I awaken to a world that feels both achingly familiar and disconcertingly alien. The gentle rustling of the leaves and the soft whisper of the wind are my first sensations, but there's an underlying dissonance that unsettles me. The warmth of the sun filters through the trees, casting a golden glow over Windrise, my eternal resting place. Yet, instead of the comfort I once found here, there's a profound emptiness that envelopes me.

The sight of the crippling, broken and overgrown statue of Barbatos, my own likeness carved in stone, should bring me solace, but instead, it feels like a bitter reminder of everything I've lost. The statue stands as a sentinel of a time that has passed, and as I reach out to touch it, the cold stone feels like a reflection of my own heart—cold and distant.

I try to piece together the fragments of my memories. I remember the era of grandeur, the times when the people sang praises to the wind and I walked among them as their guardian. Those memories are vivid but tinged with an almost unbearable sadness. The faces of those I loved and cherished—the ones who were my family—seem to fade into obscurity, replaced by a reality that no longer includes me.

The realization that the world has moved on without me strikes like a physical blow. My era has passed, and the modern age has risen in my absence. The landscape has changed, the architecture is unfamiliar, and the rhythm of life feels alien. I'm a relic of a bygone age, and the weight of that realization is a heavy burden I can barely bear.

Desperation drives me to leave my sanctuary, to walk through Mondstadt and see what has become of the land I once cherished. The city bustles with activity, but the people move past me as though I am invisible. Their lives continue with a seamless ease, and I am an outsider in a world that no longer recognizes me. The streets are filled with echoes of a time gone by, and each step I take feels like an intrusion into a reality that no longer includes me.

The most excruciating blow comes when I see Zhongli. His presence is a painful reminder of what I've lost. He moves with the same grace and strength that I remember, but there's no spark of recognition in his eyes. He is surrounded by people who do not know him as I once did, and the sight of him living a life without me feels like a cruel mockery. My heart aches with the realization that he has built a new existence, one that does not include the love we once shared.

I wander through the city, my heart breaking with each familiar landmark that now feels like a ghost of the past. I see remnants of my era—a monument here, a melody there—but they only serve to deepen my sorrow. The city that once thrived under my protection now feels like a place where my presence is nothing more than a forgotten memory.

The most gut-wrenching discovery is the realization that my children, too, have no memory of me. They carry themselves with a dignity that reminds me of our past, but they are strangers to me. The thought that my own flesh and blood do not remember me, that they have grown up without the guidance and love I once gave them, is a pain that feels almost unbearable.

I return to Windrise, seeking refuge in the solitude of my sanctuary. The sacred place that was once a source of peace now feels like a prison. I sit beneath the statue of Barbatos, the weight of my sorrow pressing heavily on my chest. The wind, which once carried whispers of comfort and familiarity, now seems to taunt me with its silence. The memories of a time when I was cherished and celebrated are now just echoes, haunting me with their beauty and their loss.

The sun begins to set, painting the sky with hues of pink and gold. I watch the colors shift, a reminder of the passage of time that has left me behind. The serenity of the evening contrasts sharply with the turmoil within me. The world has moved on, and I am left with the fragments of a life that no longer exists.

I am consumed by the weight of my loneliness. The realization that I am no longer a part of the lives of those I once held dear is almost too much to bear. I long to reach out, to reconnect with Morax and my children, but the fear of rejection and the pain of being forgotten hold me back. The chasm between my past and the present feels insurmountable, and I am left grappling with a deep sense of abandonment.

As night falls, I find myself lost in the vastness of the universe, seeking solace in the stars that fill the sky. They are distant and indifferent, much like the world I now find myself in. The echoes of my past life are a constant presence, shaping my thoughts and emotions. I am left to confront the painful truth that my existence has become a series of echoes, fading with each passing moment.

The future is uncertain, and I am overwhelmed by the enormity of the challenges ahead. The journey to reclaim my place in this new world feels daunting, and the hope of reconnecting with those I love seems like a distant dream. Yet, amid the despair, I cling to the hope that the past and the present can be reconciled, that the echoes of my existence will not be lost forever.

For now, all I can do is hold on to the memories and the love that once defined my life. The path forward is shrouded in darkness, but I must navigate it with whatever strength I can muster. The echoes of the past are a haunting reminder of what I've lost, but they are also a beacon of hope that guides me through the shadows of my sorrow.