The rumble of the school bus fades into the distance as I trudge away from the museum, each step heavy with the weight of the day's revelations. What was meant to be a routine educational excursion has transformed into a crucible of emotions and fragmented memories. The ancient artifacts on display—especially the weapons from a bygone era—have stirred something deep within me, awakening echoes from a life I barely comprehend.

Back in my room, the space feels oppressive, shrinking under the enormity of my feelings. I collapse onto my bed, utterly spent. The day's experiences have left me reeling. The vividness of the memories that surfaced, though fleeting, leaves me grappling with an overwhelming sense of recognition that is as intense as it is confusing.

I lie there, eyes shut tightly, trying to steady my breathing. The images from the museum replay in my mind like an endless loop, each frame more disturbing than the last. The Primordial Jade Winged-Spear, in particular, stands out—a relic that seemed to act as a key, unlocking a floodgate of long-buried memories. As I contemplate the spear, my breathing quickens, and the flood of memories surges with the force of a breaking dam.

The world around me blurs, and I'm thrust back into the mist-covered landscape of my past life. I am younger, the sensation of my surroundings strikingly vivid. I find myself in a dense, primordial forest, where the scent of ancient earth and magic hangs thick in the air. I am training with my spear, each movement precise and effortless, a reflection of countless hours spent honing my skill. The clarity of the scene is both a comfort and a torment, as it brings back a flood of emotions I can barely control.

A piercing pang of recognition seizes me as I catch sight of a figure standing just beyond the clearing—Kunikuzushi, my cousin, watching with a mixture of pride and sorrow. The scene shifts abruptly, and I'm thrown into the chaos of a battle, my spear clashing against dark forces. My heart races with the rhythm of combat, every swing of my weapon powerful and fluid, yet the faces of my enemies blur into an indistinguishable haze of shadows and anguish.

The intensity of these memories is overwhelming, forcing me to slump forward, gasping for air. I clutch my head, as if trying to physically hold onto the fragments of my past life. My body trembles uncontrollably under the weight of these vivid, relentless images and emotions. The connection to Kunikuzushi, the battles fought side by side, the shared camaraderie with other Yakshas—all of it feels achingly familiar yet distant, like a half-remembered dream slipping through my fingers.

The room spins around me, the boundaries of reality warping as I struggle to grasp the enormity of my revelations. The Primordial Jade Winged-Spear, having been a trigger for these memories, now feels like a living entity within me. I recall training with my cousin, the weight of shared struggles, and the profound camaraderie with my fellow Yakshas. The realization of their loss, the burdens they carried—these thoughts weigh heavily on me, a source of deep sorrow and confusion.

Desperate for respite from the relentless torrent of memories, I find myself driven to take drastic action. The pressure of my emotions reaches a boiling point, and I feel an irresistible urge to act. Without thinking, I race out of my room, the urgency of my emotions propelling me forward. I head back to the museum, the night shrouding my movements in darkness.

I sneak past security, slipping through a partially open window. Inside, the museum's artifacts, now bathed in moonlight, seem to pulse with a haunting familiarity. My eyes are drawn inexorably to the Primordial Jade Winged-Spear. Its presence radiates a magnetic pull, demanding acknowledgment.

With trembling hands, I reach for the spear. As my fingers make contact with the familiar grip, an explosive surge of Anemo energy erupts. The force is catastrophic, a whirlwind of wind and power that devastates the museum with the fury of a tempest. The building shudders violently, glass shatters, and displays are ripped from their stands as if caught in an unseen maelstrom.

The sheer intensity of the wind throws me backward. I struggle to maintain my footing as the museum's interior is torn apart by the vortex of Anemo energy. The primal force unleashed is a physical manifestation of the storm raging within me—a chaos that mirrors my own inner turmoil. The museum's walls tremble and groan, and the remnants of exhibits are swept away as if by an invisible hand.

Amidst the wreckage, I clutch the spear with desperate determination. My breath is ragged as I stand surrounded by the devastation I've wrought. The once-pristine museum is now a scene of utter ruin, the artifacts scattered and shattered. The magnitude of my actions weighs heavily on me as I realize the true extent of the power I've unleashed.

As the storm gradually subsides, the first light of dawn filters through the wreckage. I, still holding the spear, am left alone amidst the remnants of the museum. The memories of my past life—training with Kunikuzushi, the battles, the shared camaraderie—now feel more tangible than ever. The impact of my actions and the destruction I caused force me to confront the gravity of my revelations.

The realization that my classmates are not merely friends, but part of my ancient past, is both illuminating and overwhelming. The journey to understanding my past life and reconciling it with my present existence is fraught with challenges. Yet, with the Primordial Jade Winged-Spear in my grasp and the memories it has awakened, I am resolved to face whatever lies ahead with renewed determination and clarity.

As I stand amidst the wreckage, the weight of my newfound memories is both a burden and a guide. The path to uncovering the truth behind my past and integrating it into my current life will be arduous, but I am prepared to navigate the storm of my own making with unwavering resolve.

Something hovers above me, my Anemo Vision.