Honkai 3rd?!?!

「HSR 4.2」
SP SW open screen animation button

[HSR 4.2pre] Castorice skin render

「GI 6.6」
V3 1.66GB

#GI 6.5.51_6.5.52_Audio_diff

📊 Statistics:
🗑 Deleted Files: 0
📝 Modified Files: 0
✨ New Files: 2

HoYoGame Music Leak | @HoYoMusicLeak

Genshin Impact updated to 6.5.52!
- Lohen
- Nicole
- Prune
- Disaster and Remorse
- Seven Edicts of Dust and Light
-

[GI 6.6] Lohen sig

In the moonless city of snow, the outland warrior mourned a realm shattered and never to return. There, amidst the frost, he lay to rest in the ground a hope that would no longer bear fruit.
His unspoken longings began to gather dust alongside that final mural, as a solitary figure left to wander the frozen plains.
He believed that by casting his old greatsword into the deathly frost, he would be able to forget the weakness of days gone by,
throw himself into endless battle, and thus find solace and joy in the tang of iron and blood.
Yet, at the very first moonfall after he left the great hall of that mountain country, the warrior abandoned the hollow lie of his own despair.

It was but a moment of confusion and folly. All he wanted, by pure instinct, was to save the maiden under attack.
All he wanted was to never again see that face and head of silver hair, as bright as the moon, buried beneath the ice and snow.
This was a man who believed he had long broken the oath of a warrior, and who wished to spill his blood in conflict merely as a means of diversion.
He launched the astral silver lance, yet untainted by crimson, into the black tide of beasts with all his might,

in a strike generations of scholars and bards would later memorialize as "The Ruin."
The bards also sing an ancient song of an outlander who roamed the frozen plains and brought calamity to a land of peace.
They sing of the man who, for the joy of conflict, drove a cold tip of astral silver through the wind and snow and shattered the snow-covered mountains,
and in so doing, leveled three prosperous kingdoms and sent vast lands into utter desolation, leaving a multitude to wander the wastes.
Everywhere one went, the cries of the innocent could be heard, mourning the calamity wrought by that single blow.

But the song is but a song. Before the pools of blood around him could even be woven into legend,
the outlander stood amidst the ruins in a daze, with nothing but glimpses of the wind and snow in his sight.
The wayward spear pierced the stone that held up the earth,
and the maiden that he meant to protect, too, perished in the billowing darkness.
The survivors of the ruined lands saw the man named Imunlaukr as the sworn enemy of their fallen clan,
and hunted him without end.

For the warrior who claimed a craving to entertain the gods with the songs of strife and blood,
the warrior who sank into despair but refused to accept his fate and who sought redemption but ended up bringing on even more grief and sorrow...
This was the very moment he finally ceased to long for salvation and became a warrior no longer.

[GI 6.6] Nicole sig
EN not full, wait TL from CN

Once upon a time, the mother of roses and lilies graced the girl's silken swaddling with a violet perfume, to ensure that the bitter gloom of death would be warded off by an endless stream of joyous dreams.
The beautiful songstress who plucked elegant melodies, once too, bathed her wings in the warm, gentle water of compassion, for the newborn noble lady must not be tarnished by the music of the world's mundane strings.
This was a time when the chains of eternity had yet to be shattered, and when carefree song could still be heard before the throne of the heavens,
a time when the days beneath the silver-white tree were as sweet as honey, and glorious messengers thronged the primordial paradise.
In a rich, golden dream steeped in the warmth of the spring sun, the innocent child basked in the doting love of all her sisters.
Cradled by the gentle azure, they shared moments of laughter with the morning dew and new-blown buds;
and by the black stone that had yet to fall, they sang soft tunes to the fading sunset and quiet evening breeze.
Their bright eyes had never witnessed the crimson beneath them, and neither had their slender hands ever touched the sad pain of injustice.

[GI 6.6] Lohen and Nicole sigs CN

背负故国的哀恸，异乡的勇士将无果的希冀葬入不见月光的雪都。
未能言说的思念与最后的壁画一并蒙尘，徒留其人于冰原上踯躅。
本以为将往日的大剑弃落于死幽的寒霜，便能将逝去的软弱遗忘，
便能投身无尽的纷争与战斗，便能在钢铁与血中寻得慰藉与欢愉，
却在离开山国殿堂后的第一次月落之时，违弃了自暴自弃的自欺。

不过是诞于一刹的恍惘。不过是本能地想要守护遭袭的陌生少女，
不过是不愿再目睹那同样如月光皎洁的面容与银发被冰雪所埋葬，
自认早已破弃勇士的誓辞、只愿让鲜血为纷争与消遣泼洒的男人，
向着如黑潮般奔涌的兽群，全力掷出那尚未饮过绯色的星银之枪。

——那便是后世的学者与吟游诗人传述的，名为「祸咎」的一击。
古老的歌谣中，徒然漂泊于冰原的异乡人为宁静之地带来了灾祸。
为纷争的欢愉，那星银的寒锋贯破了风雪，也撕裂了雪覆的山岳，
三个繁荣的国度为之毁灭，丰沃之土化作荒壤，无数人流离失所，
无论行往何方，都能听到无辜者的哭诉，哭诉那一击造就的厄果。

但歌谣终究只是歌谣。沉凝的污血尚未编织成传奇的时刻，
残垣断壁间，异乡人茫然伫立，目中所见仅有破碎的风雪。
失掷的长枪将承托大地的镇石刺穿，
本应守护的少女亦殉身卷溢的黯色。
祸咎的幸存者将其视作灭族的死敌，
无止地将名为伊蒙洛卡的男人追猎。

自言渴望以纷争与血的歌为神明奉上消遣的勇士，
自弃却不甘自弃、妄图救赎却只引致悲痛的勇士，
自这一刻，终是不再渴慕救赎，终是不再为勇士。

睡莲与蔷薇的主母曾以绀紫的芬芳抚过她的绣葆，因流溢的欢梦必将死荫的愁苦遮蔽，
拨奏雅音的美歌者曾以温润的慈水浸洗她的羽翼，因尘寰的弦音不可玷染新生的贵女。
那是永恒的枷锁尚未破碎的时代，高天的圣座前尚有无虑的欢歌，
银白之树下的光阴如流蜜般甘美，光辉的使者巡行于原初的乐园。
春阳暖煦的繁荣一梦中，纯稚的幼子曾尽享众姊妹的偏宠与眷爱。
在苍耀温柔的怀间，为破晓的白露与初绽的花蕊献上闲逸的笑语，
在未湮落的黑石边，为暮垂的晚霞与安恬的夜风吟唱柔曼的诗篇。
无染的明眸不曾目睹尘下的朱红，纤净的手未曾触及沉哀的冤痛。

然而天外星光刺破了静滞的安宁，觉堕的爱欲引燃了逆乱的燹火，
妄求僭越的长女自山巅失坠，披甲誓讨万军之王的御使相继陨灭，
蒙受眷爱的幼子却被藏匿于僻乡的殿阁，隔绝于烈怒与漫天血雨。

「我要倾覆至高者的宝座，叫那受欺压的得释放，为受屈的伸冤」
「那年幼娇嫩的姊妹，你们却不可使她心里刚硬，去与伪主争战」
「无论胜败，都不应叫她未丰的羽翼，去将我们当负的重轭承担」

无人知晓喜怒不定的主宰是何心意，正法却仍赐下了抉择的契机。
剜去昔日的神性，剥落古老的权能，幼子竟得以保全凡人的形骸，
褪下皎洁的灵衣，折断辉耀的羽翼，以脆弱的血肉之躯步向尘寰，
踽踽独行于充斥哀苦与泪水的大地，凭泥泽浸染曾不可触的足尖。

千年又千年，直至无数高阁化作砂砾，直至哀婉的悲歌隐入夜风，
流离列邦的御使，与魔女相遇的御使，终为旧日之事释然的御使，
在那只属于她一人的旅途与回忆之上，寻得了她无可替代的华冠。
昔日不曾投下目光的世间，镌刻在无法再度歌唱之人瞳中的世间，
万丈红尘，歌哭悲欢，凡人英雄的冒险，皆为孤独的指引者加冕。
——多美的世界啊。

[GI6.6v3]
Nicole SIG weapon
First part official EN, second mtl from CN

Once upon a time, the mother of roses and lilies graced the girl's silken swaddling with a violet perfume, to ensure that the bitter gloom of death would be warded off by an endless stream of joyous dreams.
The beautiful songstress who plucked elegant melodies, once too, bathed her wings in the warm, gentle water of compassion, for the newborn noble lady must not be tarnished by the music of the world's mundane strings.

This was a time when the chains of eternity had yet to be shattered, and when carefree song could still be heard before the throne of the heavens,
a time when the days beneath the silver-white tree were as sweet as honey, and glorious messengers thronged the primordial paradise.
In a rich, golden dream steeped in the warmth of the spring sun, the innocent child basked in the doting love of all her sisters.
Cradled by the gentle azure, they shared moments of laughter with the morning dew and new-blown buds;
and by the black stone that had yet to fall, they sang soft tunes to the fading sunset and quiet evening breeze.
Their bright eyes had never witnessed the crimson beneath them, and neither had their slender hands ever touched the sad pain of injustice.

MTL starts here
Yet starlight from beyond the heavens pierced the stagnant peace, and awakened desire ignited the flames of rebellion.
The eldest daughter, who sought to transgress, fell from the mountaintop; the envoys clad in armor who swore to challenge the King of Hosts perished one after another.
But the beloved youngest child was hidden away in a remote sanctuary, cut off from fury and the rain of blood that filled the skies.

“I will overturn the throne of the Most High, that the oppressed may be freed, that the wronged may be avenged.”
“But as for our youngest, tender sister—you must not harden her heart, nor let her wage war against the false sovereign.”
“Victory or defeat alike, her unripe wings must not bear the yoke that is ours to carry.”

None knew the will of the capricious ruler, yet judgment still granted a chance to choose.
By carving away her former divinity and stripping her ancient power, the child preserved a mortal form.
She shed her radiant vestments, broke her shining wings, and walked into the mortal world in fragile flesh,
wandering alone across a land filled with sorrow and tears, her once-untouchable feet stained by mire.

Thousands of years passed—until countless towers turned to sand, until mournful songs faded into the night wind.
The wandering envoy among nations, the envoy who met a witch, the envoy who finally made peace with the past—
upon a journey and memory that belonged to her alone, she found a crown that none could replace.
The world she had never once gazed upon now lay engraved within the eyes of one who could no longer sing.
The mortal realm in all its vastness—joy and grief, laughter and tears, the adventures of heroes—
all became a coronation for the lonely guide.

—What a beautiful world it is.