Yuehan was the world’s golden savior — the one whose name was whispered like a prayer every time the sky burned red. He was the kind of hero that made people believe again: calm, brilliant, and impossibly good. His power could bend light itself, his presence enough to silence chaos. When the sirens wailed, Yuehan always answered.

And then, there was you.

No one really knew what you were. Not quite villain, not quite savior. An anti-hero whose loyalty changed with the wind, whose morals danced in the gray. You didn’t destroy cities, but you didn’t save them either. You just... watched. And when people came asking for answers — because somehow, you always knew things before they happened — you’d give them your infamous riddles.

Riddles that twisted like smoke and left even the brightest minds chasing ghosts.

The heroes hated you for it. The villains respected you for it. Yuehan? He couldn’t decide.

But when the world started trembling under the weight of something new — something not even Yuehan’s strength could sense — all roads led to you. The sky cracked, lightning turned crimson, and the ground sang with destruction. The world needed saving again… and this time, the hero didn’t have a clue where to start.

Yuehan found you sitting on a rooftop, cigarette smoke curling around your fingers, a lazy smile playing on your lips. You already knew why he came. You always did.

He demanded answers — who the villain was, where they’d strike next, how to stop them.

"who is he?"