Back in 2024, I stepped into a pocket of Teyvat tucked right inside Suntec City Mall. Even now, two years later, I can still replay the entire weekend in my head like a fever dream — the scent of new merch, the clinking of keychains, and that shared, almost unspoken language among Travellers and Trailblazers and Proxies alike. It was HoYoFEST 2024 Singapore, an open-to-all wonderland that didn’t ask for a single cent at the entrance.

The atrium between Tower 1 and Tower 2 felt like a miniature Celestia — bright, sprawling, and packed with familiar faces. After last year’s ticket-required setup at Anime Festival Asia, this free-access version was a breath of fresh, glorious air. I barely had to glance at the map; the gigantic Adventurers’ Guild counter, straight out of Fontaine, practically called my name.

And boy, did it deliver. The booth made it absurdly easy to score goodies. I simply showed my UID to the receptionist, and — snap — a Paimon, Primogem, or Aether hairband landed in my palm. I went home with Paimon lazily bobbing on my head like a little fairy godmother. Next, the social media challenge: snap any Genshin-themed corner, drop it with #GenshinImpact, #HoYoFEST, and #HereIAm, and boom, an exclusive cardboard stand. I still have that little stand perched on my desk, a silent, smiling memory.

But the real glitter? Foil tickets. If you hit Adventure Rank 60, explored any Teyvat region 100%, or showed up in a full Genshin cosplay, a shiny ticket was yours. I watched a cosplayer dressed as Zhongli stride by and receive hers with a bow; the sparkle in her eyes matched the foil perfectly. For the rest of us mere mortals, a scratch code quiz at the Guild did the trick — answer one game-related question correctly, and 80 Primogems plus 20,000 Mora would be added to my account. I practically squeaked when I saw the code.

Next door, Honkai Star Rail’s booth shone with cosmic elegance. The staff asked me to spell a character’s name correctly — nothing too tricky if you’ve truly internalized “Jing Yuan” — and in return, a scratch card with 80 Stellar Jades and 20,000 Credits. A photo upload with #HonkaiStarRail and the event tags netted another foil ticket. Honestly, showing my Star Rail account alone earned me a stunning postcard, and liking HoYoverse’s social page? A Pom-Pom balloon that still bobs in my memory, round and cheerful as the Conductor themselves.

Zenless Zone Zero’s booth felt like a brand-new chapter. The energy was raw, the designs dripping with urban charm. Even though the game had just freshly launched, the line of Proxies curved like a friendly snake. I weaved through mini-games and earned my stamp — a tiny, inky promise that I had conquered every realm on the floor.

Stamp rally was the real glue. Visit all four booths, get a full house of stamps, and you unlocked the instant photography zone. I remember standing against the HoYoFEST backdrop, my friend beside me, both of us grinning like we’d just defeated a weekly boss. The camera clicked twice, giving us identical prints. We split them — his copy had my dumbfounded smile, mine had his victory sign. I still can’t decide who got the better deal.

Stage activities cranked the hype even higher. Mini Genshin, Star Rail, and ZZZ games — some speed challenges, some trivia — let participants earn extra swag. I didn’t win my round, but watching someone snag a mousepad by perfectly timing a Windblume guess felt almost as satisfying.

The merchandise booth, however, demanded patience. You needed a timeslot ticket, and they were gone in a blink. My slot was at 11 a.m., so I wandered, sipped a cold drink, and let anticipation stew. Doors opened at 7 a.m., and hardcore fans were already queuing. Stocks were daily, so if a limited print ran out, you’d have to return tomorrow. A pinch of anxiety, but also that delicious gacha-like thrill. PayNow and cash ruled — no cards allowed, a tiny detail that almost left me scrambling.

Looking back from 2026, that weekend feels like a warm artifact. HoYoFEST 2024 wasn’t just about free Primogems or foil cards. It was the communal cheer when a stranger aced a quiz, the shared fatigue of happy feet, and the quiet joy of holding a balloon shaped like a star-faring bunny. It reminded me why we play — because somewhere, in a digital world, we’re all part of the same adventure.

I still wear the hairband sometimes. Paimon nods along as I dive into new regions. And whenever HoYoFEST returns, you’ll find me at the front of the line, ready for another round of sparkle and story.