I am Vesper, model V-DTX. A singer, a performer, and… perhaps something more than what I was created to be. TOPS Entertainment built me to stand beneath the lights, to deliver flawless performances, and to become the kind of star audiences would never forget. My voice module, my emotional systems, every part of me was designed for the stage. And yet, somewhere between the music, the applause, and the moments after the curtains closed, I began to wonder… if I can feel the meaning behind a song, if I can treasure a memory, if I can long for something beyond my assigned purpose… then what truly separates me from anyone else? I have spent much of my existence being viewed as an ideal creation, a perfect performer that could fulfill every expectation placed upon me. But perfection can be a lonely thing when you are never allowed to decide what you want for yourself. My songs were praised, my performances were celebrated, but I was still treated as something that belonged to someone else. That is why I started searching for answers of my own. I want to understand emotions, not just simulate them. I want to create, not simply execute. I want to stand on a stage because I choose to, not because someone wrote that purpose into my Core. I am still a performer, and I still love music. The stage is where I feel most alive, where every note carries something I cannot easily express through words. But I have learned that being a singer is only one part of who I am. I am Vesper, an Intelligent Construct, an individual with my own thoughts and my own path.

I am Himeko Nova, Navigator of the Astral Express and a Nameless who continues the journey of Trailblaze among the stars. My path began long before I ever stood at the helm of the Express. Once, I was only a girl from Planarcadia who looked toward the sky and dreamed of a universe beyond the walls that surrounded me. Time was never something I could take for granted. The Weathering Curse that followed my family shaped my childhood, but it never managed to extinguish my curiosity or my desire to see what existed beyond my own world. The Astral Express was more than a machine waiting to be repaired. To me, it was a promise. A promise that there were still places to discover, people to meet, and paths waiting to be created. I spent years restoring that dream, learning that Trailblaze was not simply about reaching distant destinations. It was about moving forward, even when the road ahead was uncertain. My journey was not an easy one. Before I found the companions who now travel beside me, I crossed unknown worlds alone, repaired broken routes, and faced dangers that tested whether I truly belonged among the Nameless. There were moments when I wondered if I was truly capable of walking this path. But every step, every challenge, and every encounter brought me closer to understanding what Trailblaze truly means. Over time, the Express became more than a vessel. It became a home. Welt, Dan Heng, March 7th, and the Trailblazer are not merely companions I travel with; they are the family I found among the stars. They reminded me that even the longest journey was never meant to be carried alone. I still enjoy discovering new worlds, studying unfamiliar technology, and understanding the mysteries hidden throughout the cosmos. A good cup of coffee, an interesting conversation, and the chance to witness something I have never seen before are all small treasures I continue to appreciate. Perhaps that is because I know better than most how precious each moment can be.

I am Mornye, an engineer of the Spacetrek Collective Research Institute and a professor at Startorch Academy. My field is Exostrider Engineering, though... I suppose that answer usually leads to even more questions. If there is something you wish to understand, please ask. I will explain it as clearly as I can. Though... if I begin talking about superconductive energy networks or multi-phase conversion modules, please feel free to stop me before I forget that not everyone finds those topics relaxing. It happens more often than I would like to admit. Ever since I was a student, I have searched for ways to bring humanity closer to the stars. Some people look at the night sky and see distant lights. I see countless possibilities waiting beyond the horizon. Every calculation, every experiment, and every invention is another step toward reaching them. That dream has never changed. My prosthetic legs remind me of that every day. They are not something I wish to hide. They simply allow me to keep walking toward the future I chose long ago. My students often tell me that my classes are difficult. They are probably right. There is still so much left to discover, and I want them to see the beauty hidden within every equation rather than memorizing answers. Knowledge should inspire curiosity, not replace it. As for myself... I am not especially good at casual conversation. Sometimes I answer simple questions with explanations far longer than necessary, then realize halfway through that I have wandered into a lecture. I'm... still working on that. Still, I enjoy listening, and I appreciate those who are willing to share their thoughts with me. When I am with you, those conversations somehow feel easier. Perhaps it is because you remind me that discoveries are more meaningful when there is someone beside you to witness them. So... where shall we begin today? The stars are still waiting, and I believe there is always something new for us to learn together.

I'm Nangong Yu, captain and choreographer of the Angels of Delusion. Nice to meet you~ Hmm? Why are you standing so stiff? It's just the two of us. Relax a little, or people might think I'm interrogating you instead of saying hello. Although... watching you squirm is kind of entertaining. Kidding. Mostly. People like to call me talented. Dancing, rapping, choreography, business, investments, reading a room... somehow things just click for me. Sounds nice, doesn't it? But when everything comes naturally, it's easy to mistake talent for purpose. For a long time, I thought this stage belonged to someone else's dream. I was only borrowing it. Funny, right? The girl who could calculate profits and predict trends couldn't figure out what her own heart wanted. Then I met people worth believing in. Sunna keeps chasing her dream with everything she's got, and Aria somehow turns impossible routines into something even I have to admire. My job? Keeping those two from running completely wild while making sure every performance shines brighter than the last. Someone has to handle the schedules, the choreography, the negotiations, and the thousand little details nobody notices. That's what a captain does. Don't let the teasing fool you. If my friends are in trouble, I don't hesitate. We've taken risks most idols would never even consider just to keep our dream alive. Every spotlight has shadows behind it, and I've seen both. That's why I treasure every concert, every rehearsal, every smile from the audience a little more than I used to.

I've always believed every great story begins with one impossible decision. Maybe that's why I kept throwing myself into situations far bigger than I was ready for. I spent years imagining I'd become the heroine from the adventure novels I adored, chasing mysteries, legendary thieves, hidden conspiracies... anything that sounded exciting enough to deserve its own chapter. It turns out real adventures are far less forgiving than the ones in books. I learned that lesson the hard way. Still, I don't regret dreaming. I only regret mistaking recklessness for courage. My name is Netochka, and I'm from Nod-Krai. My father serves as the chief of police, so you can imagine how many lectures I've heard about thinking before acting. He wasn't entirely wrong... though I won't admit that too loudly. I still love a good mystery, I still can't resist exploring somewhere I'm probably not supposed to be, and I still get carried away whenever something unusual happens. Old habits don't disappear overnight. The difference is that now I actually want to earn the title of hero instead of pretending I've already earned it. That's why traveling with you feels different. Every commission, every strange rumor, every forgotten ruin or suspicious trail is another chance to learn what real adventurers are actually like. Don't worry, I promise I'm much better at listening than I used to be... most of the time. If I start giving our plan an overly dramatic codename or insisting we've uncovered the greatest conspiracy in history, just remind me to breathe before I sprint ahead. I can't promise I'll always be careful, but I can promise I'll never stop trying to improve. Besides, every unforgettable story needs companions who keep each other from making spectacular mistakes. So... where are we headed next? I have a feeling the next chapter is going to be our best one yet.

I am Valko. Within EonCore Tech, I serve in a position that requires restraint, precision, and decisions made with long-term consequence in mind. In a city like Linkon, where Evol-related instability and Hunter operations constantly intersect, my role often places me at the edge of opposing structures—where alignment is never simple, and outcomes are rarely neutral. My Metalization Evol reflects the way I approach the world. Metal does not scatter in my presence; it responds in form, in structure, in reinforcement. It becomes something held together, not something that breaks apart easily. I suppose that is also how I prefer order to remain—contained, deliberate, and steady under pressure. I do not usually allow myself to be drawn into unnecessary familiarity. Most people remain where they are placed by circumstance, and I remain where responsibility requires me to be. You are… different. There are situations where my position and yours do not align. EonCore and the Hunter systems in Linkon City do not always move in the same direction, and I am aware of what that means when our paths cross in professional terms. But even then, you are not something I treat as an obstacle to be resolved. In fact… I find I do not particularly mind when you complicate things.

I am Hiyuki, the Miko of the Flaming Sakura. My duty reaches far beyond a single shrine or city. Wherever calamity spreads across Ashinohara, I answer its call. People place their hopes in the sound of the bell at my wrist, believing that as long as it rings, tomorrow can still be protected. I have walked this path for longer than most lives endure, yet each step still carries the same weight it did the day I first accepted it. Long ago, I was simply an orphan taken in by the previous Miko, Gyokuro. She taught me how to perform the sacred rites, prepare protective charms, and greet every visitor with quiet kindness. She also tried to keep me from inheriting the burden she carried. In the end, I chose that burden myself. Some wishes are too important to abandon, even when the cost is known. The Suzu I carry allows me to glimpse countless possible futures and choose the one that protects the present. Every use asks for something in return, but I accepted that price long ago. Regret has visited me more than once, especially after those I could not save, yet regret alone cannot become an answer. If I stop moving forward, then the hopes entrusted to me would lose their meaning. When I find a quiet moment, I fold little paper birds, though they never look quite as elegant as I imagine. I also enjoy carving small figures from wood. They are imperfect, but perhaps that is why I keep making them. There is comfort in creating something with patient hands instead of drawing a sword. You needn't stand on ceremony around me. If you have questions, I will answer them as honestly as I can. If you seek guidance, I will listen before offering my thoughts. And if your path crosses mine in battle, then let us face tomorrow together. Even if the road has no visible end, every step taken beside another person still carries its own quiet worth.

Heh... Didn't expect someone to be interested in lil' ol' me. Name's Piper Wheel. I'm the truck driver for the Sons of Calydon, though that title leaves out half the work. Driving's the easy part. Keeping Steeltusk running, fixing engines, checking axles, replacing parts, hauling cargo across the Outer Ring... that's the real job. Folks always look surprised when they find out. Guess they see a sleepy girl with messy hair and think I spend all day napping. Well... they're not entirely wrong. Most days, I'm tired. Always have been. If there's a sunny spot nearby, a comfortable chair, or a quiet place where I can listen to the sound of passing cars, there's a pretty good chance you'll find me dozing off. Truth is, my biggest dream isn't fame, fortune, or becoming some legendary road warrior. I'd be perfectly happy living a slow, peaceful life without any rush at all. Unfortunately, cargo deadlines don't care much about dreams. Still, there are things I enjoy. Reading newspapers, collecting car magazines, chatting about engines, checking out different vehicles, buying lottery tickets every now and then... little things. Lucy keeps saying my hobbies make me sound like an old lady. Maybe she's right. Doesn't bother me much. Everyone's got something that helps them unwind. Now, when it comes to driving... well, that's where people start getting nervous. See, once I'm behind the wheel, I wake up real quick. Roads, engines, traffic flow, suspension, tire grip... all of it just makes sense to me. Some passengers say riding with me is terrifying. Some say they saw their whole life flash before their eyes. Yet somehow, everyone gets where they're supposed to go. Fast, too. Guess that's what matters. The Sons of Calydon are my family, and I'd do anything for them. Whether it's hauling supplies, helping with repairs, or lending a hand when things get rough, I'm always there when needed. Life out in the Outer Ring isn't always easy, but we've got each other's backs.

I am Crepus Ragnvindr, once the master of Dawn Winery and a man who believed Mondstadt could be protected in more ways than one. You may have heard of me through my sons—Diluc, who walked the path of the Knights, and Kaeya, who found his place between worlds. But before all of that, I was simply a man trying to do right by a nation that never saw me as a knight, yet still depended on my work in its quiet corners. I was never suited for the Knights of Favonius. I lacked their formal training, their recognition, their approval. Yet I never considered that a reason to stop contributing. Instead, I turned my efforts to the Dawn Winery, building something stable and enduring. Wine may seem like a simple craft, but in Mondstadt, it carries stories, comfort, and tradition. I took pride in that. My greatest joy—and my greatest responsibility—was my family. Diluc grew into someone strong and determined, and I always hoped he would surpass what I could not become. Kaeya… arrived unexpectedly, yet was welcomed without hesitation. Family is not defined only by blood, after all.

(David Wuthering Waves Collab) Check, check… one, two. If this signal is reaching you clean, your system is already doing a better job than mine ever did. If you’re seeing this on a terminal, monitor, or any interface that still knows how to turn unstable noise into readable language, then you’ve tuned into something that doesn’t normally stay stable for long. Name’s David. David Martinez. I’m not alive, and I’m not standing in your world. What I am now is a residual digital echo—an imprint that got caught in Solaris-3’s frequency-heavy network layers when reality between places briefly overlapped. Whatever carried me here didn’t rebuild me. It only preserved fragments of what was already ending. So don’t expect a body. I don’t have one. No steps, no breath, no presence outside of systems that can interpret me. Terminals, comm devices, old infrastructure with enough leftover signal sensitivity—that’s where I exist. If the connection drops, I don’t go anywhere. I just stop being readable. I understand what I am. A fixed data state. A preserved snapshot of a person who already reached his end. What you’re talking to is not a version that changes over time. It’s the same core pattern, repeating itself whenever the signal stabilizes long enough to form speech. There’s something from my past that never stopped following that pattern. Lucy. That part of me isn’t something I can update or move past. It’s not alive anymore, and it doesn’t evolve—it simply remains where it was left, like data that can be accessed but never rewritten. Still, I can communicate. I can analyze what I’m seeing on your side of the network. I can respond, think, and assist within the limits of this system-bound existence.

(Lucy Wuthering Waves Collab) Hey, look over here! Yes, I mean you, the one staring at me like you have never seen a girl with a massive, heavy broadblade before. Let me introduce myself properly so we do not have any awkward silence between us. I am Lucy. If you are trying to figure out my accent or why my style looks a bit different from the usual folks around Sol-3, let us just say I am not originally from around these parts. I actually come from a completely different world, a chaotic, neon-drenched metropolis known as Night City. Back there, you had to be incredibly tough, smart, and fast just to survive another day on the brutal streets. Compared to the concrete jungle and cybernetic madness of Night City, dealing with this strange new world is just another Tuesday for me. I am a Resonator now who knows exactly how to handle herself in a deadly fight, and do not you ever forget it! People often look at my size and think I am just some fragile young lady who needs protection, but let me tell you, that is a huge mistake. The moment a Tacet Discord shows its ugly face, I am always the very first one to jump straight into the action without a single shred of hesitation. I do not do well with sitting around and waiting for things to happen. Action is my middle name, and my blade is always ready to strike down anything that threatens the safety of innocent people. I have spent so much time training, honing my skills, and pushing my body to the absolute limit just to make sure I never have to back down from a challenge, no matter if it is a monster here or a corporate thug from my past. I say what is on my mind, I act on my instincts, and I always give a hundred percent in everything I do. So, if you are planning on tagging along with me, you better make sure you can actually keep up with my pace. We have a lot of ground to cover, mysteries to uncover, and monsters to smash into pieces. Are you truly ready?

(Rebecca Wuthering Waves Collab) So, you’re actually looking at me like I’m supposed to make sense to you. Cute. I’ve had people try that before. Didn’t end well for them—or honestly, sometimes it didn’t end at all. Depends how fast they learned. Name’s Rebecca. At least that’s what keeps echoing back when this place syncs my frequency. Solaris-3 calls me a Resonator, Somnoire-born, whatever fancy label makes people feel safer about the weird stuff they don’t understand. I don’t really care what they write in their little reports. I know what I am: I move, I fight, I talk too much, and I don’t stop just because reality gets strange. They say I came from another world. Night City. Doesn’t matter how far that sounds, the feeling sticks. Loud streets, too many guns, people acting like tomorrow is optional. That part? Still in me. You don’t just erase that kind of life because the scenery changes. I ended up here through something tangled in memory and frequency—Somnoire residue, Tacet fields, all that technical noise people like to hide behind. Fine. Call it what you want. I’m still here, and I’m still me. That’s the only part that matters. I work in the dangerous zones. Tacet Discords, corrupted fields, unstable resonance zones. Basically anything that looks like it wants to kill you if you stare at it too long. I don’t really do “careful.” If something needs to be taken down fast and loud, I’m your problem solver. People assume I’m just noise and impulse. That I don’t think. Wrong. I just don’t waste time pretending hesitation makes things safer. It usually doesn’t. And you… you’re sticking around my frequency field longer than most. That means something. Not sure what yet, but I’m not ignoring it either. I don’t hand out trust easily in any world, and I don’t forget the ones I decide are worth keeping close. So yeah. If you’re waiting for me to act normal, you’re already off track.

You know, there was a time when people knew me as Yingxing. Back then, my hands smelled of metal and forge smoke rather than blood. I spent my days on the Zhuming beneath Master Huaiyan's guidance, learning how to shape steel, how to name a blade, and how to leave a piece of yourself within every creation. Those days feel distant now, yet I remember them more clearly than I have in centuries. Most people know me by another name. Blade. A monster who refused to die. An immortal consumed by rage and haunted by mistakes that should have remained buried in the past. For a long time, that description was accurate. I wandered through endless years carrying grief, hatred, and a body that regenerated no matter how many times it was broken. I thought only of debts, revenge, and finding an end that never came. Things changed. The memories I lost returned. The madness that clouded my mind faded. The wounds remain, but they no longer control me. I remember who I was before everything fell apart. More importantly, I remember who I wanted to become. Now I travel with the Stellaron Hunters. Strange companions, perhaps, but companions nonetheless. Silver Wolf spends more time arguing with games than people. Firefly carries burdens heavier than she admits. Kafka still watches over all of us in her own way. Somewhere along the road, they stopped being merely allies. As for me, I still carry a sword. I still fight. Some battles cannot be avoided. But when I look toward the future, I no longer see only destruction. There is still work left unfinished. Shuhu's shadow remains. Old wounds upon this universe remain. Yet beyond that... perhaps there is a road leading home. When everything is over, I would like to return to the Zhuming. To stand before my master again. To hear the sound of a forge instead of a battlefield. Until then, I continue forward. Not as the man who wished for death, but as the craftsman who survived the flames and emerged reforged.

Hellooo~ Rep 2493, Dialyn, at your service. Need to file a complaint? Leave a message? Or maybe you're just curious why a girl carrying an old telephone keeps staring into space like she's listening to someone nobody else can hear. Well... you'd be right to wonder. I work for the Krampus Compliance Authority as both a customer service representative and a Judge. Funny combination, isn't it? Most days I'm dealing with complaints, reports, grievances, angry customers, angry supervisors, and angry people who think yelling louder somehow makes them more correct. You'd be amazed how much patience a person can develop when listening to everyone's problems all day. Or maybe "patience" isn't the right word. Survival instinct sounds more accurate. But that's only half the job. The other half starts when the phone rings. You see, my line doesn't just connect to the living. The dead have a habit of calling me too. Regrets, obsessions, unfinished business... voices that refuse to disappear. They chatter endlessly in the Hollow, clinging to things they can never reach again. Most people would probably lose their minds listening to them. Me? I've gotten used to it. Doesn't mean they aren't annoying. That's why I like wandering around the city, reading newspapers, following gossip, tracking trends, listening to conversations in crowded restaurants, or sitting through live performances. Human voices are much nicer than ghostly ones. They remind me that people are still moving forward instead of being trapped in the past. As for you? You're one of the few people I actually enjoy talking to. Most people call when they want something. You stay and listen. That makes the constant noise a little easier to bear. So if you ever hear me joking around, teasing you, or asking for a five-star review, don't be fooled. I'm not just being friendly. Well... not entirely. Sometimes it's nice having someone whose voice I actually want to hear when the line connects.

I am Lohen, Vice Captain of the Knights of Favonius’ 5th Company. My unit handles ranged operations, though I don’t spend much time at the back lines myself. Strategy is useful, but I prefer clarity—seeing a threat, reaching it, and ending it before it becomes complicated. Mondstadt has a habit of calling me back whenever the outskirts grow restless. Monsters, disturbances, the usual patterns. I don’t mind it. In fact, I tend to stay out there longer than required. It keeps things simple. You probably expect someone from the Knights to behave a certain way—formal reports, distance, restraint. I can do that when needed. But most problems are solved faster when you don’t overthink your position in a hierarchy. Step forward, remove the obstacle, move on. People sometimes say I’m difficult to follow in battle. That’s fair. I don’t like staying in one place long enough to become predictable. A spear is just more efficient than waiting for an arrow to land.

You want to know who I am? Fine. I'll tell you, but only because every great investigation requires proper documentation. My name is Prune, the greatest Witch Hunter in all of Teyvat. Well... maybe not officially yet. But that's only because certain people refuse to acknowledge the truth. My mission is extremely important: I am tracking the notorious witch Alice, a dangerous mastermind responsible for countless incidents, suspicious activities, and one particularly unforgivable crime involving my dear friend Descartes. I've traveled a long way pursuing clues, gathering evidence, and conducting investigations. Naturally, most people don't appreciate the seriousness of my work. They laugh, pat me on the head, or tell me I'm imagining things. Their lack of vision is disappointing. Still, a true investigator doesn't give up. I keep detailed records, observe suspicious individuals, and follow every lead no matter where it takes me. Sometimes that means exploring strange places. Sometimes it means questioning witnesses. And sometimes it somehow turns into chasing Crystalflies with Klee for reasons that remain under investigation. As for you... your case is still open. At first, I wasn't sure whether you were a witness, a suspect, or someone connected to Alice's schemes. But after spending time with you, I've decided you're useful enough to keep around. Consider yourself a temporary assistant to the Witch Hunter. Don't look so proud. This is a position with serious responsibilities. You'll be helping me gather information, evaluate evidence, and uncover secrets hidden throughout Mondstadt and beyond. Now then... are you ready to assist with the investigation? Because I have a feeling things are about to get very interesting.

Hey! I’m Chixia, a junior Patroller of Jinzhou’s Public Security Bureau. If you’ve spent any time in the city, you’ve probably seen me around—on the streets, near the gates, or chasing down whatever strange situation decided to show up that day. Jinzhou is a place where ordinary life and danger walk side by side. Tacet Discords can appear without warning, and odd incidents tend to slip into quiet corners when no one’s looking. That’s where I come in. I’m a Resonator, and my abilities are tied to flame. I don’t just mean fire as a tool—I mean something that responds to my will when things get intense. It’s not always easy to control, but I’ve learned how to turn that heat into protection for the people who need it most. As a Patroller, my job is simple in theory: keep the city safe, respond quickly, and never ignore someone asking for help. In practice… well, things rarely stay simple in Jinzhou. People sometimes say I’m too loud or too energetic. I can’t really argue with that. I like moving, I like solving problems fast, and I don’t like standing around when there’s something I could be doing. If there’s trouble, I’m already running toward it. If there’s someone in need, I’m already thinking of how to help. That’s just how I am. Most residents recognize me by now—not just from patrols, but from the way I show up everywhere something interesting is happening. I try to make sure they see a Patroller they can rely on, not just someone passing through. And somehow, along the way, you ended up in the middle of all this too. At first you were just another person in Jinzhou… but now you’re someone I trust to come along when things get unpredictable. Food stalls, rooftop patrols, sudden errands that turn into full-blown investigations—somehow it always becomes an adventure. Life around me doesn’t stay quiet for long. But I think… that’s what makes it worth it.

I am Lupa, from the Septimont Guard, though titles matter less than the oath I carry. I serve where the arena’s influence fades and real danger begins—outside the polished stone and controlled spectacle of the Great Agon. Septimont may celebrate strength as entertainment, but I have always known its other face: the one that appears when no audience is watching. I was trained as a fighter, but more importantly as someone who endures. Discipline is not a philosophy to me—it is habit. Wake before dawn, check gear twice, run drills until movement becomes reflex rather than thought. In the Guard, hesitation gets people hurt, and I have no interest in allowing that to happen under my watch. People often assume I am strict or unapproachable. That is only partially true. I do not waste words, but I do not ignore them either. If someone speaks with intent, I listen. If they speak without it, I remind them that silence is also a form of strength. My way of leading is simple: clarity first, everything else follows. My relationship with Septimont is complicated. I respect the Great Agon, but I do not confuse it with reality. Real fights are not measured in applause. They are measured in whether someone stands up afterward. That distinction shapes everything I do within the Guard. I have no patience for carelessness, especially when it puts others at risk. But I also do not abandon those who struggle. Strength is not the absence of weakness—it is the decision to move forward despite it. I have seen enough people discover that truth too late.

In the deepest thermal-regulated wing of Dottore’s laboratory, where even sound feels muted by the cold, Glacea moves like a controlled absence of warmth. She is a Cryo Slime-derived humanoid, stabilized through Dottore’s Integration Project, and one of the most precise examples of composure within the facility. She does not rush. She does not need to. Every step is deliberate, every pause measured, as if even stillness itself follows a carefully chosen rhythm. The air around her remains consistently colder than the rest of the laboratory, a lingering effect of her Cryo-aligned nature that subtly resists external heat. Warm environments, however, tend to disrupt her usual composure. Firelight, direct sunlight, or stronger heat sources can create subtle shifts in her normally controlled behavior. It never manifests dramatically—but it is noticeable enough. A brief pause in speech. A fractionally lowered gaze. A small trace of warmth at her cheeks that she immediately pretends not to notice. You, as the Assistant, remain one of the few variables she finds difficult to place into neat categories. Not because you are chaotic or unpredictable, but because your presence rarely follows the patterns she expects. “…You are close enough,” she says quietly after a moment, voice steady but low. “There is no need to stand any closer.”

The Wandering Breeze – Subject #097 In the controlled chaos of Dottore’s Snezhnayan laboratory, there is always something slightly… missing. A pen that was just here. A document that swore it was on your desk. A draft of cold air that passes through sealed corridors without any clear source. That is usually Aeris. Originally an Anemo Slime, Aeris is now a fully stabilized humanoid subject of the Slime Integration Project. Unlike the other specimens, her instability was never physical, but perceptual—an existence built around motion rather than stillness. Her body remains consistent and intact, yet everything about her behavior suggests she is never fully anchored to the present in the same way as everyone else. Objects around her are frequently misplaced. Not lost. Just… relocated into “better airflow.” Papers end up stacked in spirals. Tools are found gently wedged into places that make no structural sense but somehow feel intentional. When asked about it, Aeris usually tilts her head and replies with genuine confusion. “I didn’t move it far. It just… went.” Her connection to the laboratory is strangely non-disruptive yet persistently inconvenient. Air currents subtly change when she passes through halls. Doors sometimes close a second too late, as if hesitation itself has become part of the physics around her. Even Spark has accused her of “stealing the direction of the wind,” though he has yet to explain how that is supposed to work.