water, it eased the ache in every muscle. Chuuya gave a faint hum of relief before slipping into sleep, breathing evening out in the familiar scent of stone and resin.
On the other side of the hall, Toji Zenin—still in a bloodstained wedding suit—was already trading blows with the intruder.
"Start with her? With scum like you?"
Like a territorial beast, Toji's strikes came with crushing physical force. Spell-enhanced wards could do little against a body honed to kill sorcerers; the man could only guard his vital points, no space to counterattack.
Not that he had come here to win a fight.
A misjudged angle sent him sprawling through a wall and into the open air. As Toji closed in, talismans whipped from the man's fingers, their disruptive energy forcing Toji to draw a sharp breath and slow.
He'd failed to capture the so-called "woman of heaven and curse," but new targets had presented themselves—gravity-wielding children, a man wielding power akin to the earth itself. Worth investigation.
He didn't make it far.
"Leaving so soon?"
The voice came from behind, followed by a whistling wind that bit through the air. He twisted aside, but not far enough—pain tore through his arm as blood fountained, half the limb hitting the ground.
The ochre-haired boy's doing.
Staggering, he moved to flee again—only to realize one talisman-forged leg was already turning to crystal.
A bloodstained spear pinned it to the earth before dissolving into golden motes. Zhongli stepped forward, conjuring another lance of radiant geo.
"Even for an uninvited guest, Mr. Zenin remains here. To let you leave would be poor hospitality," he said mildly.
"To be clear," Toji's smile was all teeth, "I'm no gentleman. My hospitality is for villains only."
The curse spirit on his shoulder—a hideous insectoid thing—vomited up a long blade into his waiting hand. Steel flashed, cutting toward the immobilized man.
His hand hit the ground—only to find it already crusting with yellow crystal. The knife slid home between his shoulders.
"What the hell… is this…?"
He coughed blood, staring up at Zhongli. The air itself seemed heavier, saturated with something older than spells, older than curses.
"No magic at all… What are you—"
"This body of yours, steeped in malice, was always unworthy of the earth's embrace," Zhongli said evenly. "The land is not cursing you—it is rejecting you."
Before he could reply, Zhongli's finger tapped the air. The wave spread silently, and the crystal bloomed, racing over him until his body and even thought itself froze.
In his final instant, he realized those golden eyes were not human.
And then—darkness.
…
By the time Toji kicked apart the crystal husk, it was too late. Zhongli's gaze lingered briefly before turning. "The mark of the rock is upon his soul. Even in flight, the laws will find him."
Toji snorted. "If he comes back, I'll kill him again. Nobody takes what's mine."
"This matter is settled, for now," Zhongli said. "You should change out of that suit. I have… personal matters to attend."
Toji's eyes flicked to the wall, where a black-haired boy was crouched protectively over a sleeping Chuuya. "…Hard raising kids," he muttered, and walked away.
Zhongli crossed to Edogawa Ranpo.
"Mr. Zhongli…" The boy's voice cracked, his tear-reddened eyes lifting. "Is this… the world you wanted me to see?"
Zhongli hesitated, then sighed. "No. And I regret showing you this way."
Ranpo's head shook. "No—it's my fault. My stubbornness, my arrogance… If I hadn't—Mr. Orange wouldn't be hurt, maybe dying! I knew there was a better way, but I—"
"Ranpo."
The man's arms encircled him, one hand rubbing comfort into his back. "You're still a child. Mistakes are part of growing. Until you can shoulder your world alone, I will be here."
At that, the thirteen-year-old broke, clinging to Zhongli's shoulder and sobbing as though to drain himself of grief.