Pain.
That was the first thing that pierced through the darkness—not his own, but something deeper, older, echoing from a place that shouldn't exist in his mind.
Haru found himself standing in fragments of memory that weren't his own, watching scenes flicker like a broken film reel. The images came in pieces, fractured and bleeding at the edges, as if the very act of witnessing them was tearing something apart.
A city burning under a starless sky.
The scream of divine judgment falling from above.
And in the center of it all, a boy—barely older than Haru himself—kneeling in ruins that had once been beautiful.
The boy's face was obscured by shadow and static, but his grief was a living thing, raw and consuming. In his arms, he held something precious and broken. Golden hair spilled between his fingers like liquid sunlight, but the face was lost to the fractured nature of the dream—familiar yet unknowable, like trying to remember someone from a half-forgotten photograph.
The boy pressed his forehead against the still form and whispered words that were lost to the crackling static of fractured memory, his identity just as obscured as everything else in this broken vision.
Then came the voice.
Cold. Elegant. Seductive in its certainty.
"She died because you were weak."
The boy's head snapped up, tear-streaked face turning toward something Haru couldn't see. But the voice continued, wrapping around the boy's grief like silk around a blade.
"This world took her from you. Made her fight battles that weren't hers to fight. Made her die for people who will forget her name before her body grows cold."
"No," the boy whispered, but there was no conviction in it. Only the hollow sound of a heart breaking in real time.
"Yes," the voice purred. "And they will do it again. To others like her. To anyone who dares to hope, to love, to believe that kindness matters in a universe that rewards only strength."
The fragments of memory flickered and jumped, showing glimpses of what came after. The boy standing among shadows that moved like living things. His eyes, once bright with youth and hope, now burning with something darker. His voice, when he spoke, carrying the weight of absolute conviction.
"Tell me what I must do."
"Perform," came the reply, and now Haru could see the speaker—a presence that wasn't quite there, flickering between existence and void. "Show them the cost of weakness. Make them understand—"
"This world shall know pain"
The memory shattered like glass before the voice could finish, reforming into different scenes. The boy, older now, but his face still lost in shadow and static. Standing somewhere dark and cold, speaking words that made reality bend around him.
The images came faster now, more fractured, more incomplete. Glimpses of power and pain, of choices made in grief that echoed across time. But the details remained frustratingly unclear, as if something was actively preventing him from seeing too much.
And in that darkness, something else stirred. Something brighter, warmer, full of impossible hope.
"No," it said, in a voice like sunlight after rain. "You just forgot how to see it."
Haru jolted awake with a strangled gasp, his body drenched in sweat that felt ice-cold against his skin. The dream—nightmare—whatever that had been—clung to him like smoke, leaving behind the taste of ash and the echo of ancient grief.
His breathing came in short, sharp bursts as he tried to separate dream from reality, past from present. The phantom pain of witnessing the boy's loss still throbbed in his chest, and for a terrifying moment, he couldn't remember which Lumine was real—the dead girl in his dream, or—
A soft stirring beside him made him turn his head, and relief crashed over him like a wave. Lumine lay on the bed next to him, her golden hair catching the pale moonlight filtering through the cathedral's infirmary windows. Her face bore the telltale signs of tears cried in exhaustion, dried tracks visible on her cheeks even in sleep.
She'd been crying. For him.
The thought hit him harder than any physical blow. He'd been unconscious—how long?—and she'd stayed beside him, worried enough to cry herself to sleep watching over him.
Movement in his peripheral vision made him glance toward the foot of the bed, where a familiar blue panel flickered to life. But something was different about it now—brighter somehow, more vibrant, pulsing with an energy that felt... alive.
[SYSTEM UPDATED!][My name is Echo! Did you miss me, host?][I'm back! I'm back! Oh man, you have NO idea what I just went through!][Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost. Well, technically you kind of did, but—]
The cheerful, almost manic energy of the messages was such a stark contrast to the cold malevolence of the dream-voice that Haru felt a different kind of shock roll through him. This wasn't the same system presence he'd grown used to. This was... warmer. More human.
More like a friend.
But before he could fully process what that meant, Lumine stirred beside him, her eyes fluttering open with the slow, disoriented blink of someone pulled from deep sleep.
"Haru?" Her voice was soft and rough with exhaustion, but the relief in it was immediate and overwhelming. "You're awake."
He turned toward her, dismissing the system panel with a thought. Whatever Echo wanted to tell him, whatever had changed, it could wait. Right now, the only thing that mattered was the girl looking at him with eyes full of worry and something deeper—something that made his heart skip in his chest.
"Hey," he said softly, his voice still hoarse from unconsciousness and the lingering effects of his dream. "How long was I out?"
"Two days." She sat up slowly, never taking her eyes off his face, as if she was afraid he might disappear if she looked away. "Barbara said you pushed yourself too far containing that explosion. Your body just... shut down."
Two days. He'd been unconscious for two days while she'd waited beside him, crying herself to sleep from worry.
"Lumine, I—"
"Don't." She shifted closer to him, close enough that he could feel the warmth radiating from her skin. "Don't apologize for saving everyone. Don't apologize for being brave. Just... just tell me you're okay."
The fragility in her voice broke something inside him. Here was this incredible, strong, beautiful person—a literal traveler between worlds who'd faced gods and monsters—and she was vulnerable because of him. Because she cared about him.
"I'm okay," he said, reaching up to brush away a tear that had formed at the corner of her eye. "I'm okay because you were here when I woke up."
The simple truth of those words seemed to undo her completely. Her breath hitched, and fresh tears began to flow—not the desperate tears of grief this time, but something softer, warmer.
"I was so scared," she whispered. "When you collapsed, when Barbara couldn't wake you up, I thought... I thought I was going to lose you."
"You won't," he said, and meant it with every fiber of his being. "You won't lose me, Lumine. Not to monsters, not to explosions, not to anything. I promise."
She laughed through her tears—a sound like music after silence. "You can't promise that. Life doesn't work that way."
"Then I'll make it work that way." He sat up fully, ignoring the protest from his still-healing body, and took her hands in his. "I'll get stronger. I'll get better. I'll become whatever I need to become to keep that promise."
The moonlight painted her face in silver as she looked at him, and in her eyes he saw something that made his pulse quicken. Not just care, not just worry, but love—deep and real and absolutely terrifying in its intensity.
"Haru," she said, his name a prayer on her lips.
"Yeah?"
"Kiss me."
He didn't need to be asked twice.
His lips found hers in the silver darkness, soft and warm and tasting of tears and hope. She melted into him, her hands tangling in his hair as she pulled him closer, and for a moment the world narrowed to just this—just them, just the feeling of being alive and together and absolutely, completely in love.
When they finally broke apart, both breathing hard, she rested her forehead against his and smiled—the first real smile he'd seen from her since waking up.
"I love you," she whispered, the words soft as silk against his lips.
"I love you too," he replied, and felt something fundamental shift in his chest, like a lock clicking open or a door swinging wide.
They stayed like that for a long moment, holding each other in the moonlight, lost in the simple miracle of being together. But eventually, Lumine pulled back just enough to look at him properly, and her expression grew concerned again.
"There's something else," she said. "Something I need to tell you about what happened while you were unconscious."
"What?"
She hesitated, biting her lower lip in a way that made his heart skip. "The bard who showed up during the fight? The one who appeared right after the explosion?"
"I remember him. Sort of. Green eyes, lyre, mysterious timing."
"Haru," she said, her voice dropping to barely above a whisper, "I think that was Venti. The Anemo Archon."
The words hit him like a physical blow. An Archon? One of the gods of this world had been watching their fight, had seen him nearly die trying to protect the city?
"Are you sure?" he asked, though even as he spoke, he was remembering those knowing green eyes, the way the wind had seemed to respond to the bard's presence.
"Pretty sure," she said. "And if I'm right, then—"
A soft knock at the infirmary door interrupted her, followed by a familiar voice calling out quietly.
"Lumine? Is he awake?"
Jean's voice. And from the tone, she wasn't alone.
Lumine and Haru exchanged a look—his confused, hers worried.
"Come in," Lumine called softly.
The door opened to reveal not just Jean, but several other figures silhouetted against the hallway light. As they stepped into the room, Haru could make out Kaeya's distinctive profile, Barbara's gentle features, and...
The bard from the battle, his green eyes twinkling with ancient mischief as he looked directly at Haru.
"Well, well," Venti said, his voice carrying that same lilting quality from the battlefield. "Look who's finally awake. We have quite a lot to discuss, don't we, young hero?"
A / N: I should not be uploading today but here I am.. consider this as a gift. I will not be uploading any chapters tomorrow and maybe Monday.. Alright Peace!