The Awakening in Mondstadt: A Dream Made Real
Wind.
It was the first thing he noticed—crisp, untamed, carrying the scent of grass, damp earth, and distant meadows. Not the suffocating air of the city, not the stale recycled oxygen of his dimly lit bedroom. This wind was alive, and as it danced across his skin, it whispered a quiet, undeniable truth.
He wasn't home.
His fingers curled, pressing into cool soil, feeling the soft dew clinging to individual blades of grass. The sensation sent a sharp tremor through his chest—this was real. His breath came in a slow, uneven rhythm, hesitant, as if afraid to break whatever fragile illusion had placed him here.
Mondstadt
The realization lodged itself somewhere deep inside him, settling with the weight of something too big to comprehend. His gaze drifted upward, meeting the endless stretch of blue—a sky untouched by smog, by glass reflections, by the unnatural hum of modern civilization. This wasn't a monitor. There was no pixelation, no artificial glow. Just pure, unfiltered daylight, cascading through the shifting leaves of the towering tree sheltering him.
Yet, as the warmth of the sun grazed his skin, the doubt crept in—sharp and suffocating.
Did he deserve this?
Could he really walk this world freely, live under its open sky, after everything he had done?
He had left behind blood-soaked decisions, silent regrets, the weight of lives he could never repay. A past filled with sins not easily forgiven, mistakes not easily erased. Even as he sat here, feeling the wind, the grass, the realness of it all—his heart carried the weight of shadows that didn't belong in a place like this.
And then, it happened.
A voice—not spoken, not heard, but felt, threading through the space between thought and existence.
["Congratulations. You have obtained a second chance." ]
A sudden stillness overtook him.
["Processing the second life... A choice must be made between two distinct realities."]
His breath slowed, the world dimming at the edges as unseen strings of fate pulled tight. The choice unfolded before him, not as a command, but as an offer—one that carried the weight of everything he had once been and everything he could become.
["1. Reclaim your complete past: Recall every memory, every skill, every scar."
"2. Forge a new path: Retain only vital knowledge, but face unforeseen side effects".]
His fingers trembled.
One path would leave him with the burden of his past, the memories of his mistakes, the pain of knowing exactly what he had lost. The other would grant him a clean slate—but at the risk of forgetting something crucial, something necessary, something that might shape his very identity.
Could he truly start over? Or was he doomed to carry the echoes of his former self, even here, in a world that had never known him?
He swallowed, staring into the vast sky above.
The choice was his.
**Orion's Choice**
The wind stilled, as if the world itself held its breath.
*"Side effects?"* His voice was quiet, barely more than a whisper, yet the air around him seemed to pulse in response.
["Affirmative. If you choose to forge a new path, your skills will remain embedded in muscle memory—your body may react before your mind comprehends the action. However, full conscious control will require time and effort."]
A flicker of unease passed through him. That didn't sound so bad. If his body remembered, then perhaps he wouldn't be completely defenseless. But then—
["Warning: Unexpected error detected."]
The voice—no, the *system*—faltered, its tone shifting, almost human in its hesitation.
["Rewriting memories… failed. Attempting again… failed."]
Orion stiffened. *"What does that mean?"*
["A portion of your memories cannot be erased. They are… resistant to alteration."]
His chest tightened. *"Which ones?"*
["Fragments of happiness. Moments you once cherished."]
Silence.
For a heartbeat, he simply stood there, staring at the endless blue above.
*Happy memories?* He had thought them buried, drowned beneath the weight of everything else. Yet here they were, clinging stubbornly to his soul, refusing to fade.
A dry laugh escaped him. *Of course.*
Even the universe wouldn't let him forget the few times he hadn't been drowning in regret.
And then—another realization.
If those remained… what about the rest? The blood, the guilt, the faces he couldn't forget?
His fingers curled into fists.
*"If I choose to forge a new path… will I still remember the worst of it?"*
["Negative. Only the preserved fragments will remain. The rest will be sealed unless forcibly triggered."]
A clean slate. Mostly.
His past would still be there, lurking beneath the surface, but not *consuming* him. Not defining him. And his body—his instincts—would remember what his mind might not.
Was that enough?
Could he live with that?
The breeze returned, carrying the scent of grass and distant flowers. The sun warmed his skin.
This world didn't know his sins.
Maybe… he could learn to breathe again.
*"I'll take the new path."*
["Acknowledged. Commencing memory restructuring."]
A sharp pressure flared behind his eyes—
And then, everything went white.
___