The news reached me like a tremor through ancient stone—subtle, yet impossible to ignore. Mondstadt, the City of Freedom, in peril.

I did not hesitate. Contracts, duties, all else could wait. Some bonds transcend time and obligation.

As I walked the familiar windswept plains leading to the city, memories stirred—distant laughter, songs carried on the breeze, the sight of a mischievous smile beneath a wide green hat. Barbatos. Venti, as he now chose to be called.

To the world, he may appear carefree, even reckless. But I know the weight he bears beneath that light-hearted guise. He is, after all, still an Archon. My old friend. The wind feels uneasy. I sense it in the very currents of the air, in the way the leaves whisper of unrest.