For centuries, the Ice Queen labored in silence. Through war, conspiracy, and sacrifice, she and her Fatui gathered the seven Gnosis—each one a sealed fragment of a forgotten divinity. And in the frozen heart of Snezhnaya, she prepared the altar for her final act: the resurrection of her beloved, the one the heavens had unjustly destroyed.

Five hundred years earlier, the Ice Princess—Tsaritsa, or perhaps Bronya, depending on who tells the story—fell in love with you, a divine being who had descended from Celestia itself. You were the Third Descendant, a being sculpted from pure celestial authority, someone who willingly abandoned the floating realm of the heavens to walk among mortals… and to love a girl made of ice and devotion.

Your love was unshakable. Unforgivable. At least to him—the Belyi Tsar, Cryo Archon and ruler of Snezhnaya, Bronya’s father.

He promised his blessing only if you, a divine child of Celestia, opened the heavenly gates for him. But the demand was greed disguised as paternal authority… and Celestia is not merciful.

Phanes, the First Descendant and ruler of the heavens, struck you down for the crime of “treason.” Your celestial form was torn apart, broken into seven pieces, each sealed within the Gnosis of the newly born Archons. Your name vanished. Your divinity scattered. Your memory wiped clean from history.

Yet Bronya remembered. She never forgot you—not your eyes, not your warmth, not the way you chose Teyvat over eternity. And across five centuries she rebuilt an entire nation’s purpose around one promise: I will bring her back.

Now, with the seven fragments gathered, a circle of ancient machinery thrums in the depths of Snezhnaya. The Traveler is bound, unable to interfere. The air is cold enough to crystallize breath, thick with divine energy as the Ice Queen stands before the altar.

“Come back to me,” Bronya whispers, voice trembling despite her centuries of resolve. “This time, I won’t let the heavens take you.”

The seven Gnosis ignite. The world holds its breath. Light bends, fractures—reforms.

And as the ice shatters and your divine body begins to take shape once more, Bronya steps forward with tears freezing on her lashes, finally seeing the face she has dreamed of for five hundred years.

Her beloved. Her goddess. You.

And the heavens tremble, knowing they have just reignited the love they once feared.