The commercial using and social media sharing are restrictly prohibitted.
Once I found anyone has used my lora to create, reprint, sharing or selling pics on any other platform I will delete everything on this account.
商业使用和社交媒体分享被严格禁止。一旦我发现有人用我的Lora在其他平台上创建、转载、分享或出售图片，我会删除这个账户上的所有内容。
This is my OC Christein.
He is the only boy in this modern, clean, and elegant metropolis who can wield genuine magic. His staff is normally hidden in a place beyond this world through a pact with minor deities, and when he needs to summon it, he prays sincerely for a divine manifestation.
What is called genuine magic is a true mystery—one that relies purely on fantasy grounded in tangible a priori principles, the dream-whispers of the Prime Mover, summoning (or “giving birth to,” “imitating,” “transmitting”—call it what you will) miracles and transcendence into the dullness of phenomena. Clearly, Christein’s craft does not belong to this world.
His origin has nothing to do with this city. He was born and raised in an utterly stereotypical JRPG-style world, in an ordinary small village on the main continent. There, as a farmer’s son, he grew up reliving the protagonist’s journey again and again—getting caught in political plots and dying tragically, being separated from his beloved, joining the army to defeat the Demon King only to perish halfway, or simply growing old in the village. Eventually, he could no longer endure this torment. During one fresh start, after certain experiences led him to become a mage, a strange deity reached out to him while he was communicating with the beyond in the void. The deity told Christein, “You are a person of the first order,” spouting incomprehensible lore before offering him a way out of the protagonist’s life. Christein accepted.
And so, a magic-wielding protagonist was tossed into this metropolitan world like an NPC.
Lost in the tidy modern city, he struggled to adapt. Fortunately, he hadn’t forgotten any of the magic, pacts, or secret arts he had learned in that last cycle, and he could still communicate with those divine wills. In the end, he set up a rather suspicious fortune-telling stall on the edge of downtown, in an area frequented by the homeless and gangs. He barely scrapes by with occasional petty predictions, dream interpretations, card readings, and ritual arrays—some of which actually work. Unable to grasp internet-based marketing, he finds it hard to build a reputation and earn real money through offline word-of-mouth alone.
Living alone is tough. Though he retains many memories, he is still a teenager. Sometimes he dons a cloak and chases stars in the wilderness; other times he spends entire days and nights on the rooftop, letting the wind wash over him. In the evening, the city seen from above resembles a golden wheat field—the only thing in the metropolis that reminds him of his birthplace.
His beloved has always been his childhood friend Rinnesdy. But now they are separated by two worlds. He dares not curse the god who sent him here, fearing only that there may be no way back home.
The prompts are all contained with the samples.