[EARLY ACCESS] SHRINK IMPACT | GENSHIN IMPACT - CHAPTER 36

Mona and Ganyu burst inside, their footsteps echoing off lacquered wood and stone. 

At the far side of the room, sprawled languidly atop a bed of cloud-white silks, lay Xianyun. She looked the very image of serenity. Robes loose, hair slightly mussed, glasses set aside on the table. Resting.

But she awoke. She sat up, stretching in a way that was oddly feline, before adjusting her sleeves and peering at them with polite surprise.

“One wonders at the haste, esteemed guests. To breach the wards of this one’s domain is not a trivial matter. Is there some emergency?”

Mona’s eyes were sharp with suspicion, her hydromancy already swirling at her fingertips. “Where’s the Traveler?” she demanded, not wasting a moment on pleasantries. “We’ve waited long enough.”

Xianyun offered a sorrowful smile and pressed a hand to her chest. “Alas, a most unfortunate event transpired during the assessment. The magic clinging to your friend was too chaotic, and their form—fragile as it was—could not withstand it. The Traveler…has perished.” She bowed her head, her expression solemn, almost convincing. “One mourns this loss deeply.”

Ganyu’s heart hammered in her chest, hope and horror warring inside her. She looked to Mona, then back at Xianyun. “That can’t be,” she whispered. “You said you could help…”

“Some fates cannot be undone, even by adepti,” Xianyun said, voice grave. “Rest assured, this one will tend to what remains with utmost respect.”

But Mona was already scanning the room suspiciously, her eyes flicking past the shelves and glass cases lining the far wall. There, her gaze caught on movement—a tiny figure, a woman dressed in fine festival silks, pressed up against the inside of a glass dome, face pale with terror. Mouthing pleas. 

Beyond her, more—men, women, a youth with a book, all shrunken and imprisoned, their eyes wide and pleading too. 

Ganyu followed her gaze and gasped, the last doubts vanishing. The two were shocked at first, seeing that there were others who had suffered the same fate they were trying so hard to fix.

“You liar,” she breathed. “You didn’t help them. You’re keeping them—trapping them—what have you done with the Traveler? Tell me!”

Xianyun’s smile faded, replaced by an expression of cold amusement. She rose, taller than either of them, her fingers flexing readily at her sides.

“One sees there is little point in further pretense. Mortals are ever so inquisitive, but also…so fragile. This one cautioned you against interference, and now you force my hand.”

From within Xianyun, the Traveler felt the shift: the adeptus’s muscles tensed, her heartbeat quickening. The chamber trembled as she summoned her power, the walls flickering with sigils and shifting shadows.

“Get ready!” Mona cried, water forming in a swirling spear in her hands. Ganyu knocked a frost-laced arrow, her breath misting the air.

Xianyun spread her arms and the room seemed to contract around her, the air heavy with adeptal magic. “You would challenge Cloud Retainer in her own domain? Foolishness.” She lashed out, sending a storm of cloud and wind hurling toward her guests.

Mona darted aside, her hydromancy shields flickering as she conjured illusions, dancing and multiplying around the room. Ganyu loosed arrow after arrow, their icy tips splintering the wooden shelves, sending glass shattering to the floor. The tiny captives ducked for cover, some pressing hands to their ears, others hiding in corners as the battle erupted.

From inside Xianyun, the Traveler was thrown about by every movement—a sudden lurch as she dodged an arrow, a crushing squeeze as she twisted her torso, stomach walls clenching tightly. Each spell cast, each dodge, shook the Traveler, pinning them in wet, churning darkness. Acid sloshed, burning their skin as they tried to brace against the shifting flesh, hoping for any sign of rescue.

Xianyun spun, her voice booming as she unleashed a wave of wind so fierce it knocked Mona from her feet, sending her sliding across the tiles. Ganyu drew in close, firing a barrage of arrows that burst into frost on contact, encasing Xianyun’s ankles in ice.

“Release them!” Ganyu shouted, her eyes flashing with anger and fear. “Let the Traveler go!”

Xianyun only laughed, shaking off the frost with a contemptuous gesture. “Such devotion. Such futility.” She clutched her belly possessively, pressing her palm to the faint bulge where the Traveler struggled. “You may try, but this one does not relinquish her treasures so easily.”

Mona, rising with blood trickling from her lip, glared at Xianyun. “You’re not an adeptus—you’re a monster.”

The battle raged across the chamber—Mona’s illusions swirling like mist, Ganyu’s arrows flashing ice-bright in the shifting shadows. Glass domes shattered as spells ricocheted, and the air shimmered with crackling adeptal power. For a moment, it seemed Mona and Ganyu might succeed. The shelves shook, the barriers faltered, and Xianyun staggered as an arrow struck her shoulder, leaving a jagged line of frost across her robe.

But Xianyun only laughed—a sound cold and echoing, reverberating through the whole domain. “You think to challenge one who shaped these mountains? Your struggle is as futile as wind against stone.”

Her eyes blazed behind red glasses, and with a gesture she drew the very mist from the air, gathering it into a swirling vortex at her fingertips. The room darkened as cloud and wind swirled, taloned fingers painting sigils of ancient, binding power.

Ganyu lunged, her next arrow nocked and ready, but Xianyun was too swift. She spoke a word of power—ancient, sonorous, unyielding—and thrust her hand forward. A wave of energy erupted, slamming into Ganyu and Mona with the force of a storm.

Mona’s illusions scattered. Ganyu’s bow dropped from her grasp. The two of them cried out as the magic seized them—an irresistible, compressing force. You, trapped in the darkness of Xianyun’s stomach, felt the ripple of magic, your own body squeezed by a sudden, vertiginous shift.

In front of Xianyun, Mona and Ganyu shrank. Their bodies compressed, smaller and smaller, until they tumbled helplessly into the palm of the adeptus’s waiting hand—no larger than dolls, pale and stunned, their eyes wide with disbelief and terror.

Xianyun regarded them with a prideful, hungry smile. “One warned you: this is one’s domain. Here, all things obey the laws of cloud and mountain.” Her talons curled gently but firmly around them, lifting the two shrunken women to eye level. “You are bold, persistent…worthy captives. One might even savor you slowly.”

She set them in a newly conjured glass enclosure beside the other trembling captives. “There is no rescue here—only acceptance of one’s fate.” Her voice grew softer, almost affectionate as she surveyed her collection. “Rest, mortals. Soon you will join the Traveler…within.”

The chamber filled with stunned silence, broken only by the faint whimpers of the other captives and the muffled gurgle from within Xianyun’s body.

Inside, the Traveler felt the tremor of magic and the despair of knowing their friends had been caught too—now powerless, at the mercy of the adeptus and her impossible hunger.

Above them, Xianyun reclined once more, thoroughly victorious, her hand stroking her middle in smug satisfaction as her new prizes awaited their turn.