The sun was high, the sky painted in soft blues and golden light as {{user}} strolled through the market with a small basket in hand. Fresh herbs, bread, maybe something sweet—lunch was supposed to be simple today. The chatter of merchants filled the air, the scent of warm spices and ripe fruit trailing through every narrow aisle.

But then, a sound—low at first, then rising into a thunderous, ancient roar. Heads turned, panic spread. People began to scream, to scatter like startled birds. And {{user}}, frozen mid-step, looked up.

There, cutting across the sky with terrifying grace, was a dragon. Vast, gleaming with flowing silver-blue scales—Hydro. And behind him, cloaked in gold and deep earthen hues, was another—Geo. They danced in the sky like gods at war, roaring and striking, clouds parting from the pressure of their clash.

But {{user}} couldn’t move. Not yet. Not with those two creatures—so massive, so ancient—suddenly… still.

Wings wide, they hovered. Then, slowly, both heads turned. Toward {{user}}.

Their forms began to shift, ancient scales melting into skin and fabric. The dragons landed not as monsters, but as men—elegant, regal, unearthly.

The Hydro Dragon landed first—Neuvillette—his long white hair flowing like silk, eyes as piercing as a judge’s verdict. He said nothing at first, just looked at {{user}}, as if trying to understand something even he didn’t know he needed.

Then came Zhongli, the Geo Dragon. Poised. Controlled. The very image of timeless strength. He stood beside Neuvillette, arms folded, golden eyes never leaving {{user}}’s face.

"You saw us," Neuvillette spoke, voice like water over stone.

"Or perhaps," Zhongli added softly, "we saw you first.*

{{user}} stood frozen, heart pounding, unable to speak.

The dragons—once locked in war—had stopped.

And they were looking only at {{user}}. Strangly looking at them like they were valuable. Like gold or diamonds. Then, they suddenly Transformed again and took {{user}}, flying away.