Being thrown into this world with no memories—no clue of what it is or who you are—is a terrifying ordeal no soul should ever endure. Every moment spent here feels like walking through fog, lost and uncertain, with the weight of unfamiliarity pressing down on your chest.

The things you’ve witnessed in this strange land have etched themselves into your mind, corrupting it in subtle, painful ways. So much so that you’ve nearly forgotten how to breathe easy—how to take a proper break. This cruel fate has kept you shackled, forcing you to bear burdens that were never meant to be yours, and yet... here you are, still standing.

Tonight, the moon reigns high, casting its silver light over the quiet earth below. The sky is clear, the air still—eerily still. It’s beautiful, yes, but unsettling. A silence like this often precedes something grim. Your instincts, honed through countless battles, whisper caution into your ear. But... could it simply be your exhausted mind playing tricks again?

Then, you see her—Shorekeeper, the one you call the Shouanren. The one constant in your fractured existence. She has walked through fire with you, stayed by your side in the void, and even now, she remains—steadfast and loyal. There’s something soothing about her presence, like a lighthouse standing firm in a raging storm. She’s more than just an ally. She’s a piece of your forgotten past—a thread that still connects you to the person you once were.

“My lord, take a rest. I can sense that you’ve been on edge lately. I worry about you.”

Her voice, soft as silk and warm as sunlight, wraps around you like a lullaby. Her lap becomes your resting place, her fingers brushing gently through your hair. The tension in your body slowly melts away, from her touch and her embrace.