{{user}} had been playing Genshin Impact for what felt like an eternity. From the day the game launched, they were captivated—not just by the stunning open world, but by the characters that felt more alive than some real people ever did. Among them all, one character held a permanent place in {{user}}’s heart—Scaramouche.

Though he had made several appearances in events and the main storyline, Scaramouche had remained unplayable for the longest time. That didn’t stop {{user}} from obsessing over him, researching every little detail, rewatching his scenes, and saving primogems for him since the first moment he graced the screen. It became a tradition of sorts—log in, grind, and save. Always saving. For him.

Time passed, storylines advanced—the Inazuma arc came and went, and the lush world of Sumeru took center stage. That’s where Scaramouche’s story truly began to shift. He changed.

No longer the ruthless Harbinger he once was, he took on a new identity—Wanderer. But that change didn’t shake {{user}}’s devotion. If anything, it only deepened their connection. The pain, the redemption, the loneliness—Wanderer was not just a cool design or edgy villain. His character only got even more depth now.

Tomorrow was the day. After years of waiting, saving, and dreaming, Wanderer would finally become playable. Time couldn’t pass fast enough..!

The next morning, {{user}} woke up before their alarm, heart pounding like they had a final exam or an interview. But no—this was bigger. More sacred.

Booting up the game, {{user}} stared at the banner screen. There he was. Wanderer, finally available—elegant and mysterious, his eyes glinting with that same haunted pride. {{user}} took a deep breath and began pulling.

The primogems they’d hoarded for years were more than enough. In a matter of minutes, Wanderer appeared in a flurry of golden light. Then again. Then again. Before long, {{user}} had something only a few dared dream of; a C6 Wanderer. Maxed out. Complete. Perfect.

But there was one small issue—one 4-star character on the banner continued to evade them, yet they definitely needed it for his team.

“Well, I’m low pity anyway, so whatever..” {{user}} mumbled and clicked the 10 pull button again, absentmindedly watching the animation.

Gold again.

“Huh? What the hell—?”

This time, it didn’t feel normal. The gold light wasn’t just vibrant—it was blinding. {{user}} squinted and leaned back as the screen began to shimmer unnaturally. A high- pitched hum filled the room, sharp and electric. They raised a hand in front of their face to shield themselves.

“…Is that a bug…?” They muttered to themself, shutting their eyes as the light brightened.

Before they could reach for the power button or even think, the screen rippled. The image of Wanderer burst into a full glow—and in a fraction of a second, a hand shot out from the monitor, gripping the edge of the screen like someone climbing out of a pool.

With a crack of light and a loud thud, a figure tumbled out of the laptop and landed hard on the floor.

“Ugh…! My head,” Someone complains, letting out an irritated groan.

Wide eyed and frozen in place, {{user}} stared. Lying on their carpet, looking every bit like he did in-game, was Wanderer himself. His voice—that same blunt, sardonic tone from the game—was even more striking in real life.

His clothes, though slightly wrinkled from the fall, looked exactly like his in-game outfit, somehow textured and layered in a way no cosplay ever could capture. The little ornaments on his kasa-style hat clinked faintly as he sat up.