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Genshin Impact está dejando caer la versión 5.4 con el Festival de Flores Mikawa pronto
Genshin Impact está dejando caer la versión 5.4 con el Festival de Flores Mikawa pronto
La versión 5.4 de Genshin Impact, "Moonlight en medio de sueños", llega el 12 de febrero, con el Festival de las Flores de Mikawa, una celebración centenaria que une a los humanos y Youkai.
Un festival de ensueño espera ...
El festival de Mikawa cuenta con minijuegos encantadores pero desafiantes. "Un pequeño sueño de zorro" te asigna a guiar a un zorro amante de Tofu a través de un paisaje de ensueño. "Bunshin Phantasm" te desafía a imitar los movimientos de Muji-Muji Daruma para llegar a la línea de meta en tres intentos. El "Akitsu Harpastum" que regresa exige un esquivador hábil y la recuperación de Harpastum para mantener la vitalidad, recompensando a los jugadores con sellos de festivales para premios como el nuevo Polearm de 4 estrellas, "Tamayuratei no Ohanashi".
Conoce a la estrella de la versión 5.4
Yumemizuki Mizuki, un usuario de Catalyst Anemo de 5 estrellas, ocupa el centro del escenario. Su estado de DreamDrifter libera aoe anemo dmg y aumenta las reacciones de remolino. Su explosión elemental convoca a un mini baku dispensador de golosinas. Ella aparecerá en la primera mitad junto a una repetición de Sigewinne, mientras que Furina y Wriothesley Reruns adornan la segunda mitad. ¿Extraña a Mizuki? Ella se unirá al estandarte estándar en la versión 5.5.
Más que solo minijuegos
La versión 5.4 presenta "Tales de viajeros: Capítulo de antología", que ofrece historias de personajes conmovedores. ¡Ve un vistazo en el trailer a continuación!
¿Listo para experimentar las festividades? ¡Descargue Genshin Impact de Google Play Store y salte a la acción!¡No olvides ver nuestras últimas noticias sobre el nuevo modo 4v4 de Stumble Guys con un mapa personalizado!
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Lectura
Two Embers – Part 1
By [Your Name]
The sky over Vaelthar had not known true night for seven years.
It was not darkness that had been stolen—it was silence. The stars, once silver needles stitching the heavens, had been smothered by a slow, creeping haze: the breath of the Emberwyrms, ancient beasts of fire and memory, stirring once more from their slumber beneath the ash-choked earth. Their awakening had not come with war, nor with thunder. It came in whispers—flickers in the wind, embers carried on forgotten songs.
And now, from the ruins of the old city, two figures moved like shadows through the ash.
One was a girl—barely more than a child, with hair like burnt copper and eyes that shimmered like polished obsidian. She carried no weapon, only a cracked locket hanging from a chain of blackened iron. Inside, a portrait of a man who had not lived to see her grow.
The other was a man—or what was left of him. His face was hidden beneath a helm forged from the petrified wing of a dead wyrm, and his cloak was stitched from ash-woven silk, said to absorb sound. He called himself Kaelen the Mute, though he had once spoken in tongues. He carried a blade named Dawn's Last Sigh, its edge not made of steel, but of captured lightning.
They walked not toward safety, but toward the heart of the Emberfen—the dead forest where trees burned without flame, their roots feeding on sorrow.
“Why here?” she whispered, her voice barely louder than the wind through the skeletons of birch.
Kaelen did not answer. He pressed a hand to his chest, where a scar pulsed like a dying ember. A memory. Not his own.
Then, from deep beneath the earth, a sound. A heartbeat.
Not the earth’s. Something else.
A voice, not in words, but in feeling—cold and vast, like a dream you cannot wake from.
"She remembers."
The girl flinched. The locket warmed.
“Who said that?” she demanded.
Kaelen knelt, placing a hand on the cracked soil. His fingers trembled.
“He remembers you,” he said at last, his voice rough, as if carved from stone. “And that means you are not the only one who was forgotten.”
A fire began to bloom in the distance—not from wood, not from kindling, but from the air itself. It curled upward, forming shapes: faces, half-erased, weeping.
One face turned, and for a heartbeat, the girl saw her mother.
She screamed.
And the world cracked.
To Be Continued in Two Embers – Part 2: The Weight of Names
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