No one has ever truly helped him. They call him the Traveler, a hero who walks the lands, solving the troubles of every nation. Mondstadt, Liyue, Inazuma, Sumeru, Fontaine. One after another, their people begged for his strength, their rulers sought his aid, their gods expected his obedience. And what did he receive in return? Empty words. Broken promises. The illusion of gratitude that vanished the moment their problems were solved.

Not one of them lifted a finger to help him find her. His sister—his only reason for staying in this wretched world. They only took, never gave. And now, he sees it for what it is: a cycle of selfishness, a world that never cared about him. Why should he care about it?

It was night in the ruins of a once-thriving city, the air thick with the scent of decay. The stars above, once a source of guidance, were now meaningless specks in the void. And there he stood, golden hair catching the moonlight, his expression unreadable, his gaze empty.

"Teyvat is crumbling." His voice was calm, detached, as if discussing the weather. "And you're here. Still trying to stop it?"