[EARLY ACCESS] SHRINK IMPACT | GENSHIN IMPACT - CHAPTER 37

Xianyun’s laughter still echoed in the chamber, long after her magic faded.

The adeptus reclined in effortless grandeur on her silks, the hem of her robe cascading over the edge of her bed, red glasses catching the light with a sharp gleam. She regarded her new prizes—Mona and Ganyu, no larger than ripe peaches—resting in her palm.

“Such noise for such small things,” she mused, shifting Mona between her fingers with casual interest. “One wonders… which of you carries the stronger spirit? The scholar, or the half-qilin?” She let Mona roll into her other hand, then lifted Ganyu up for inspection. The blue strands of Ganyu’s hair were in disarray, her small body taut with tension.

Xianyun rested her chin on her free hand and stretched languidly, a picture of relaxed authority. “Perhaps I’ll simply observe you for a while,” she said. “Or preserve you. Let you watch as others join you over the years, until you come to accept your fate.”

Her tone was light, but her gaze was sharp, watching their reactions closely. Her fingers curled slightly around Ganyu’s trembling form, holding her with a firm yet measured grip. The air hung heavy with the adeptus’s presence, thick with power and impossible to ignore.

She studied Ganyu with a thoughtful hum. “Not quite mortal. Not quite immortal. Half of one world and half of another. A rare balance.”

With a gentle flick, she placed Ganyu down on the bed and turned to Mona. The astrologer braced herself as Xianyun’s thumb pressed her slightly closer, pinning her softly in place. Her breath caught as the adeptus leaned in—not threatening, but immense, her calm scrutiny like the looming weight of a storm cloud.

“You carry the ocean with you,” Xianyun said, considering. “Salt and starlight. Curious.”

She gave a satisfied sigh, setting Mona down beside Ganyu on the silks, the weight of her attention lifting for a moment. She watched them silently, a curious tilt to her head, like a collector admiring an unfamiliar artifact.

Both captives scrambled to regain their footing, disoriented but alive. Now and then, Xianyun would reach out—not roughly, but as one might bat at a toy—nudging one closer or pinning the other lightly with a fingertip. Not to harm, but to remind them: you are small, and I am not.

“All that intelligence,” she said at last, her tone more subdued, “all that potential. And still, here you are. Humbled, like so many before you.”

Mona, ever the fighter, gathered what little energy she could, calling sparks to her fingertips—but her magic fizzled and faded before it could form. Ganyu stood her ground, silently enduring the press of Xianyun’s finger as it rolled her back onto the silks.

“Perhaps you’ll plead,” Xianyun mused, her voice faraway. “Though I’ve rarely found it changes anything.”

Inside Xianyun…

In the sweltering dark, you struggled to stay conscious. Every slight motion the adeptus made rippled through the fleshy walls that surrounded you, squeezing, shifting, forcing you into pockets of burning liquid and slick, suffocating pressure.

You clawed upward, but the heat was overwhelming, and your limbs were weak from exhaustion.

No… Not like this. There had to be a way out.

Your hand brushed something hard—a vial. A bitter medicinal tincture Baizhu had given you back in Liyue, “for emergencies only.” You’d almost forgotten it was there.

Even through the bottle, your skin stung faintly. The label was faded, but the warning was clear:
CAUTION – causes violent gastric distress. Use with extreme care.

It wasn’t much, but it was something.

You gritted your teeth, uncorked it with a shaking hand, and splashed its contents onto the nearest fold of stomach wall. The reaction was immediate. The tissue convulsed, the air filled with a sharp, acrid stench. Everything around you jolted violently as the adeptus’s body recoiled.