Chapter Text

INTERLUDE!!!

BY HumanTradegy 01

Before Cale and Diluc meet, let me explain why I chose Eruhaben as the first witness of the Phoenix' rebirth:

First of all, Diluc just died and has no reason to live in a new world. Eruhaben is dying and has yet to see any reason to continue to live. My favorite angsty characters: hypocrites.

Second, Eruhaben is the perfect starting character for Diluc. He has all the information thus allowing the other to adjust easily.

Lastly, it's Eruhaben.

But what if…

What if Diluc Ragnvindr was found or met the other characters first?

WHAT IF…

CHOI HAN

Before the village…

Choi Han saw a sudden burst of light, followed by an eruption of fire. 

It happened so quickly that he couldn’t react; all he could do was watch as the flames consumed everything in their path. By the time the fire had completely died down, Choi Han was still frozen in place, staring at the aftermath.

He’d been wandering this strange world for years. Encounters with the unusual had become his norm, but this—this was different. This was the first time he had seen anything like it, and it left him wary. 

Yet, at the same time, he couldn’t help but feel a flicker of hope.

Slowly, he approached the site where the fire had erupted, his wooden sword in hand, every muscle in his body tense. His senses were sharp as he navigated through the charred remains of the forest. 

The monsters and beasts he usually encountered in these woods—predators that would normally attack him on sight—were fleeing in the opposite direction, as though they were running from something far more dangerous than themselves. 

None of them even acknowledged his presence, a fact that only heightened his unease.

When Choi Han finally reached the last branch obstructing his view, he pushed it aside cautiously. What he saw left him bewildered.

A clearing lay before him, completely burned out. 

The grass, the trees, even the soil itself seemed scorched beyond recognition. At the center of this devastation lay a body. 

A human body.

His first thought was that the person was dead. But then, as he continued to observe, he noticed the faintest movement. The pale, charred figure stirred, and Choi Han realized it was a young man. 

—Naked, vulnerable, and dazed, the figure looked utterly out of place amidst the destruction.

The past Choi Han might blush and hide from the sight but—

—the current Choi Han did nothing.

“There’s someone more unlucky than I am,” Choi Han muttered to himself, voice croaking and unused, a wry smile tugging at his lips despite the situation. 

He remembered his own arrival in this world, battered and lost, but at least he’d had his belongings and clothes. 

This young man had nothing.

As he stepped closer, he wondered if the fire had burned away the stranger’s possessions. The thought elicited an unexpected pang of pity. 

So unlucky.

Choi Han crouched down, his wary eyes never leaving the dazed young man…

…and used the wooden sword to poke at the ‘human’ .

Unlucky the young man is, Choi Han still doubts it is a fellow human.

Nothing can be trusted in this forest.

The young man blinked, his unfocused eyes gradually locking onto Choi Han. There was no fear in his gaze, only confusion and a familiar vulnerability. 

He lost someone.

For a moment, Choi Han hesitated. 

Should he help or should he leave?

The red haired young man blinked.

With a sigh, Choi Han removed his cloak—just a torn piece of cloth that he lovingly calls as a cloak—and draped it over the young man’s shoulders. The young man didn’t respond, but he didn’t resist either. 

As Choi Han helped him to his feet, he couldn’t help but wonder: Who was this person, and what could have caused such an unnatural blaze?

Was this person really a human?

[Choi Han doubted everything—his surroundings, his memories, his very existence. He questioned and questioned, unsure if anything was truly real.

It was only when he stepped out of the forest for the first time that belief finally took root.

Kneeling on the ground, tears streaming as sunlight kissed his skin, he felt it—the warmth, the undeniable reality of it all.

When his gaze lifted to the red-haired man standing beside him, it struck him again.

Another human.

In that moment, Choi Han finally believed.

He is real. ]

=-=-=-=-=

After the massacre…

“Who are you?”

Choi Han’s voice cut through the silence as he stared at the red-haired man’s dazed expression. Confusion mingled with a chilling coldness in the man’s eyes.

Looking at the young man, Choi Han was reminded of his own first steps into the village. He had been greeted with warmth—kind smiles and open arms.

But those people were gone now. Dead.

Unlike him, this young man hadn’t been welcomed into this world with warmth or kindness. Instead, he’d been thrust into a desolate, broken place.

And into the path of a murderous Choi Han, who had just lost everything and everyone he held dear.

“Who are you?” he repeated, his sword pressed dangerously close to the man’s throat.

The red-haired man didn’t answer. His gaze wandered around the ruins, his haunted eyes heavy with unspoken sorrow. Then he turned to Choi Han, and in those eyes, Choi Han saw the same anguish reflected back at him.

And he understood.

This man, too, had lost everything. Everyone .

The sword trembled, lowering slightly but not entirely disappearing.

“...Who are you?” he asked a third time, his voice quieter now—fragile, vulnerable.

The young man said nothing.

And Choi Han never asked again.

[ A silent companion isn’t so bad, Choi Han thought as the emotionless man turned to meet his gaze.]

THE BLACK DRAGON

The black dragon shot up in alarm, his senses sharp as the flames before him vanished, leaving behind a human body.

A human, he thought with disgust, his narrowed eyes burning with anger and loathing.

A human in his cell. 

The realization made his anger stumble for a moment.

Why is there a human here?

His rage flared again. Another cruel trick, he hissed to himself, another torture method devised by humans.

Chains clinked as the black dragon skittered back from the human when it stirred. Not out of fear—he told himself—but for a better vantage point.

He watched warily as the human mumbled strange, incomprehensible words. Words unlike any he’d heard from other humans.

And then he felt it.

A foreign power washed over him, unfamiliar yet oddly comforting—a warmth that seeped into his being, healing and soothing his wounds.

He hissed again but froze mid-breath, a new thought striking him.

...Is this really a human?

No.

He doubted it. 

Humans didn’t wield such power—power that carried warmth and care.

And when the human— not-human —opened his eyes, meeting the dragon’s gaze, the Black Dragon came into conclusion.

No human had eyes like his.

(Broken. But still hopes.)

[ He isn’t human , the black dragon decided as they escaped—No human would show him kindness.

He isn’t human , he concluded again, watching as the not-human created a fiery baby bird—a sibling, the black dragon selfishly thought.

He isn’t human, the black dragon told himself in growing horror, as he saw the not-human working tirelessly for a week without sleep.

He isn’t human, the black dragon thought as he sobbed into another redhead’s arms, after being scolded for blowing up an island.]

BUD ILLIS

…Diluc will probably run away without even gaining consciousness.

I mean— really ? A blue-haired drunkard who gathers information by pretending to be an alcoholic? Come on! That’s just a ‘Kaeya Alberich’ copy-paste-with-format!

Or worse—a ‘Cale Henituse’ Eastern knockoff without the suicidal tendencies or delusional slacker dreams!

Both of which, by the way, are already Diluc’s nightmares.

Now throw Bud Illis into the mix? Congratulations, you’ve just created a full-blown Illuminati fueled by Diluc’s deepest horrors.

I believe Diluc would prefer meeting someone sane first. A ‘Glenn Poeff’ can be a good start but…

…meeting Bud Illis…

…

Hmm…

…

“Hm?”

“What is it?”

“...Nothing. Just thought someone was talking shit about me.”

“Everyone always talks shit about you.”

“True.”

Bud Illis continued to drink like a man stranded in a desert.

Then he stopped.

Again.

“...What is it this time?” Glenn Poeff groaned, rubbing his temples. He was tired of his friend’s antics. He really should reconsider his choice of friends. 

Why had he befriended this drunkard in the first place?

Ah, right. He was hired.

He wants to resign, please.

“The winds are restless.”

“Is something coming?”

“I’m not sure.”

[Cue Elsa’s singing—no.]

Glenn opened his mouth to ask more questions, but the Mercenary King suddenly bolted upright, his drink forgotten as he rushed out into the streets.

“Hey! Your payment!”

“Tab the bill! I’ll pay later!”

Cursing, Glenn tailed his so-called damn friend.

If early retirement was out of the question, could he at least get a monthly bonus to cover the drunkard’s alcohol tabs?

Glenn muttered threats about backstabbing Bud until he realized they were already deep inside a forest.

A forest so unnervingly silent it made his skin crawl.

“Shh.”

What use was a 'shh' when it was already dead silent?!

“Look.”

Against his better judgment, Glenn followed Bud’s gaze. It was a decision he would regret forever because—

“You pervert! Why are you watching someone naked ?!”

Was this his friend evolving ? Could he cancel it? He’d take the drunkard over a pervert any day.

“When I wished for a perfect friend,” Glenn muttered, “I didn’t mean to bite my tongue and say, ‘ pervert.’ ”

“What—?! You’ve got it wrong! Where are you even looking?! I meant the surroundings! You’re the pervert here!”

Oh. The surroundings. Fine. Sure.

It looked burnt…

…But were you really just looking at the surroundings? Glenn squinted at his friend suspiciously.

Bud Illis groans.

Then, without warning, Bud started taking off his own clothes.

Surroundings — bullshit! Why are you taking off your clothes?!

“I can hear your fucking thoughts, damn it! You’re concerned he’s naked, so I’m giving him clothes! What more do you want?!”

...

…Were you really just going to give him clothes? Glenn continued to eye his friend warily.

“...Fuck you too.”

[Bud Illis managed to give the young man clothes.

But not without earning another round of suspicious stares.

Seriously. Was he that unreliable ?!]

[HumanTragedy 05 nodded solemnly as he watched the words being written.]

WHITE STAR

[Because why not?]

“What the hell did you just do?”

“Get your hands off me.”

“An unknown language... A foreigner with unknown power... Power similar to a divine being... You aren’t a god, are you?”

“What the f—”

The White Star—Cale Barrow—gripped the young man’s face, his gaze unsettling as he stared into the man’s eyes, as if searching for answers within them.

“---Let go—”

“...The curse... is really weakening...”

“I said—”

“You. You are mine now.”

“---GET OFF ME!”

Then, the White Radish got cooked.

[Writing his Point of View will leave spoilers so...

...let's leave this at that.]

THE WORLD TREE (of Nameless 1)

…why would you even want to imagine such a horrifying scene?

Just imagine elves shouting and panicking about the World Tree on fire, and be done with that.

Seriously, what is wrong with you?

(￢_￢)