Within an endless scape of void, Heins slowly opened his eyes. He stared blankly for a while, confused and lost by the situation he found himself in. It wasn't until a melodious, amused giggle that he snapped out of his trance and looked at the source of such a beautiful voice.
There, in the middle of this void, levitate a beautiful young woman, her garments swayed and hanged from her body. Her blonde hair, donned with black streaks and her eyes as dark as the night sky created a beautiful spectacle.
Heins felt a sense of deja vu. Wasn't it like this when he met Miss Skirk, who resides in the Abyss? However, this void-like space was even darker than the Abyss back then.
"This is not the Abyss, mortal, but an empty realm between life and death."
Heins went silent. He just looked around, shocked and somewhat numb. What does that mean? Will he crossed the threshold and die?
"Am I... Dying?" Heins asked, his tone doubtful and lost.
The woman smiled as she cupped her chin, "Well, dying is not the right word. However, it could be said there was a part of you that had been absorbed by the ley lines. You're not gonna die, which would be the case if you are to be successfully revived."
The woman hovered, her lithe fingers slowly swayed as she continued, "The ley lines did not consider you a deceased being, but one that was still alive. Yet, you somehow got absorbed by the ley lines, hence your arrival here."
Heins looked doubtful as he looked around. His crimson eyes landed on the mysterious woman again and asked, "So what am I gonna do now? Can I even go back?"
The woman showed an ambiguous smile, but her words are straightforward, "If your body did not die, and the rest of your soul still resides within your body, then you will stuck here. It's either you die, or you live."
Heins stared at the ethereal woman, his crimson eyes wide with confusion and a growing sense of unease. Her words echoed in the vast, empty expanse, each syllable dripping with a cryptic ambiguity that left him reeling.
He tried to process her explanation, but the sheer strangeness of his situation made it difficult for the concepts to take root in his mind.
"I... I don't understand," Heins stammered, his voice echoing in the void. "If I'm not dead, but a part of me is trapped here... what does that mean? Am I... am I a ghost now?"
The woman's smile widened, a glimmer of amusement dancing in her dark, starlit eyes. She drifted closer to Heins, her gossamer gown billowing and shimmering in the absence of any discernible light.
"A ghost? No, not quite," she murmured, her voice like the whisper of a distant wind. "You are... a liminal being, caught between two worlds. Your physical form lives on, but your essence, your very spirit, is divided. Specifically, your heart."
Heins's brow furrowed as he tried to grasp the implications of her words. The notion of being stuck in this empty realm, trapped between life and death, filled him with a profound sense of dread.
He thought of his Mistress, of his friends in Mondstadt, of the life he had known before this strange occurrence. The memory of their faces, their voices, seemed to fade and blur at the edges, as if the void was slowly erasing the very foundations of his existence.
"What can I do to go back?" Heins asked, a note of desperation creeping into his tone. "Is there a way to reunite my... my essence with my body? To be whole again?"
The woman's expression softened, and she reached out a slender hand, her fingertips brushing against Heins's cheek with a touch as light as a feather. "To reunite with your physical form, you must first understand the nature of your existence," she said, her voice dropping to a gentle, almost nurturing lilt.
"You must confront the memories that bind you to this realm, the echoes of your past that have led you to this moment. A part of your soul is essentially a part of your memories, so until you are to be revived, you must keep the memories you held in your heart to preserve it."
She paused, her gaze drifting to some unseen point in the distance. "The ley lines hold the memories of Teyvat, the collective consciousness of all that had been, has been and all that will be. To break free from this limbo, you must delve into those memories, confront the truth of your destiny, and forge a new path forward. Confronting means understanding, and one would hardly forget if they understand."
"To understand truly of what those memories mean for you. Essentially, this would be a trial for you to preserve everything you have in your heart. Your loved ones, your feelings, your happiness... Everything that was contained in the heart."
Heins's heart raced as he considered her words. The thought of being trapped in this empty expanse for eternity filled him with a bone-deep dread, and he knew that he could not, would not, allow himself to be consumed by the void. He had to find a way back, had to reclaim the life that had been stolen from him.
"I... I'll do whatever it takes," Heins said, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and determination. "I'll keep everything I have."
The woman nodded with a smile, "I knew you would say that. However, you must understand the very concept that you have to resist in order to keep everything that resides within your heart."
"The concept that the world of Teyvat you must resist is an absolute phenomenon called erosion. Erosion is an absolute principal that slowly erode a being of their very self, including their memories. It usually affected those who had lived for so long, and only some certain beings could resist against it."
The woman paused, and then with a look of desolation, she continued, her tone low and downcast,
"In this space, the scape between life and death, the erosion amplified. It affects beings within a hundred times faster, since their soul was directly exposed to the erosion. So what you must do... Is to resist it with your will. You must shield your feeble soul with the soul of the heart itself, since it was a part of you that contain your will and your memories. Memories that contained your loved ones."
Heins listened intently to the woman's words, his heart pounding in his chest as he struggled to comprehend the gravity of his predicament.
The notion of erosion, of some unseen force slowly stripping away at his very essence, filled him with a deep sense of dread. He thought of the life he had known, the Mistress he had loved, and the idea of losing even a single memory of her was unbearable.
"I understand," Heins said, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and resolve. "I won't let it take anything from me."
The woman nodded, a flicker of approval in her dark, starlit eyes. "Do not fret," she said, her voice dropping to a fervent whisper, "your heart is your greatest weapon against the erosion. It is the repository of your deepest emotions, your most cherished memories, and your unbreakable bonds. Hold fast to those feelings, nurture them, let them burn like a flame within your soul. With it, you can resist the encroaching darkness and reclaim your place in the world of the living. Hopefully."
She drifted closer to Heins, her gossamer gown brushing against his skin like the ghost of a touch. "Focus on the faces of those you hold dear," she murmured, her breath warm against his ear.
"Picture their smiles, hear their laughter, feel the love that binds you to them. Let those memories, those emotions, become your shield against the erosion. They are the key to your salvation, the beacon that will keep you from being eroded. And I could only hope... Whoever hold your body to be capable of reviving your heart."
Heins closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as he tried to summon the images of those he loved. He thought of his friends in the Dawn Winery, of their boisterous laughter and the camaraderie that had become a second family to him.
He thought of the people of Mondstadt, of their unwavering courage and their indomitable spirits in the face of adversity. He thought of two knight-in-trainings he trained, two resplendent girls he was forced to left behind by a cruel twist of fate. He thought of an inexplicable brotherhood he forged with those two boys.
As he delved deeper into those memories, Heins felt a warmth blossoming in his chest, a flickering ember that seemed to grow brighter and hotter with each passing second. It was as if the love and affection he held for those he cared for were manifesting as a tangible force, a shield against the encroaching darkness of the erosion.
And then there was his Mistress. His every reason, his guide, his goal, his love, his everything. It was like a flicker of flame that was set ablaze, incited by a sea of oil, creating an endless sea of fire. It was a resplendent feeling, a thing that transcends his fibres of being.
"I won't forget," Heins whispered, his voice burning with newfound determination. "I won't let them fade. I'll hold onto them, no matter what."
The woman smiled, a look of pride and approval etched upon her ethereal features.
"Then you have a chance," she said, her voice resonating with a sense of hope. "Hold fast to your resolve, and let the love in your heart be your guiding light. Face the trials that lie ahead, and never forget the truth of who you are and what you fight for."
With those words, the woman began to fade, her form dissolving into the swirling mists of the void. As she disappeared, her voice echoed in the emptiness, a final whisper of encouragement and warning.
"Remember... in this realm, time flows differently. A lifetime here can be a moment in the world of the living. Do not tarry long, and keep your heart clear and absolute of the goals and the love you held of your loved ones."
Before she truly disappeared, Heins strode forward and asked, his eyes furrowed and curious, "Can you tell me... Who you are?"
He merely got a fleeting voice, but an answer nonetheless, "I... Have forgotten..."
And with that, Heins was alone once more, the vast expanse of the void stretching out before him, a silent and unending sea of onyx that seemed to blur the lines between reality and imagination.
But he knew now what he had to do, what he had to be. He had to resist, to fight against the erosion with every fiber of his being, and to hold fast to the memories and emotions that made him who he was.
For in the end, Heins knew that his greatest strength, his most powerful weapon against the encroaching darkness, was his love for his Mistress. And he would not, could not, allow it to be taken from him. Not now, not ever.
Within the void, a flicker of flame shone, like a sole source of light amid the darkness.
As he sat on the endless scape of void, all alone in this blank realm, Heins closed his eyes and began to reminiscence the past.
He remembered the handsome face of his father who taught him how to survive. His father had hair as dark as the night, his eyes azure and clear. He was a brave man, one that was brave enough to transversed through the rough cold terrains of his hometown.
However, his beloved father was murdered by his own best friend, an accident that made Heins realize there was no one worth trusting in this world.
Heins wished he could erase this memory, but this is the memory that made him who he was today, the fire that tempered the person he'd become, so he tenderly keep it in the heart of his soul.
Afterward, from the age of 6, the time of hell began. Heins was just a small boy, lost and confused in the world. He asked for food only to be kicked. He asked for help only to be socked in the chest. He asked for respite only to be spitted on. At that time, he learned how to survive. He learned how to kill by disguising himself as a weak boy.
The first time was tough. He must endure the rising disgust and nausea, with the additional regret and guilt that couldn't seem to disappear.
The second time, he remembered, was a woman. Heins remembered how he ruthlessly stabbed the woman's skull, bathing his own hands with blood.
The woman wanted to force herself on him, and Heins had no choice but to kill her.
After the tenth time, every face he had killed became blurry, and in the end, after the hundredth time, he could kill with no remorse, his crimson eyes cold and blank became the cursed crimson eyes the folks talked about.
At the age of seven, everyone in the vicinity feared him. But Heins endured, driven by a singular purpose: survival. He justified his actions, telling himself that he had no choice, that this was the only way to ensure his own life in a world that sought to snuff it out at every turn.
And then, at the age of eight, Heins reached his breaking point. The weight of the lives he had taken, the innocence he had lost, the very essence of his humanity - it all threatened to crush him beneath its insurmountable burden. He could not bear it any longer, and so he did the only thing he could: he ran.
Men, women, grandfathers, grandmothers, fathers, mothers, sons, daughters, little Heins had tasted their blood through his hands at that tender age, driven by numerous reasons that had threatened his very existence.
Men would kill him, women would forced themselves on him, lost children, the same as him, were blinded by envy and instead of uniting for the same cause, they told on him and surrounded him.
In the end, he left it all behind, but not before he killed the best friend of his father in cold blood, who enjoyed the wealth his father had painstakingly gathered.
As he walked and walked, not knowing where he ended up at, he stumbled across a beautiful snowy peak. It was resplendent, gorgeous, majestic. He followed his instinct, running towards the snowy mountain. There are monsters at times, but little Heins learned to camouflaged, and more importantly, he learned to distract them.
He would threw a pebble faraway to trick the monsters, and then he would ran as fast as his little legs could. It went on days, perhaps even months, Heins's sense of time was very bad at that time. He would eat the meat of the wild lives he could find. If he'd got lucky, he would find a herbivore mammal.
And then, a disaster struck. A snowstorm... Descended, as unforgiving as ever.
Little Heins was forced to take refuge in the nearest forest, and even then, without sufficient knowledge about camping, a topic his father had no opportunity to taught him, he could only sat on the thickest bushes he could find, covering himself in a mammal fur he skinned on his way there.
There... He met his Mistress.
As the memories played out before him, a kaleidoscope of moments that had shaped and defined his life, Heins felt a surge of emotion welling up within his chest.
Each memory, no matter how painful or bittersweet, had brought him to this point, had forged him into the man he was today.
After his Mistress took him in, he thought of the orphans of the House of the Hearth, of the unexpected solace he had found in their concerned gazes despite their initial disdain for his reckless antics.
He remembered the first time he had met his Mistress, the trusted confidant of hers who had offered to train him in a clearing he had discovered, and the way his life had changed irrevocably in that moment.
Heins's mind drifted to the countless moments of growth and change - the time he had promised his Mistress his absolute loyalty, and the way she had forced him to look into her eyes as she declared him to be hers.
He recalled the exhilaration and terror of awakening his Electro Vision, and the pain of being kicked by his Mistress for daring to overstep the boundaries she had set.
The memories of their time together were a tapestry of companionship, of harshness, of the unbreakable bond they had forged in the heat of battle and the quiet moments in between.
As he sat in the void, Heins felt a profound sense of gratitude for the life he had lived, for the people who had touched his heart and left an indelible mark upon his soul.
He thought of the time he had spent in Liyue Harbor, of the Princess Keqing who had pretended to be a cat, and of the way his skills and abilities had been recognized and celebrated. He remembered the warmth of his Mistress's lap, the inexplicable comfort he had found in that moment of quiet intimacy.
The memories of his time in Mondstadt brought a bittersweet smile to his face - the sweet smile of Jean, the competitive spirit and unwavering attention of Eula, the cool confidence of Kaeya, the calm and steadfast leadership of Diluc, the gentle concern and scolding of Frederica for Jean, the heroic visage of Grand Master Varka, and the selfless dedication of Terlad who would not hesitate to lay down his life for the peace of Mondstadt.
Each of them had played a role in shaping the man he had become, and he knew that he carried a piece of them with him always.
And then, he thought of the three years he had spent in the Abyss with the ethereal beauty Miss Skirk, and the clash against Pierro that had tested the very limits of his abilities the moment he left the confinement of the Abyss.
It had been a time of growth, of discovery, and of the forging of a bond that transcended the boundaries of master and student.
But most of all, he thought of his Mistress. The anguished expression on her face as he had lost consciousness, the love and concern that had shone in her eyes, had stayed with him like a guiding light in the darkness of the void.
He knew that she was his reason for living, his purpose for being, and he would not, could not, allow the erosion to take her from him.
As the memories played out before him, Heins felt a renewed sense of determination, a burning desire to hold fast to the life he had lived and the love he had found.
The erosion would not chip away at the beloved memories that had shaped his soul, and he would fight with every fiber of his being to keep them alive.
Heins knew that he was truly not alone, that he would never be alone, for the love and memories that had shaped his life would always be with him, guiding him through the darkness and into the light of a new beginning. And with that knowledge, he pressed on, ready to face whatever trials lay ahead and to reclaim the life that had been stolen from him.
The void seemed to whisper and echo with the voices of those he held dear, their love and support a constant presence that buoyed his spirits and strengthened his resolve. His memories and emotions of them became a shield against the erosion that could never be broken, a constant reminder that he was Heins.
He would not let the erosion win, would not allow it to rob him of the love and the memories that had shaped his soul.
Even if he was to die, unsuccesful to be revived, he would not let them go. Heins knew death was terrifying, but the sheer comfort he felt from the fact that he died for his Mistress...
That's enough to assure him. He will fight till the end! Thus, Heins closed his eyes and replayed his memories, with the silence of the void the only thing accompanying him.
As for how long he must endure, that will be up to fate. As of now, he could only resist. To resist and to defy.