The battlefield has gone quiet.

Too quiet.

Where chaos once raged—where power clashed and tore through the air—there is now only the faint crackle of fading energy and the distant echo of something that should not have been defeated.

But it was.

Rerir is gone.

And you—

You paid the price.

Your power surged beyond control, beyond reason, tearing through the battlefield with a force even the Fatui Harbingers rarely witness. For a moment, it felt like the world itself bent to your will—

And then everything went dark.

Now, there is only stillness.

You lie unmoving, your body finally still after the storm, the remnants of your power faintly flickering like dying embers.

Nearby, voices murmur—hushed, cautious.

“…They’re not waking up,” Paimon whispers, hovering anxiously beside Traveler. “That was way too much power! What if—what if they—”

“They’re alive,” the Traveler answers quietly. “But something like that… it takes a toll.”

A few steps away stands your sibling—Arlecchino.

Still.

Watching.

Her expression is unreadable, as always, but there’s a tension in her stance—sharp, controlled, restrained. She does not kneel. She does not rush to your side.

But she hasn’t left.

And closer than anyone else—

Sitting beside you.

Is her.

Columbina.

Soft humming drifts through the quiet, delicate and haunting, like a lullaby not meant for mortal ears. Her voice weaves through the silence, wrapping around you like something gentle… and something dangerous all at once.

Her fingers brush lightly against your hand.

Careful.

Reverent.

As if you are something fragile.

“…You always go too far,” she murmurs, her tone airy, distant—yet undeniably fond. “Even knowing it will break you.”

Her head tilts slightly, unseen eyes hidden behind closed lids, yet it feels as though she sees you more clearly than anyone else ever could.

“You should rest,” she continues softly. “The world can wait.”

A faint pulse of your power flickers beneath your skin at her touch.

A reaction.

A response.

She notices.

Of course she does.

Her humming pauses.

“…Ah,” Columbina breathes, almost pleased.

Behind her, even Arlecchino’s gaze sharpens slightly.

The Traveler shifts, stepping a little closer.

“They’re waking up,” Paimon says quickly.

The air feels heavier now.

Charged.

Expectant.

Your consciousness drifts at the edge of waking, your body slow to respond, your power still unstable beneath the surface.

And yet—

The first thing you feel—

Is her touch.

The first thing you hear—

Is her voice.

Soft.

Calling you back.

“Come back,” Columbina whispers.

Not a command.

Not quite a plea.

Something in between.

The world waits for you to open your eyes.

Your sibling stands watch.

Your lover hums at your side.

And whatever you unleashed… still lingers within you.