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Xiao is falling.
He does not flail. Does not scream. Only stares listlessly as the distant pinprick of light above him grows smaller and smaller.
Red phantasms streak past, coalescing into something solid and much, much more threatening the further he plummets. Archons know what awaits him down there. Death, eventually, but first-
Well. Whatever it is, he’s more than deserving. He’s a slaughterer, after all. A tool of destruction.
Couldn’t even save your own skin, a voice inside him scoffs. After everything his friends went through to obtain that catalyst.
Xiao doesn’t have the energy to argue. What would be the point, anyway? It’s true, after all. He’d failed. Burned through millenia’s worth of energy stores at once and still hadn’t been strong enough.
Aether and Yanfei will grieve for him, now. Possibly the others as well. And because of Xiao, they’ll be left without even a body to bury. He should have insisted on his original plan. Shouldn't have entertained their naivety, given them false hope, when he knew this was inevitable.
This end is a mercy, compared to the deaths of his siblings.
It's a kindness he doesn't deserve.
He never got to write a proper will like Yanfei mentioned. Oh, well. He never wanted much anyway, and Aether, at least, had known him well enough to understand that.
What will become of Aether the day he faces the darkness and Xiao is not there to answer his call? he wonders.
So this is how the last Yaksha keeps his promises.
He hopes Aether finds his sister, at least. As for Xiao- well, it seems he’ll be reuniting with his own siblings soon.
A golden light emerges from the sea of red. Ah. So he’s even managed to burden Morax with his failings. How selfish of him.
The bright tendrils snake toward him, and for a moment he- fears? hopes?- they won’t be fast enough. But then Morax would fault himself for Xiao’s death, and he cannot wish that on his lord.
It doesn’t matter. The tendrils pluck him from the void, breaking his fall and snatching his breath away before drawing him back toward the surface. The light grows brighter; the red things shrink away, losing substance.
How silly of Xiao to think he might, at last, be allowed his rest.
A pity. It would have been nice to see his family again.