Teyvat's dawn broke over Shimen's rugged border—Liam trekked from Liyue Port, "Four days—close now," his Sharingan a flicker in the morning haze, "Hilichurls—pesky,"—and the road stretched, "Abyss Order—stirs," his steps a rhythm, Mondstadt's chaos a beacon pulling him through the wilds' sprawl.
Hilichurls swarmed—"Roadblock—again!" their barricades a snarl, "Bold—Stormterror's fault,"—and Liam grinned, "Amaterasu!" black flames erupted, "Burn—clear!" six crisping, "Sword—go!" his Rebellion blade slashing, "Three—down!" his Sharingan tracing, the wilds a canvas of ash and grit under his stride.
He mused—"No gods—no order," his words to Keqing a echo, "Liyue—Morax reigns; Mond—empty,"—and the Abyss Order loomed, "Stormterror—pawn," his theory a thread, "Fatui—vultures," Raiden Shogun's iron grip a foil, "Mond—soft target," his trek a forge in Teyvat's shifting dawn.
Action flared—a thug lunged, "Raaagh—club!" its swing a thunder—and Liam leapt, "Double Jump!" a magic pedal flaring, "Up—slash!" his sword cleaving, "Head—off!" the thug tumbling, "Fireball Jutsu!" a blast torching four, "Last—die!" his Sharingan a flame, the road a battlefield of his relentless pace.
He soared—"Pedals—fly!" his trickster speed a blur, "Dawn Winery—there,"—and the vineyard gleamed, "Straight—faster!" his leaps a dance, "Prototype—vibes," his nostalgia a ember, "Classic—add it," the second game's flop a shadow, Teyvat's terrain a playground bending to his will.
Springvale flickered—"Half day—done," his boots hit soil, "Mondstadt—close,"—and the town hushed, "Stormterror—drains it," its streets a whisper, "Merchants—scarce," his Sharingan tracing, "No stop—on," the bridge to Mondstadt's gate a ribbon under the midday sun's glare.
Mondstadt loomed—Fruit Wine Lake shimmered, "Island—fortress," its walls towered, "Twenty meters—grand,"—and Liam crossed, "Bridge—lone path," Timmy's pigeons gone, "Chaos—scares 'em," four Knights of Favonius stood, "Flyer—me," their nods a pass, his arrival a spark in the city's tense hush.
The gate yawned—"Not game's duo—four," their armor gleamed, "Stormterror—tightens 'em,"—and Liam entered, "Bigger—real," the city sprawled, "Familiar—yet new," his kindness a tide, "Liyue—home; Mond—first," the streets a canvas, Stormterror's shadow a pall over its wind-worn charm.
Fatui prowled—"Knights—useless!" their whispers a venom, "Varka's gone—weak!"—and Mond's folk bristled, "Giant babies—loyal still," Liam mused, "Faith—holds," the economy slumped, "Shops—quiet," his steps a thread, the Deer Hunter's aroma a lure in the city's heart.
A shop beckoned—"Sublet—perfect," its sign a plea, "Cafe—here,"—and Liam chose, "Central—prime," his vision a ember, "Knights—next," his stride firm, the headquarters towered, "Jean—meet her," his fanboy heart a spark, Mondstadt's pulse a rhythm in his eager climb.
Knights saluted—"Purpose—state," their voices crisp, "Branch—business,"—and Liam passed, "Office—up," the halls echoed, "Varka's void—felt," portraits of past Grand Masters glared, "Jean—burdened," his knock a ripple, the door creaking, "Long hips—finally," his grin a secret in the quiet gloom.
Jean slumped—"Dark circles—worn," her desk a mess, "Mr. Liam—sorry,"—and her voice rasped, "Stormterror—Abyss—Fatui," her shoulders sagged, "Days—no sleep," Liam's pity a tide, "Nineteen—too young," her knightly grace a rock buckling under Mondstadt's weight.
He urged—"Rest—Jean," his tone a balm, "Overwork—kills,"—and she sighed, "Duty—endless," her blue eyes dim, "Knights—stretched," Liam nodding, "Mond—leans on you," his respect a ember, "Game—fainted; real—worse," her struggle a thread, the office a shrine to her relentless fight.
Dialogue flared—"Branch—here," Liam pitched, "Cafe—boost 'em,"—and Jean blinked, "Economy—needs it," her hope a spark, "Fatui—counter," he grinned, "Games—unite," her nod a tide, "Approve—please," her pen a vow, "Mond—rises," their pact a blaze in the office's stale air.
A subplot twisted—Fatui schemed, "Knights—down," their whispers a web, "Abyss—next?"—and Liam mused, "Cafe—foil 'em," his Sharingan a shield, "Jean—hold on," her resolve a rock, "Stormterror—key," their alliance a thread, Mondstadt's wilds a stage for his brewing plan.
Action loomed—Hilichurls roared, "Gate—breach!" their clubs a thunder beyond the walls—and Liam spun, "Jean—stay!" his sword drawn, "Amaterasu!" black flames flared, "Burn—back!" ten crisping, "Susanoo!" ribs blocking, "Safe—go!" his Sharingan a flame, the bridge a battlefield of his swift stand.
Knights charged—"Support—here!" their swords gleamed, "Hold—line!"—and Liam struck, "Kamui!" a thug warped, "Gone—next!" his blade slashing, "Five—down!" flames raining, "Clear—done," Jean watching, "Strong—savior," her awe a tide, Mondstadt's gate a forge under his might.
Emotion surged—Jean's duty clashed with wear, "Mond—mine," her knightly soul a rock; Liam's thrill burned, "Cafe—rises," his Sharingan a blaze; Fatui's scorn loomed, "Weak—exploit,"—and Teyvat trembled, their saga a blaze in Mondstadt's wind-swept sprawl.
Jean smiled—"Approved—Liam," her pen a seal, "Rest—later,"—and he grinned, "Shop—mine," his trek a triumph, "Mond—home," the Knights' hall a balm, Hilichurls' ash a thread, Liyue's glow a memory, Teyvat's wilds and LAN a dual dawn breaking over his bold claim.
***
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