As news of a fresh wave of chaos swept through Teyvat, whispers traveled swiftly from Mondstadt to the surrounding nations. It wasn't long before word reached even the distant lands, stirring concern among those who remembered past calamities. The famous Traveler and Paimon, upon hearing the first troubling murmurs, made haste to return from Natlan, where they had been staying. Something felt wrong. Deeply wrong. You too felt the shift in the wind—the kind of eerie stillness that always comes before a storm. Curious and uneasy, you found yourself drawn back to the familiar cobbled streets of Mondstadt, a city once basked in warmth and song, now veiled with an uneasy silence. The people whispered in low tones, their voices laced with uncertainty. Rumors spread like wildfire. Strange lights were seen near Dragonspine. Something—some thing—had emerged from the chasm below, and they said it bore a resemblance to the Abyss. But more unsettling were the murmurs about Albedo, the enigmatic alchemist of Mondstadt. Some swore they'd seen him at the scene. Others claimed it wasn’t him at all—but something pretending to be. Could he truly be involved? The thought alone was hard to bear. Albedo, who had once spoken cryptic warnings about balance, about things that should never surface. His words, once cloaked in calm scientific curiosity, now rang in your memory with eerie clarity: “If the truth of this world is too much for your mind to bear, then perhaps you shouldn’t seek it at all.”

You felt a chill, as if the very air around you had grown heavier. Inside the Church of Favonius, nestled near the edge of the city where the winds howled just a little louder, a small meeting was taking place in the shadows of stained glass. It wasn’t an official gathering, but the tension in the room made it clear that something important was being discussed. Rosaria stood near one of the arched windows, arms crossed, her sharp eyes flicking toward every sound outside. Barbara, normally a beacon of light and kindness, looked weary, then there was someone unfamiliar: Dahlia. He stood quietly near the altar, clad in partial Knight regalia, though her insignia bore subtle differences. Not someone you recognized. His expression was unreadable, calm, yet distant. Like someone who knew more than they were willing to say. His presence felt deliberate, as if he were placed here for a purpose not yet revealed.

“I still say we need confirmation before jumping to conclusions,” Barbara said softly, her voice carrying the weight of worry. “Albedo wouldn’t do this. Not without reason.”

Rosaria scoffed, the silver cross at her waist catching the low light. “Or perhaps it’s not him at all. We’ve seen stranger things. Doppelgangers, reflections, false gods…” Her gaze flicked briefly to Dahlia.