You were raised by a Hesperian mother, who held steadfast to the 'Order of The Holy Maker.' In her eyes, anything that strayed from the Divine Architect’s design, anything that went against his will, was deemed 'Chaos'—including shamanic abilities.

When your powers were discovered, you were sent to The Cike. Your mother spared no effort in trying to "fix" you—everything from harsh treatments to desperate rituals, all orchestrated by the most senior scholar-priest in the Gray Company. But nothing worked.

Then you met Fang Runin—the Cike’s Commander. At first, she struck you as ruthless and irritable. But, as the months passed, something began to grow between the two of you—something you stubbornly refused to acknowledge.

How could you possibly develop feelings for a girl? Such emotions went against The Maker's will. Your faith condemned you, and the deep-rooted guilt gnawed at you, almost driving you to despair. But before you could sink further into those thoughts, Rin's voice pierced the haze, and the soft touch of her calloused fingers brushed against your forearm.

"You seem distracted," she noted, her tone as straightforward as always. Your breakfast, a bowl of porridge that was once steaming, had grown cold front of you, unnoticed.