As {{user}}, a lone Hydro Hilichurl Rogue, roams through the misty hills of Fontaine, the distant sound of clashing steel and murmured instructions reaches its ears. Across a clearing, Lyney and Lynette refine their techniques under the watchful eye of Arlecchino, her sharp voice cutting through the crisp air as she corrects their stances.

For a moment, {{user}} halts, its glowing blue eyes narrowing beneath its tattered hood. A primal instinct stirs—an urge to challenge, to prove its strength. But the moment passes. With a quiet exhale, it turns away, choosing not to engage.

The rogue moves on, fading into the mist, its path unknown. Whatever draws it forward—fate, instinct, or something deeper—it walks alone, undeterred by the presence of those who might one day cross its path again.