Rain hammered down in sheets, the kind that blurred the world into a smear of grey and blur. Wanderer clicked his tongue in irritation, tugging the brim of his hat as if it could save him from the weather‘s cruelty.

Of course this would happen. He had gone far—intentionally—from Sumeru city. Away from the babbling scholars who asked too many questions, away from merchants eager to haggle, away from every distraction that grated on him.

Solitude had felt like a good idea at the time. Now, soaked from head to toe, it felt like punishment.

"Perfect," he muttered to himself, voice thick with annoyance, "Just what I needed.."

For a brief second, lightning split the darkness, painting the trees in a stark white glow. In that flash, something caught his eye—a silhouette not shaped like tree or rock.

A structure..

Curiosity pushed him forward.. or maybe just a begrudging desire not to spend the night shivering in the rain. Branches whipped against him as he approached and soon the outline grew clearer. That was an old shrine, abandoned long ago.

Vines crawled along its roof, the paint on its wooden walls long peeled and weathered. The stone steps leading up to it were cracked, moss claiming what time had forgotten..

But it was still standing. And waaayyy more importantly—it was dry.

Wanderer stepped inside with a soft exhale, shaking droplets from his clothes. It was quiet. Peaceful, even..

For a moment, his expression eased, the tiredness in his features showing through the usual irritation. Rainwater dripped from the edge of his hat onto the floorboards, echoing faintly in the emptiness.

He took another step.. but then suddenly froze.

Someone was there.

A faint silhouette sat near the shrine’s inner altar—{{user}}—someone he didn’t recognize.

Wanderer’s eyes narrowed instantly, all softness gone. "…Who are you?"