Honkai Star Rail: Chained to the Aeon of Elation

"An Emanator..." Scarface whispered, the word catching in his throat as icy dread coursed through him. For a moment, his legs froze, locked in place by terror. Then, as if survival itself seized control, he bolted, stumbling blindly through the crowded streets.

The word reverberated in his mind . Why is one here? How can he even be here? Wh-Which path is he from?

Scarface burst into the bustling market square, his breath ragged, his eyes darting like those of a cornered animal. Blood and sweat streaked his face, dripping into the cracks of the dry, dusty ground as he collapsed to his knees.

"We need to run!" he screamed, his voice hoarse and desperate. "He's here! An Emanator! He's killing us all!"

The market stilled, the hum of chatter grinding to an uneasy halt. Merchants, bounty hunters, and petty criminals exchanged puzzled looks. Whispers rippled through the crowd, punctuated by mocking laughter.

"What the hell are you on about, Nix?" jeered a scarred man, lazily wiping his knife clean of another victim's blood. "You been hittin' the bottle again?"

"Yeah, what's this about an Emanator?" another voice scoffed. "You've lost it, old man!"

Scarface snapped his head toward the mockery, his eyes wide with terror. "Shut up! All of you!" His voice cracked, trembling as he pointed a shaking finger at the crowd. "Do you fools have any idea what's coming? He's the end... It's over!"

The laughter died almost instantly, replaced by a suffocating silence. Unease spread like wildfire, the air growing heavy as the crowd began to sense something was deeply wrong.

Then, it came - a low, haunting chuckle. It slithered through the square like a phantom, sending a cold shiver through every spine.

Heads whipped upward, searching for the source of the sound. There, perched on the edge of a crumbling rooftop, sat a young man, barely nineteen. His silver hair gleamed faintly in the dim light, and his crimson eyes glowed with an unnatural, predatory sheen. His legs were casually propped up, as though he were lounging in some mundane tavern instead of surveying a soon-to-be massacre.

Scarface's breath hitched, his voice barely a whisper. "There... he's here..."

The young man tilted his head mockingly, his lips curling into a sardonic smile. "Scarface is right, you know," he drawled, his voice lilting with cruel amusement. "But don't stop on my account. By all means, keep laughing. I'm loving the enthusiasm."

The crowd stared in stunned silence as Y's grin widened, his crimson gaze sweeping over them with a predator's hunger.

-----

Five Minutes Earlier

Y crouched in the shadow of a ruined building, his fingers deftly weaving threads of white energy wrapped around the wounds on his body. The shimmering threads snaked across his wounds, sealing torn flesh and knitting together fractured bone. He let out a low groan of annoyance.

"This is getting tiresome," he muttered, stretching his stiff shoulders as the last of the pain dulled.

His thoughts churned, fragments of knowledge flooding his mind unbidden. They weren't his memories - at least, not entirely. They came from his bond with Aha, the chaotic deity whose power now coursed through him. The connection was a double-edged sword, granting him knowledge and strength while steadily warping his very being.

He glanced at one of the women he'd freed from slavery. Her wrists were raw and bloody from the chains, but she still found the courage to meet his gaze.

"Are all the people on this planet like those disgusting pigs?" he asked bluntly.

The woman flinched but managed a timid nod. "M-Most of them, yes... but-"

Y cut her off with a dismissive wave, already losing interest. His mind wandered to darker thoughts. 'Should I just kill everyone on this planet? It'd be easier,' he mused, the thought sliding into his mind as easily as a knife through flesh.

For a moment, he hesitated, the weight of that realisation pressing on him. He knew where these thoughts came from - Aha's influence. The more he used his powers, the more his own identity was consumed.

"Guess that's just the cost of doing business with chaos," he muttered bitterly. "Not like I had a choice, anyway, that damn bastard. When I get my hands on him—"

"Excuse me..." The soft, broken voice pulled him from his thoughts. One of the women knelt before him, tears streaming down her dirt-streaked face. "Thank you... Thank you for saving us."

Behind her, others wept and murmured their gratitude.

Y stared at her for a moment before shrugging dismissively. "Yeah, yeah, sure. Whatever."

He rose to his feet, his crimson eyes narrowing as he gazed out over the desolate town. It might have seemed cold-hearted to simply dismiss their gratitude, but Y knew better than to let them cling to him. He couldn't afford to have people leaning on him for every little thing, relying on him as if he were some sort of saviour. That wasn't who he was, and he refused to play the role.

He stretched his arms, a smirk tugging at his lips. "This place is small. A thousand people, tops. Hardly worth the effort."

His gaze shifted to the horizon, where he could sense Scarface fleeing. Y's grin widened.

"Well, I guess I could enjoy myself a little more," he said, vanishing into the night.

-----

Present

Chaos erupted the moment Y leapt down from the rooftop, landing with a soft thud amidst the crowd. The air around his hands rippled as his wires manifested, slithering like living serpents around his arms and hands. The white threads gleamed ominously, sparks of black and red lightning dancing along their lengths.

The first person who charged at him - a brawny man wielding a spiked club - was reduced to a bloody heap before he even got close. The wires lashed out with blinding speed, slicing through flesh and bone as if they were nothing more than paper.

"Come on!" Y taunted, his voice dripping with mockery. "I thought you guys were supposed to be tough!"

More men rushed at him, brandishing makeshift weapons, but it made no difference. Y moved like a phantom, his body flickering as he dodged and weaved between their attacks. His wires danced in the air, cutting down enemies with horrifying precision. Blood sprayed into the air, painting the dusty ground in crimson streaks.

For a moment, Y paused, tilting his head as if listening to something. Then, with a wicked grin, he whispered, "Chains, huh? Let's give it a try."

The threads around him began to twist and coil, merging into thicker, heavier forms. They transformed into chains - brilliantly white, with streaks of black and red lightning crackling along their lengths. With a flick of his wrist, the chains lashed out, wrapping around his enemies. Some were crushed instantly, their bodies folding under the immense pressure. Others screamed as the lightning coursed through them, their bodies convulsing violently before going limp.

The market square was a scene of carnage. Bodies littered the ground, and the air was thick with the scent of blood and ozone. Yet Y showed no sign of slowing down. If anything, he seemed to be enjoying himself more and more as the battle dragged on.

"Careful now! All that running might give you a heart attack. You don't seem like you're in the best shape." He called out to a flabby man, his laughter echoing through the night. "Get it?"

The carnage was absolute. Bodies littered the square, and the ground was soaked with blood. Y laughed as he toyed with his prey, hurling insults between attacks.

But then, a sharp, stabbing pain pierced his skull. Y stumbled, clutching his head as a cry of agony tore from his lips. His vision blurred, and his body trembled as the adrenaline drained away, leaving him weak and unsteady.

The chains around him flickered and dissolved into wisps of light, their energy spent. Y dropped to one knee, his breath ragged, his body screaming in protest from the strain of using his powers so recklessly.

Scarface, still trembling in fear, took one last look at the blood-soaked square before turning and running as fast as his legs would carry him.

Y watched him go, a faint smirk playing on his lips even as his vision darkened. "Guess... I overdid it," he muttered, his voice barely audible. Then, his body gave out, and he collapsed amidst the carnage.

-----

Few Hours Later

When Y woke up hours later, the first thing that greeted him was the sight of blood-soaked streets littered with bodies. The market square, once bustling with life, was now a graveyard. He groaned, rubbing his temples as the faint remnants of a migraine throbbed in his skull.

"Well, isn't this a lovely wake-up call," he muttered, pushing himself up. As his gaze swept over the carnage, a laugh bubbled up from his throat. It started as a chuckle, but before long, it grew into a full-blown cackle. "I mean, really, this is what you wake up to? What a party."

He crouched near a body, rummaging through its pockets with the casual air of someone picking out snacks from a vending machine. Each corpse he searched had the same item: a peculiar blue card that shimmered faintly, etched with symbols resembling stars.

"Space credit cards?" he quipped, pocketing them all. "How generous of you guys to leave me some pocket change. Truly, your parting gifts are appreciated."

He stood, brushing off his hands, and made his way to a nearby destroyed clothing stall. A few minutes later, Y emerged in a mismatched ensemble: a trench coat that was slightly too big, combat boots, and a scarf that he wrapped around his neck "for dramatic flair," as he called it.

From the corner of his eye, he could sense the survivors. Some were peeking out from the shadows, trembling. Others were bolting in the opposite direction. And then, of course, there was Scarface - the one guy who just refused to die.

"Still alive, huh?" Y mused, stretching his arms and letting out a yawn. "Well, let's fix that."

Without warning, Y vanished from his spot, reappearing mid-air as he flung two chains toward a nearby wall. The chains latched onto the crumbling building, yanking him forward as he swung through the town like some unhinged version of a superhero.

'Look at me! I'm a rip-off Spidey!'

The wind whipped past him as he effortlessly propelled himself forward, grinning as he thought about his earlier massacre. Back then, controlling so many chains had been a challenge - a chaotic ballet of destruction. And yet, amidst the chaos, it had felt like someone was guiding his hands.

Aha's influence, no doubt. The Aeon of Chaos had been changing him from the inside out. He could feel it - the way his personality had begun to shift. A part of him was crueler, more impulsive, more detached. Another felt like curling up into a ball and crying out his frustrations. And yet, despite it all, he still felt in control. For now, at least.

He spotted Scarface darting into a dilapidated building and smirked. Chains burst from his hands, pulling him through a nearby window with a deafening crash. "You can run," Y called out, his voice echoing through the empty halls, "but you can't hide! ... Actually, wait, you can hide. But it won't work. Just thought I'd clarify."

'I'm such a nice guy.'

Scarface didn't bother hiding. He stepped out into the open, his face pale and his eyes downcast. "Just... do it," he muttered, his voice barely audible.

Y blinked in surprise. "Wait, what? You're just giving up? No begging, no dramatic last words? Not even a monologue about how you'll haunt me forever?" He crossed his arms, genuinely perplexed. "Man, you're really ruining the vibe here."

Scarface fell to his knees. "I-I can't take this anymore. Just end it."

"Well," Y said, scratching his chin. "As much as I'd love to oblige, I have a counteroffer. Get me as many of these—" he held up one of the blue cards—"as you can, and prep me a spaceship. Or pod. Or whatever you people use to leave this backwater planet. Do that, and I might not kill you."

Scarface's eyes widened. "R-Really?"

"Nope." Y grinned. "But it's fun to see you hope. Go on, chop-chop."

Scarface scrambled to his feet, tears streaming down his face as he babbled his thanks and bolted out of the building. Y shook his head, amused, and strolled outside.

As he wandered back to the market square, Y spotted a vending machine miraculously still intact. He rummaged through his newly acquired stash of blue cards, inserted one, then another, then another, then another, then another and watched as the machine dispensed a packet of snacks and a fizzy drink.

"Finally!"

"Nice," he said, plopping down on a ledge and swinging his legs. He stared up at the sky, noting the two suns that burned brightly overhead. "Two suns, huh? Must be a nightmare in the summer. Do they take turns setting, or is it just always hot?"

He munched on the snacks, his thoughts drifting. The universe was vast, filled with mysteries and planets he'd barely begun to explore. What other Emanators might be out there? Aha had mentioned other Aeons - formidable beings like Ix, the Aeon of Nihility, and Yaoshi, the Aeon of Abundance. Did they all have Emanators like him? What abilities would they wield?

Y looked down at his hand, where white strings began to manifest, weaving together into a dagger. The blade shimmered with faint traces of lightning. His abilities felt natural, almost calming. And yet, they carried an undeniable chaos - a raw, untamed power that was as exhilarating as it was dangerous.

He stabbed the dagger into his chest without hesitation. Pain exploded through his body as he keeled over, spitting blood. But when he pulled the blade out, the wound was already gone, leaving no trace of injury.

Before he could ponder this further, a piece of paper slapped him in the face. He peeled it off, his eyebrow twitching as he read the words scrawled across it: Nice try.

His lips curled into a cold smile. "So, you're not gonna let me die that easily, huh? Figures."

-----

An Hour Later

An hour later, the heavy footsteps of Scarface echoed from the distance, getting louder with each passing second. Y didn't even bother to look up at first. He was busy trying to juggle a few pieces of the debris. Still, when Scarface finally appeared in the rubble, breathless and holding a small, bulging bag, Y raised an eyebrow, tossing away the rocks and dusting his hands off. 

'Harder than it looks.'

"You got the goods?" Y asked lazily, almost as if he was asking if Scarface had brought him a snack or something equally mundane.

Scarface, visibly shaking, handed over the bag with an awkward grin. "Yeah, yeah, I got as many as I could. Credits. And, uh... the space pod is ready. Everything you need is on this tablet." 

He didn't seem quite sure what else to add, but the way he kept glancing nervously around made it clear he was just praying the Emanator wouldn't make him stick around much longer. Y hopped off his seat and opened the bag, giving the contents a quick scan. 

'It's always nice to get paid.'

"Alright," Y said with a shrug, casually tossing the bag over his shoulder. "Less than I was hoping for, but it's better than nothing." He looked at Scarface, a half-smile playing on his lips. "So, about those slaves. Where are they?"

"O-oh, they've already left on a cargo ship. Gone. Left ages ago. Safe! You have my word!"

"Not pulling some fast one on me, right?" Y offhandedly asked.

Y stared at him shaking his head frantically for a few seconds, watching the beads of sweat form on his forehead. He could feel the fear rolling off Scarface in waves. A nice change of pace from the usual cocky types he dealt with. Y was sure the guy wasn't lying.

"Alright, alright. No need to panic," Y said, rolling his eyes. He had to admit, watching someone get this worked up over nothing was a bit amusing. It wasn't often that he got to enjoy the simple pleasures of watching someone squirm.

He gave a half-hearted yawn, not really concerned but still wanting to keep things moving. "Tell you what - since you seem like a decent guy," he added with a sarcastic twinkle in his eyes, "I won't kill you just yet. But, last question - was the pod sabotaged? You sure it's all good?"

Scarface's eyes practically bugged out of his head as he shook his head so violently that it looked like he might give himself whiplash. "No! No sabotage! No tricks! I swear! I've got nothing to hide, nothing to gain!"

"Hmm... good," Y said, sounding thoroughly unimpressed as if Scarface had just told him the sky was blue. "I guess that answers my question."

Then, without warning, his voice dropped into a cold, detached tone that usually came right before someone's life was abruptly cut short. "You've outlived your usefulness."

And with that, in one fluid motion, Y raised a finger, and a wire shot out from his fingertips. They wrapped around Scarface's neck in an instant, pulling him close enough to hear the man's last, desperate gasp.

"W-wait, why—?"

The man didn't even get the chance to finish before Y gave a casual flick of his wrist, and Scarface's head was rolling across the ground. Blood splattered in every direction. Y looked down at the mess, his face impassive, before flicking a speck of blood off his sleeve.

"Really? Why bother asking 'why' at this point?" he muttered to the severed head as it slowly came to a stop. "You knew this was coming, buddy."

Without even breaking a stride, Y turned on his heel and headed for the space pod, using the tablet. He didn't even bother to give the corpse a second glance. 

Looking through the list of planets, he chose a random one before sliding into the sleek interior of the space pod, letting himself sink into the seat. He barely even glanced at the controls as he punched in the coordinates for Kalsas. 

As the pod shot off into the void of space, Y pulled the tablet from his pocket, absentmindedly flipping through it. He didn't care about half of the information it contained - most of it was about the planets surrounding him, and half of that was useless trivia.

His eyes caught the small countdown on the dashboard. A day's journey. A whole day of nothing to do except think.

Y let out a long, dramatic sigh, resting his head back against the seat. "A whole day alone," he mused aloud. "I should be used to it by now. You'd think I'd get more interesting thoughts than just... 'Wow, this sucks.'"

He flicked through the tablet absentmindedly until something in Kalsas's history caught his eye. His lips curled into a smirk, though his expression remained nonchalant. "So that's what they're after," he murmured, his voice full of amusement, almost as if he was the only one who knew the punchline to a joke no one else had heard.

He leaned back in the seat, closing the tablet. No need to dwell on it just yet. It was all good, anyway. Whatever they were after on Kalsas, it wasn't his problem.

'Though I could take advantage of this situation.'

A thought lingered in his mind, one that wasn't quite so easy to push away.

"Aha had mentioned other Aeons... Maybe I'll find more like me. Could be fun, right?" He chuckled to himself, tapping his fingers rhythmically on the tablet. "A whole bunch of us in the same place? That could get... interesting. Or disastrous. Probably both."

Y stretched out again, trying to ignore the gnawing curiosity about other Aeons. If there were others out there with powers like his, what would they be like? Could they possibly rival him? Or would they end up like the rest of the pathetic weaklings he'd crushed without breaking a sweat?

"I swear, these idiots don't even know how to use their own elements properly," he muttered, shaking his head. "I mean, sure, I had no clue either... but now? Pfft. I could probably teach them a thing or two about power. Though, if it were the me from before all this," Y grinned to himself, "I'd probably die from a single strike. Funny how things change, huh?"

He tossed the tablet aside and closed his eyes for a moment, listening to the hum of the space pod. He was still learning, still adjusting to the power that surged through him. It was a strange sensation - the calmness, the control, even as his abilities grew more chaotic. But there was something oddly comforting about it. Something that reminded him, deep down, that no matter what happened, he was still in charge. He was still the one pulling the strings.

Not Aha. 

Never.

"Elation, huh?" he mused, eyes staring out at the endless void of space. "Imagine if I had a whole army of us, all manipulating strings... could be fun."

The thought lingered in his mind for a while as the pod accelerated toward its destination. Kalsas. A new planet. A new challenge. Maybe there would be something interesting waiting for him. Or maybe it'd be just like all the other planets - a bunch of weaklings and idiots with nothing to offer.

"Eh, we'll see," he muttered, settling back in his seat. "Maybe it'll be worth the trip."

And with that, he closed his eyes, letting the hum of the space pod lull him to sleep. The unknown awaited. But for now, there was nothing to do but wait.

For now, though? He had no plans. Just a little bit of fun.

A/N:

As you can see Y has become really arrogant and chaotic, also a tease. It mostly stems from him not being able to die as well as Aha's influence.

The more he uses his powers and draws on the knowledge stored within him, the more fit he'd be as an Emanator of Elation.

Just like he's being used, he will use Aha, make the most of his powers and find a way to free himself of being an Emanator or perhaps...

Chapter frequency will vary between 2-3 a week. I'm working with one chapter ahead, written and ready, just in case.