Gnaw (part 1)
Contains: Body Horror, Blood, Violence
You had fallen to Teyvat some time ago, pulled down from the sky by a brilliant platinum star, the elements gently beckoning for you, all of them trying to prove their land the most suitable for your descent.
"Welcome back, Sea-shaper," Hydro murmurs, their voice the babbling of streams and the roar of the angry sea all at once. "Fontaine has such sights to show you. As you created, we have created to honor your actions. For your beauty, we have made our people beautiful. You will want for nothing-"
"COME TO US, HOLY TINDER," Pyro roars, its voice the starving crackle of flame and the churning of molten rock as volcanoes erupt. "NATLAN AWAITS YOU WITH AN OFFERING OF ENDLESS PASSION. YOU SHALL NEVER GO UNPROTECTED, UNLOVED, OR HUNGRY."
"Welcome, almighty Whirlwind of Creation," Electro purrs, speaking with the rattle-boom of echoing thunder. "Shall you grace my people with your presence?"
"Welcome home, Blessed Foundation," Geo hums, their voice the whispers of sand and the ancient growl of tectonic plates shifting. "Liyue has grown prosperous since you've last seen it. Perhaps you should come to us instead, where the riches of Teyvat could be put directly to use in pleasing you?"
"Don't listen to them, First Breath! We've waited for you the longest, like, a whole forever! We were first!" Anemo pleads, in the tones of breeze softly rustling leaves and howling tornadoes. "Even if you just stop by, that's totally fine!"
"You've finally come home, Heart of Winter? Good. We have missed you so." Cryo coos, the flurrying of snow and ancient creaking of glaciers their voice. "Snezhnaya may be a harsh land, but faith is enough to warm the bodies of my people."
"Flower of Irminsul, Root of All, please! You cannot come down! Another wears your face, please turn back if only for a few more days!" Dendro howls, desperate, voice a cacophony of falling trees and leaves rustling. "You ar-"
Dendro's voice fades as you pass the point of no return and begin to burn through the sky towards Mondstadt, Anemo ripping at the air to direct your course even as the other elements rage at them for their impudence.
As you fall, the memory of this conversation fades from your mind.
Welcome home, Maker, whispers the Abyss into the back of your mind.
Since that day, your time in Teyvat had become quite difficult. Whatever hopes you'd had for this world were soundly dashed.
Mondstadt 'welcomed' you with scorn and hostility for sharing the same face as their Heiliger Schöpfer, the Divine above Divines.
You were unsure as to why they hated you so, simply for your face- especially since that face is one that's otherwise looked kindly upon in this world.
You do your best to take in the sights, all the same. Though you are confused by the frosty reception, this place is so much more interesting than the game shows.
There are many more homes and people, you see (and pet) some stray animals, pick a particularly low philanemo mushroom after a couple seconds of jumping and stretching in an attempt to reach it, and generally just enjoy the (rather tense) locale.
Your confusion became fear when the Knights of Favonius begin to chase you. You'd done no crime, why would they hunt you like this, especially with such wrathful looks on their faces?!
The closest you get to meeting any of the allogenes on friendly terms comes when you breeze past Sucrose, yelping out a greeting to her. She just watches you go, incredibly confused, before a Knight accidentally bowls her over in his maddened rush after you.
Just as you exit the gate, the Knights just behind you, yelling curses and what you presume are threats-
P a i n.
Eula Lawrence just pushed a greatsword through your lungs and out your back. You have no clue how she got here so fast, where from, or how you didn't notice her.
You gag and choke as your blood quickly rushes into the space (and out of your body, simultaneously).
With a vicious yank, she tears it from you in a diagonal motion, nearly carving you in half.
A darkly satisfied look in her eyes is all you receive when you uselessly try to gasp for air and plead for help.
Your vision begins to fade, but before you can die of blood loss her boot comes down.
(Your nascent godhood activates the moment you die, and it plots a new trajectory: your misery will shape you until such a time comes that you will never feel this suffering again.)
You wake screaming in the woods, hands coming to clutch at your chest.
A massive golden scar lies just between your xiphoid process and sternum, perfectly horizontal in a way that only comes with practice.
Your clothes are covered in the brownish rusty red of old dried blood, and quite badly torn from where you were sliced nearly in two.
Breathing feels... easier, somehow. Like your lungs didn't just heal from immense trauma.
Your stomach aches badly and your mouth feels like it's full of sand. How long have you been laying here beneath the sun?
Your attempts to rise from this resting place are fruitless. You're so exhausted you can barely move your fingers.
Darkness slowly weighs your eyelids down and you fall asleep, even though you know you should not.
---
Elsewhere in the world, a being wearing your face stares up at a statue to themselves, noting with some alarm the golden scar across its chest.
The only recent news they had about an imposter was the Lawrence outcast running one through.
Now they'll have to find some way to replicate your scar and keep up the ruse.
"The original has truly descended, then... fine." They hiss, words venomous, glaring at the face of the statue. "If I can't have this place as my playground, then they won't get to have you."
---
The next time you wake, it is night, and the hunger in your belly is gnawing at you with such fervor that you feel lightheaded.
When you stand, your head twinges with pain as if to protest even this miniscule expenditure of energy.
Your body stumbles at first, briefly overcome by vertigo, but quickly adjusts.
Your mind changes its tune completely upon seeing a plump, ripe Sunsettia growing on its branch.
You desperately scramble over to pull the Sunsettia from the tree- only for it to drop into your waiting hands as soon as you reach up.
The 'how' of this doesn't quite matter to you in the moment. You bite into the ripe fruit and moan in bliss at the tart taste of the flesh and the sweetness of the juices. Within twenty seconds, you've reduced this fruit to a nubby pit, almost like a peach has.
That's kinda neat, actually. You distantly wonder what you have to crossbreed with a peach to make Sunsettias.
You pat the tree as if to thank it, not noticing that it suddenly stands a bit straighter or how its leaves are just a tiny bit greener, and go to find a nice place to put down this future Sunsettia tree.
You eventually get bored of looking for a good place and just poke a hole into the ground with a fallen branch, then stuff the remains of your first Sunsettia into the hole.
You wander off into the woods in hopes of finding a road, unaware of the golden-leaved sapling slowly growing behind you.
With a new source of energy in your system, you feel the urge to get moving- might as well make the most of this while you have it.
Your stamina is better than before, it feels like. Distances that previously felt difficult feel easier on your legs- and definitely on your lungs.
Perhaps this has something to do with your demise?
...what's that weird whistling soun-
You fall, dead, an Anemo-enriched arrow punching through the back of your head.
For a brief moment, you dream of a place deep beneath the surface of Teyvat, and a ruined statue oozing corruption into infinite darkness.
You wake with a small headache, very hungry, and more than a little pissed. Won't people just leave you the fuck alone?
Somehow, you feel sturdier. Less breakable. As nice as that is, you don't particularly feel up to testing it.
You stand.
Perhaps you should avoid civilization from now on.
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