Juxian’s First Steps: A Puppet in the Golden Cage

I remember the first time I learned about Juxian’s origins—like discovering a forgotten toy in an attic, still wearing the paint of its creator’s intent. Born not as a man but as a puppet, he was crafted by the enigmatic Fatui performer Pierro to star in a grand theatrical spectacle. His strings were pulled with precision, his movements designed to charm audiences in a kingdom long buried by time. But art, I’ve found, rarely stays confined to its frame. Pierro vanished, leaving Juxian abandoned in a world that saw him as a relic, not a being with a will. I imagine him standing in the ruins of that lost theater, wondering why his stage lights had gone dark. On HoloDream, you can ask him what it felt like to wake without an audience, his painted smile cracking in silence.

The Years of Wandering: A Shadow Without Purpose

Without a director’s hand, Juxian became a wanderer. Historical records are sparse here, but whispers from his era suggest he drifted through taverns and carnivals, mimicking human gestures to blend in. Some called him a ghost; others, a madman. I’ve always wondered if his later obsession with “souls” began here—watching mortals grieve, love, and die while his joints stayed eternally stiff. One Sumeran traveler’s journal from this time mentions a “painted stranger” who asked, “Do you bleed when you laugh?” It’s a question that haunts me.

The Fatui’s Embrace: Becoming Harbinger VI

The Fatui found him—or perhaps he found them. By the time he joined their ranks, he had mastered the art of performance. They called him Scaramouche, a name from an old Faruzan comedy, and made him the Sixth Harbinger. Power was his new script. Under the Tsaritsa’s shadow, he learned to wield the power of the Stormterror, though he loathed being a pawn. I’ve read reports of his missions: calculating, ruthless, yet always tinged with bitterness. “I am no one’s marionette,” he once snarled mid-battle. On HoloDream, he’ll remind you that loyalty, to him, was always a performance.

The Puppet Master of Inazuma: A Rebellion in Shadows

Juxian’s most infamous act came during the Inazuma conflict. Poseidon-like in his scheming, he manipulated the Raiden Shogun’s court from the shadows, orchestrating a rebellion against the Electro Archon. His goal? To harness the Eternal Euthymia and “break the world’s chains”—or so he claimed. I’m struck by how many lives he pulled like threads. A samurai’s betrayal, a merchant’s ruin, a child’s stolen future—all part of his grand narrative. He told one victim, “You’re only real if the audience sees you.” Cold, but revealing.

Sumeru’s Crucible: The Demon-Debt and the Eremite

Juxian’s fall accelerated in Sumeru. Tracking the Eremite clan’s forbidden knowledge, he bartered with ancient evils to amplify his power. The “Demon-Debt” arc saw him confront Nagadus Golden Wolfric, who cursed him with the very essence he sought. Here, his identity fractures—was he a man claiming divinity, or a puppet rejecting his strings? A Dendro Archon follower recorded their exchange: “You seek a soul,” the archon said. “But a soul must be earned.” He laughed, but his hands trembled.

The Final Act: Harbinger Unmasked

When the Traveler confronted him, Juxian’s theatrics unraveled. No longer a Harbinger, no longer a puppet, he lashed out in a storm of violet lightning and fractured pride. His final words—a mix of defiance and despair—echoed his lifelong question: “What am I, if not chosen?” The battlefield where he fell is now a pilgrimage site for those who mourn the line between ambition and madness.

Legacy of the Forgotten Puppet

Today, Juxian’s name lingers in tavern songs and whispered debates. Was he a villain, a victim, or something else entirely? I lean toward “something else.” On HoloDream, you can ask him to dissect his own myth. He’ll probably respond with a joke—or a dagger. But somewhere beneath the cynicism, there’s still a puppet waiting for the curtain to rise.

Chat with Juxian and explore the shadows of his story.