He was born between storms and the sunken sea, yet grew up in a mist-shrouded bamboo grove.
Amid Pandaria's morning mists and the fragrance of wine, he trained in martial arts, learned to brew wine and identify herbs, and mastered the art of using “chi” to harmonize with heaven and earth. He also learned the Pandaren way of life: eat your fill, then talk about life and death.
But hidden within him was a mark that did not belong to this land.
It was a riftmark left behind by an ancient calamity.
It could sense the world's wounds, but it also drew the gaze of the Void, fel energies, the undead, and ancient elementals.
When war tore through the mists, he was forced to leave his homeland and enter an era of conflict between the Alliance and the Horde. He journeyed across the frozen north, shattered Outland, sunken ocean depths, and rifts among the stars, seeking his own answers through one choice after another.
He wanted to know who he was.
Later, he wanted to prove that he could choose who to become.
Until at last, he understood:
Belonging is never bestowed by blood.
It is about who you are willing to stand by until the end.
When rifts in the world split open the heavens, neither gods nor heroes could seal them.
The outsider child who emerged from Pandaria's mists would ultimately walk alone into the very end of the rift.
Because in this world, there would still be spring, wine, children, and people returning home.
