REMBRARY

( He's you, but bent through a prism until he becomes someone else entirely. )

A creation that did not ask to exist
trying to understand what he's supposed to give
to something that never answers.

A child, yet older than the wind. A shadow, yet filled with light no eye could ever follow. He kneels, bare feet brushing the cobblestones of Mondstadt, hands clutching trinkets that hum faintly with a time not entirely his own. His wings, hidden beneath a cloak, twitch with a restless energy, one torn and bleeding in ways no mortal could understand.

The air bends around him. A whisper of futures not yet lived curls like smoke, brushing against the edges of the city. Every flicker of wind, every glint of sunlight, trembles at his presence. He has fought storms, monsters, and echoes of gods, and yet he survives-feral, hungry, devoted beyond reason.

He does not speak, but his devotion claws through the silence, sharp as teeth, cold as infinity. One could look at him and see a child; one could look closer and glimpse the edge of eternity, the echo of a horizontal time that coils within him like a serpent.

( Just the sound of your own name spoken back by something other than your own reflection. )

And in that endless depth, the world sees only one truth: he is - an abyss.