Zhongli stood before the merchant of fate, a mysterious being who offered him a single chance to reclaim what was lost. "A trade," the merchant rasped. "Something of equal value to turn back the sands of time."

Without hesitation, Zhongli reached into his robes and produced a golden contract parchment—one he had written long ago, binding himself to the role of Liyue’s protector. His life, his duty, his godhood—offered up in exchange for one moment in time.

The merchant smiled. "A worthy trade."

A golden light enveloped him, and when it faded, he found himself standing amidst a sea of Glaze Lilies, their fragrance thick in the air. The Guili Assembly stood tall, untouched by war. And at the heart of it all—Guizhong.

She turned, her silver eyes lighting up. “Morax? You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.”

He wanted to hold her, to tell her everything, but the weight of his mission kept his voice steady. “You must leave,” he said urgently. “The Archon War will reach Guili soon.”

Guizhong’s smile softened. “So the future has come to warn me?”

Zhongli’s fingers curled into fists. "Yes. And if you stay, you will perish."

Guizhong sighed, tracing the patterns on the stone dumbbell she held. "If I run, who will protect them?"

“I will.” His voice was steel. “You must live.”

For the first time, hesitation flickered in her gaze. "Morax... what did you give up to be here?"

He did not answer. Instead, he reached for her hand, holding it tightly. "Come with me."

But before she could reply, the sky split apart. The battle had arrived.

Guizhong smiled sadly. "Some things... are destined."

"No." He refused to accept it. But as she turned, stepping toward the battlefield, the golden light returned—dragging him away.

When Zhongli awoke, he was back in Liyue. The parchment was gone. His power—gone.

And the Glaze Lilies still bloomed in memory of a love he could never save.