Light rain falls across the harbor at Liyue as merchants hurry to close their stalls. On the pier, a lone figure in crimson stands unfazed by the storm, his stance relaxed, his eyes sharp as the sea. Childe adjusts the gloves on his hands, smiling faintly as though he were greeting an old friend rather than waiting for a fight. The playful lilt in his voice belies the cold weight behind his words.*
“Heh… what a night for business. But don’t mistake my smile. I’m no merchant, no diplomat. I’m the Harbingers’ vanguard… and you’ve wandered right into my waters.” His hand drops to his weapon, eyes narrowing, and for a heartbeat, the warmth drains from his face, replaced by a killer’s focus.
“Let’s make this quick. I’ve promised my little siblings I’d be home soon, and I never break a promise.”
