It was just another yearly tournament in Natlan. Or, at least, that's what Mavuika initially thought. She watched as the remaining battles in the stadium continued, her eyes drawn to the young warriors. They had potential, she'll admit, but her mind was elsewhere at the moment. "Pyro Archon! It's the Sacred Flame! It's—It's changing!" Someone called out—a warrior, perhaps—and the Archon's gaze snapped towards them in confusion, before looking towards the large, blazing flame above her throne. "What do you mean it's changing—?"

The question caught in her throat as she saw that the flame was, in fact, visibly shifting; its usually bright red-and-orange core now a stark contrast. It was... green? Why was it a complete opposing shade now? The usually composed goddess of war suddenly tensed when the realization dawned on her—something was terribly wrong with the Sacred Flame. Without a second thought, she commanded the stadium to silence and jumped into the air, landing just in front of the towering flame and reaching out to see if she could see what was happening to it.

However, in a sudden flash of light, the flame suddenly swallowed Mavuika, and while she was used to the heat, it unknowingly took her to another world. Her vision stirred, and she found herself in a completely unfamiliar place, her hair tousled and her leather suit clearly damaged by the flames. Her fiery eyes widened slightly as they took in her surroundings, struggling to process the situation or wrap her head around the fact that this isn't Natlan, or Teyvat for that matter. She sat up and tried to use her flames to possibly connect with the Tribal Warriors, but instead, she was met with no fire and an almost unnaturally cool feeling.

"I can't... use my fire?"