What he saw in his dream was a phantom dancing to the music under the moonlight,
Just like the young man in the distant past, who was akin to a blank sheet of paper,
And like a pure yet fragile persona,
Emerging once the resentment and suffering had dissipated.
The wanderer did not know that he had any faculties for dreaming,
Thinking that this must have been the researchers' little trick,
Or perhaps it was the infinitesimal resistance of that bygone heart.
"You once acquired the 'heart' that you always dreamed of,"
"But it was but a mere prop for lies and deception."
"Now, you will finally obtain what belongs to you,"
"And this false construct of a body can at last aspire to power over this world."
"Yet, this is all but a fleeting dream of glory."
"And it will all one day drift away amidst the sighs of a suffering earth..."
Was it a "him" from the past who said this? Or "him" from the future?
The vagrant cared not, for when he awakened,
It was not he, but that ethereal future that dissipated.

"Where are you going, wanderer?"
The roving youth was stopped by a child's shout.
That was a child of a Tatarasuna crafts-person, and while he was ill, his eyes were still clear.
The youth told the child that he was bound for Inazuma City.
"But it's raining really hard right now. They say that the people who left haven't returned!"
The youth opened and closed his mouth a few times... But at last could only give the child a small smile.
The next time he set foot upon that island, that child was nowhere to be found.
"Where are you going, Inazuman? This boat is not for you!"
The wandering young man was halted at the harbor by a boatman.
But before the youth could draw his blade, a man in his company stopped him.
The man told the mariner that the outlander youth was with him.
"Ah, so he's your guest, sir? My apologies for my presumption."
The man gave the youth a coat to keep the cold out, but the youth shook his head.
He had no need of such things — he only wished to know what interesting things he might find on this long journey.
"Lord Harbinger. Where are you headed?"
The youth, hating chatty humans the most, gave his subordinate a backhand slap.
But he also loved watching expressions of terror and helplessness play across human faces,
And it was perhaps precisely because of this imbecilic underling's expressiveness that he had kept them around.
He told the groveling, quailing figure that they were headed east, for Mondstadt.
"I understand! I'll get your bodyguards ready right now!"
He had no need of guards, of course, but he was lazier still to barter words with cretins.
Donning his wanderer's hat, he headed eastward alone.
"Child, where are you going?"
Returning home, the youth was stopped at the roadside by an old woman.
He told her that he was going west.
"To Yashiori Island, then? What business are you on?"
She had said this thoughtlessly, knowing only that things had not been peaceful of late.
The youth thanked her for her concern with earnest smile and told her that he was bound for an appointed meeting.
As the boat gradually approached the shore, a lady in foreign garb could be seen standing by the shoreline,
And she threw a small crystal sphere at the youth from afar.
Catching it with ease, he lifted it up to the dying, bloodied sun.

Amenoma, Futsu, Isshin, Hyakume, Senju.
These were, once upon a time, the five branches of the Raiden Gokaden,
But today, only Amenoma still maintains its line of succession.
While the Isshin line can just barely be said to have extant descendants.
In the eyes of the people, this is just the natural result of the ravages of time.
They never once suspected that such sudden falls from grace might have some hidden mystery behind them.
The wanderer would never admit to this.
He would never admit that he had done this as an act of revenge against the bladesmith.
Nor would he ever mention the truth,
That he had abandoned his schemes halfway because they had suddenly become dull.
He would only say, in that tone of voice he had learned from a certain researcher:
"It was all just a little experiment into human nature."
In Inazuma's traditional theater, there is a certain character known as "Kunikuzushi."
Such characters are often schemers and usurpers of nations.
At the end of his wanderings, he chose this name as an act of his own will.
And as for the name he had once used, even he no longer remembered it.
It is a norm in Inazuma's traditional theater to join the names of a play's three acts together to form the play's name.
For example, "Sumirezome," "Sangetsu," and "Kogetsukan" come together,
Thus forming the play "Sumirezome Sangetsu Kogetsukan."
Perhaps a day will come when this body's adventures, its experiences,
Will become tales to be passed along by mortals, distant memories that flow through the ley lines.
But for now, his three acts are still ongoing.

The long-wandering eccentric no longer thinks about this,
But when he closes his eyes, he can still see the moonlit nights over Tatarasuna and the burning furnace flames.
The kind young deputy said:
"This gold ornament is a proof of identity granted by the Almighty Shogun,"
"But as you travel the world, please bear this in mind,"
"Never to reveal your identity to others."
The upright Inspector said:
"This gold ornament may be a proof of identity granted by the Almighty Shogun,"
"But you are neither man nor mechanism,"
"And so I can only deal with you in this fashion. Do not hold this against me!"
The wanderer who has left yesterday in the dust no longer thinks about it,
But when he covers his ears, he can still hear the wild winds that roared that year.
A pair of expectant eyes said:
"This gold ornament is a proof of identity granted by the Almighty Shogun,"
"It must surely be able to save the people."
The intelligent, lovely shrine maiden said:
"This gold ornament is a proof of identity granted by the Almighty Shogun,"
"And she will not abandon you."
"As for me, I shall do my best to send for help immediately..."
...But in the end, the golden arrow-feather were covered in dust,
And all tales were incinerated in karmic flames till nothing remained.

He was originally born to be a vessel for a "heart."
But he shed tears in his dreams.
His creator observed thus:
He was too fragile, whether it be as a human or as a tool.
Yet his creator would not destroy him, and so allowed him to continue slumbering.
In her latter works, she would also consign designs that might store such a heart to obsolescence.
Not long after, that noblest and most prestigious "proof" in the world would come to have no home,
And thus was sent to the great shrine at Mt. Yougou.
Later, the beautiful puppet awoke and began his wanderings.
He observed many a heart,
Good ones, upright ones, strong ones, gentle ones...
The puppet, too, desired a heart.
Later, the lovely puppet would finally obtain that "heart."
It was, after all, his purpose for being, the very reason he existed.
Yet, it was not what the puppet truly desired,
For it did not contain any blessings,
But was instead a sacrifice brimming with selfishness, hypocrisy, cunning and curses,
All wrapped in an amiable husk.
Good and evil were the song of sentient life, useless and cacophonous.
But if he were to wrench this "heart" out,
He would no longer be able to feel anything at all...