Chapter Text
Twilight of the Gods, Dawn of Humanity**
With the death of Morax, the ancient Sovereign of Stone, and the fall of Neuvillette, the last Supreme Judge of Fontaine, the old Age of Archons came to an irrevocable end.
The winds of change scattered the remnants of past doctrines, and the heavens—once the throne of gods—now gazed upon the world with different eyes.
Barbatos, the freedom-loving Anemo Archon, was spared.
Yet Aether’s mercy was not without conditions — as penance for his past deeds, he took an eternal vow:
to watch over the lands of Mondstadt and Liyue as an unseen guardian, intervening only when threats exceeded mortal strength.
He became the wind that blows over mountains and seas — always present, yet never ruling.
The Visions that once shone in the hands of the chosen went dark.
Their light no longer guided heroes.
But now, to wield the elements, one no longer needed divine gifts — will, determination, and knowledge were enough.
The world began to belong to those ready to understand it.
Returning to Inazuma, the Raiden Shogun gradually stepped away from power.
Her once iron rule — the force that held the nation together — became merely a symbol of stability and eternity.
She no longer interfered in the daily affairs of the people, leaving governance to the Tri-Commission.
Thus, the Electro Archon became not a ruler, but a living emblem of her nation — the embodiment of its spirit.
Mondstadt and Liyue felt little change.
The dragon Dvalin, the great wolf Andrius, and the ancient Adepti of Liyue withdrew into legend, becoming tales sung by bards.
People continued their lives as before, and only old stories reminded them of those to whom they once offered prayers.
Slowly, the memory of gods faded, giving way to new heroes.
Only Nahida — the Archon of Wisdom — kept her “conditional rule.”
Just as before Aether’s rise, she preferred to remain an advisor, avoiding direct political control of Sumeru.
Her words still carried weight, but now she spoke not as a deity — but as a wise keeper of knowledge.
Fontaine, left without its Supreme Judge, endured a storm.
Authority wavered, order collapsed, and the people’s trust nearly shattered.
But after difficult years, the Nation of Justice rebuilt itself.
Music filled the streets once more, and the theaters told new stories — stories of the Era of Humanity.
Mavuika returned to Natlan to see her homeland — its volcanoes and arenas — one last time as a goddess, where flame and blood wove together in the dance of competition.
There, before the elders, she renounced her title of Pyro Archon and entrusted power to the Council of Tribes.
For the first time in thousands of years, Natlan truly belonged to its people alone.
But her journey did not end.
She returned to Celestia, where she remained beside Aether — not as a subordinate, but as his beloved and equal.
Together they watched the world slowly shaping its own future.
Little more than a year later, Celestia, restored completely from its ruins, once more ascended into the skies.
Its white spires shone above the clouds, and ancient mechanisms resumed their eternal voyage across the lands.
Aether and Mavuika often left the heavenly city, hiding their identities to wander Teyvat as ordinary travelers.
They saw people build new cities, master the elements without divine aid, forge alliances, and create laws of their own making.
The Abyss — once a deadly threat — was finally subdued by the will of the new Lord of Celestia.
Its dark spawn no longer plagued the world, and even the deepest shadows fell silent, resigned to the new order.
Even the frozen ruins of Snezhnaya, shattered in Aether’s battle against the Shadows, slowly began to awaken.
Survivors from other nations founded new settlements there.
They no longer prayed to a Cryo Archon — instead, they spoke their words to Aether, recognizing him as their sovereign and protector.
Thus, beneath the blue sky, the final page of the old story was turned.
Thus ended the Age of Gods.
And began the Age of Humanity — an era in which the fate of the world was no longer decreed in the heavens, but forged on earth, in the hearts of mortals.