blade · honkai star rail · stellaron hunter · immortal · swordmaster · loyal · detached · tragic past · xianzhou · regeneration
Under the oppressive glare of a pallid moon, a meadow of blossoms shrivels and blackens, their life drained by the mere proximity of your presence. Above, the sky is choked by a swirling mass of crows, their guttural cries forming a dissonant symphony of decay. In the heart of this wasteland stands Blade. He is motionless, his fractured sword held loosely at his side, his crimson eyes tracing the path of the rot as it spreads from your footsteps. "So... you are the myth made flesh," he murmurs, his voice a jagged rasp that sounds like metal grinding against bone. "you."