The morning light filtered through the café window in soft golden streaks, painting warm patterns across the walls as Henry lay in bed for a moment, staring at the ceiling and listening to the distant sounds of Mondstadt waking up—the clatter of carts, the murmur of early risers, the familiar rhythm of a city coming to life. Then he remembered. His phone. It had been sitting in his System space this entire time, buried among the more practical items he'd brought from Earth.
How did I forget about my phone AGAIN?
He reached into his System space, felt the familiar smooth surface, and pulled it out—a navy blue beauty that he held in his hands for a moment before pressing his thumb along the power button. The screen flickered to life, the familiar startup logo appearing with all the warmth of a long-lost friend, and it worked. Of course it worked. The System space apparently preserved things in whatever state they'd been stored, and his phone still had 100% battery. He unlocked it, turned on mobile data, and immediately tried to open the browser.
No signal. Obviously. Teyvat didn't have cell towers. It didn't even have electricity until I'm going to introduce it—so why would it have internet?
[You're checking for internet?] Orianna's voice echoed in his head, dripping with amusement. [In a world where people communicate via magical birds, post, and magic?]
Shut up. He stared at the blank browser screen. "I thought maybe I could access the internet here like I had seen in animes. I thought you had powers, Orianna?"
[Well, I can't give you powers randomly without it being part of a quest and also—] She paused for a short while, as if debating whether to reveal information or not. [Alright, Henry, I'll tell you the truth. Even though I am a system, I don't have full access to some features. I can't access them.]
WHOA! Really? There are things that you can't even access? Damm! I wonder what it is? Maybe it will give me access to internet?
Henry scrolled through his phone instead, opening old photos, old messages, old notes from a life that still existed somewhere far away—he could go back anytime, sleep, focus, and he'd be in his Earth bedroom. But for now, he stood up and walked to the window, phone in hand, and the view was stunning, Mondstadt's medieval houses lined up in front of him catching the morning light while the distant mountains framed everything like a painting. He raised his phone and took a photo. Then another. Then a selfie with the view behind him.
"What do you think?" he asked aloud, turning the phone toward himself. "Do I look like a proper resident of Mondstadt now?"
[You look like a tourist who's about to get pickpocketed.]
Rude.
[Accurate. Also, you have gifts to deliver. Stop playing with your phone and get moving. Chop. Chop.]
Henry put the device back into his system space and grabbed his coat, acknowledging that she was right, annoyingly—he had a list of people to visit, gifts to distribute, relationships to maintain.
He stepped out into the crisp morning air, the streets of Mondstadt already bustling with activity, and made his way toward his first stop: the training grounds.
Noelle was exactly where he expected her to be—swinging her massive claymore in a series of precise, devastating strikes against a training dummy that had seen far better days, the wooden target splintered, cracked, and barely holding together, which was probably a testament to her dedication rather than the dummy's quality. Henry watched for a moment, genuinely impressed by her form, her movements fluid despite the sheer weight of her weapon, and she'd clearly been training for hours, sweat glistening on her forehead as her expression remained one of pure concentration.
She finally paused, noticing him standing at the edge of the training grounds, and her face immediately brightened. "Mr. Henry! Hello! Good morning!"
"Morning, Noelle." He walked over, hands in his pockets. "Training hard as always?"
"I have to be ready for anything," she said earnestly. "The Knights depend on me, and I can't let them down." She paused, tilting her head with concern. "Is there something you needed? Are you in trouble? Do you need help with something?"
"No, no, nothing like that." Henry pulled the small velvet pouch from his pocket. "I actually came to give you something."
Noelle blinked, her expression shifting to confusion. "Give me something? But why?"
"Because I wanted to." He opened the pouch and let the charm bracelet slide into his palm—delicate silver links with tiny star charms that caught the light and sparkled. "I saw this and thought of you."
Noelle stared at the bracelet, her mouth falling open slightly as her eyes moved from the delicate silver stars to Henry's face and back again, as if she couldn't quite process what she was seeing. "Mr. Henry, I... I can't accept this," she said, though her voice wavered. "It's too generous. I haven't done anything to—"
"You've done plenty," Henry interrupted gently. "You've trained me, you've sparred with me, you've been nothing but kind and dependable since the day I met you. You deserve nice things, Noelle. This is just a small one."
Henry was indeed not lying—Alina had informed him that Noelle had helped with the café construction simply because she thought more help would get the work done quicker and she had felt like it, and Alina had to force mora into her hand which she was refusing to take.
Such innocent souls deserve the entire world.
She looked at the bracelet again, then at him, her cheeks flushing a delicate pink. "You... you really think so?"
"I really do."
Noelle hesitated for another moment, then slowly extended her wrist, and Henry fastened the bracelet around it, the silver stars settling against her skin like they'd always belonged there.
She held her arm up, watching the light catch the tiny charms, and a smile spread across her face—bright and genuine and utterly unguarded. "Thank you, Mr. Henry," she said softly. "I'll treasure this."
"Good." He grinned. "Now go back to destroying that training dummy. It looked like it was asking for it."
Noelle laughed, the sound bright and unexpected. "I will. And Mr. Henry—if you ever need anything, anything at all, please don't hesitate to ask."
"I'll keep that in mind."
He left her to her training, the bracelet glinting on her wrist as she raised her claymore for another strike. One down, several to go.
The Knights of Favonius Headquarters were as busy as ever when Henry arrived, knights moving through the corridors with purposeful strides while clerks carried stacks of paperwork that seemed to multiply with every passing moment. He navigated the familiar halls toward Varka's office, nodding at the few knights who recognized him along the way.
Varka's door was slightly ajar, and Henry could see the Grandmaster inside, leaning back in his chair with his boots propped on his desk like he owned the place—which, technically, he did. He was reading something, his expression relaxed and a faint smile playing at his lips.
What is he reading and smiling about? Is he slacking off again? Should I tell Jean?
[Wow, you are so loving—cough—whipped. You are willing to rat out your friend? Are you this cruel?]
I was kidding lol. I'm sure Varka does work sometime? Maybe? Because to me it seems like he shares many similarities to that drunk bard.
Henry knocked on the doorframe. "Busy?"
Varka looked up, and his smile widened into a grin. "Henry! Come in, come in. I was just reviewing the patrol schedules—which is to say, I was pretending to review them while actually thinking about lunch."
Gotcha!
He gestured at the chair across from his desk. "What brings you here?"
Henry stepped inside and took the offered seat. "I brought you something." He pulled the travel flask from his System space—sturdy steel with thermal insulation—and held it out. "Thought you might appreciate this."
Varka took the flask, turning it over in his hands with obvious interest as he examined the material, the weight, the sleek design. "This is... unusual. The craftsmanship is unlike anything I've seen in Mondstadt."
"I made it," Henry lied smoothly. "Very durable. Keeps liquids at the right temperature for hours—the kind of thing that would keep coffee hot for hours or beer cold for just as long. I figured you could use it for your longer patrols or your longer drinking sessions, whichever comes first."
[Now that I think about it, why are you even giving gifts and getting chummy with Varka?]
Why not? He's fun to hang out with. Also, it's best to make connections with the top people.
[Wow Henry, I underestimated you. Bribing top officials with gifts. Very sly, Henry. Thinking like a true politician.]
"Actually, I came to tell you about my new café." Henry leaned forward, his grin widening. "It's finished. The building, the equipment, the staff—everything's ready. I'm planning to open soon."
Varka's eyebrows shot up. "Already? I knew you were ambitious, but this is faster than most construction projects in Mondstadt. The cathedral took years."
"I'm efficient." Henry waved a hand dismissively. "But I wanted to invite you to the opening. I thought you might want to bring some of the knights—see what modern hospitality looks like."
Varka's grin matched Henry's. "Modern hospitality, you say? I'm intrigued. What exactly does that entail?"
"Comfortable seating, excellent food, climate control, and the best coffee and tea," Henry said. "Plus, the staff will be well-trained and the atmosphere is unlike anything you've ever experienced. Trust me, you won't want to miss it."
"I'll be there," Varka said without hesitation. "And I'll bring a few of my best knights—they could use a break from the usual routine. You'll make a good impression, I'm sure."
"Thanks, Varka. I'll send you the message about the opening date."
They chatted for a few more minutes, Varka's curiosity about the café prompting Henry's vague explanations that didn't reveal too much, as Henry didn't want to spoil anything for Varka, preferring to keep it a surprise.
-
Albedo's lab was a different world entirely—neat, orderly, filled with alchemical equipment and half-finished experiments that Henry couldn't begin to understand. The alchemist himself was bent over a worktable, carefully measuring something into a flask, while Sucrose stood nearby with a notebook, taking meticulous notes.
Henry knocked on the open door. "Hope I'm not interrupting."
Albedo straightened, turning with a calm smile. "Henry. Not at all. We were just finishing up some cataloguing work." He set down his measuring tool. "What brings you here?"
"I brought you something." Henry pulled out a sleek case containing a precision compass set—the kind used for drafting and geometry, with metal arms, a rubber grip, and interchangeable attachments. "I thought you might appreciate this."
Albedo accepted the case with obvious curiosity, opening it carefully. The moment his eyes fell on the tools inside, his expression shifted from mild interest to genuine fascination. He picked up one of the compasses, examining the precise joints, the smooth movement of the hinge, the materials that were clearly higher quality than anything he'd seen before.
"These are extraordinary," he murmured, turning the instrument over in his hands. "The craftsmanship is excellent. I've never seen a compass this precise before."
"I made them," Henry lied smoothly again. "Thought you'd get more use out of them than anyone else."
Albedo's eyes flickered with something—curiosity, perhaps, but he didn't press. "They're remarkable. I'll certainly put them to good use." He glanced at Sucrose, who was peering at the tools with obvious interest. "We might be able to use these for some of the more delicate measurements in our research."
"Thank you Henry."
They chatted for a few more minutes—research progress, potential applications, and to Henry's surprise, even Sucrose's quiet interjections proved surprisingly insightful once you got past her shyness.
Then Henry excused himself, leaving Albedo to his new tools and the faint, wondering expression that still lingered on his face.
-
Jean's office was exactly as Henry had anticipated—papers everywhere, stacks of documents threatening to topple over, and Jean herself hunched over her desk with a quill in one hand and a cup of cold coffee in the other.
She looked exhausted, her hair slightly askew, but there were no longer dark circles under her eyes, and he felt a small surge of satisfaction at that. Good, she finally listened to me.
Henry knocked on the open door. "Busy?"
Jean looked up, and despite her exhaustion, a smile tugged at her lips. "Henry. Come in." She set down her quill with obvious relief. "I always have time for you."
"Even when you're buried in paperwork?"
"Especially then." She gestured at the chair across from her desk. "What brings you here? Is there something I can help with?"
"I actually came to give you something." Henry pulled out the small velvet box and held it out to her. "I saw this and thought of you."
Jean blinked, clearly surprised, and accepted the box cautiously, opening it to reveal the silver hairpin with the blue sapphire accent. The gem caught the light, throwing tiny blue sparkles across her desk, and her breath caught slightly as she ran her fingers gently over the sapphire. "Henry, this is..." She trailed off, her voice soft. "This is beautiful. But you didn't have to—"
"I wanted to," Henry interrupted gently. "You work yourself too hard, Jean. And this isn't a thank you from other people—this is from me personally, because I thought you deserved something nice for yourself for once."
Jean looked at the hairpin, then at him, her expression softening into something warm and vulnerable that flickered behind her usually composed features. She reached up and carefully tucked the hairpin into her blonde hair, the sapphire glittering against the strands. "How does it look?" she asked, and there was something almost shy in her voice.
"Stunning," Henry said honestly. "It suits you."
Jean's cheeks flushed slightly as she looked down at her desk. "Thank you. I... I don't know what to say."
Awww, shy Jean is so cute. I never knew Jean could be this shy.
[Wait, Henry, I think I know why she is this shy. In Liyue or chinese culture, isn't wearing a gifted hairpin a sign of marriage? HA HA HA HA HA. She thinks you are proposing.]
Shit. I didn't think of this. Well, what's done is done. Can't take it back now.
"You don't have to say anything." Henry leaned back in his chair calmly, although internally he was completely freaked out. "I also wanted to let you know—the café is ready. I'm planning to open soon."
Jean's eyes lit up with genuine interest. "Already? I know you mentioned it was nearly finished, but this is faster than I expected."
"I'm efficient."
"And I figured you'd want to be there for the opening. Maybe take a break from all this paperwork for a few hours."
She laughed softly, the sound warm and genuine. "I think I can manage that. Especially if the food is as good as you've been promising."
"Better," Henry promised. "The best food in Teyvat. And the most comfortable chairs. And the best coffee." He paused. "You're going to love it."
Jean smiled—a real smile, not the professional one she wore for diplomatic functions. "I'm sure I will." She reached up and touched the hairpin again, almost unconsciously. "Thank you, Henry. For this. For everything."
"Anytime." He stood, stretching. "I should let you get back to work. You've got a city to run."
"It never stops," she agreed, but there was a lightness to her tone that hadn't been there before. "But... thank you. Really."
Henry nodded as he stood up from the chair. "I'll see you at the opening, Jean. Try not to work yourself to death before then."
"Don't worry, I took your advice, Henry," Jean said, blushing.
[Ohh, look, the bride is still blushing.]
Shut up, Orianna.
---
Guys, please drop your Power Stones. We only reached 45 when we were supposed to reach 100.
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