To see which function dominates in Wanderer’s consciousness, let’s examine the core reasons behind his actions — the beliefs that he crafted over his lifetime and put above everything else: 1. “Humans can’t live without a heart.” “I’m not human.” 2. “Humans are traitors.” “They can’t be trusted.” 3. “The world is an elaborate tapestry of lies.” “I denounce it and laugh in its face.” 4. “The Heart of God should be mine.” “I will scrub away every trace of human emotions and become a deity.” “I’m a god.” 5. “I’m worthless.” “Relationships are barters — they’re scales to be balanced with deeds.” 6. “I wronged others.” “Dottore wronged me.” “This should be set right.” What’s common in all of these is that they’re either judgments (“A = B”) or instructions for action (“one should…”) built on those judgments. For us, watching from the outside and knowing the truth about his past from the start, it’s obvious that most of these judgments are inconsistent with reality. But what stands behind them? How did Wanderer arrive at them, and why does he believe them? To answer that, we have to look at the world through his eyes and use his own reasoning: 1. Despite people initially accepting him, it’s a fact that Wanderer isn’t human, and it’s true that he doesn’t have a heart in his chest while every real human does. These are objective facts on which he became fixated because of his personal experience — Ei taking the Heart of God away from him, the swordsmiths betraying him. The connection he draws between them rationally explains what happened and why: “Humans rejected me because I’m not one of them, because I don’t have a heart.” 2. Why does he believe humans can’t be trusted? Because they betrayed him: they broke their promises to him. His friend smiled at him but stabbed him in the back; the kid promised him that death wouldn’t break them apart, then died anyway. This is how humans proved to Wanderer that they’re traitors — which, to him, obviously means they can’t be trusted. 3. He was also lied to. He listened to the reassurances that he was accepted, that he counted as human despite being “heartless”, that he didn’t have to prove anything, that hearts could be born from ashes. After experience showed those words had no substance, he concluded that the merry world they lived in was built on lies meant to cover a harsher truth that would inevitably destroy everything. There was no reason to keep playing along after that. 4. Once it was clear he had nothing to do with humans, the natural question was “what is my purpose?” He didn’t need to dwell on it, because the answer was already there: he’d been originally created to bear the Heart of God. So the attempt to blend in with humans had simply been a mistake. Instead, he had to turn around and fulfill the purpose he was made for in the first place. 5. And yet he believes himself unworthy, something to be remade. That’s understandable, since after his creation he was deemed unneeded and cast aside — and there’d have been no reason for his mother to discard him if he’d offered anything useful to her. He draws a further conclusion from this: if you don’t make yourself useful to others, you’ll be discarded by them. Relationships are transactions; to establish one, you have to prove your usefulness and keep track of your debts. 6. After learning the truth about the past, he realized his beliefs were founded on false premises — that he’d been fooled, that he’d done unjust things because of his wrong conclusions. He recognized this and changed course: “mistakes are to be corrected.” There’s nothing cryptic or exceptional about Wanderer’s reasoning here. His beliefs become easy to understand once you step into his shoes, and he has no trouble communicating and explaining himself — he does it clearly in the trailer. All of these conclusions are logical judgments built on evidential data data and events from his experience — to him, simple truths that could be fact-checked against the historical record or his own body. The judgments he makes (“The kid broke the promise” + “Those who break promises are traitors” = “The kid was a traitor”) are predicative judgments; the conclusions he draws from repeated instances (“Every human I’ve met was a traitor” → “Every human is a traitor”) are inductive reasoning. Wanderer consistently relies on logical judgments that structure and explain his life experience, put objective circumstances above everything else, and dictate how one should act based on them. His core beliefs — the reasons behind his actions — are products of Te. He is guided by Te above any other cognitive function. Looking at the list of Wanderer’s beliefs, it’s easy to see how heavily he relies on rational judgments. His judgments label every object and event, his conclusions explain why or for what reason everything happens, and his solutions prescribe how one should act and interact with the world. He places these judgments so high in his consciousness that he treats them as universal, world-level truths, and acts in order to bend himself and his surroundings to them. This places him among the Rational types. Looking again at his reasoning, you can see how thoroughly Wanderer’s consciousness is oriented toward external data: • He was deemed unfit and cast aside — so he needs to remake himself. • He has no heart, and all humans have a heart — so he can’t be one of them. • Humans betrayed him — so they’re traitors and can’t be trusted. • He was only ever lied to — so this lying world should be denounced. • He was created with a purpose — so he must fulfill it. • He learned his worldview was built on false data — so he drops his beliefs. All of his fundamental beliefs and guidelines are grounded in let me call it “objective relations”. He places no personal view, no value, no “subjective factor” between himself and the fact — he simply accepts it and adapts his actions to it. External reality directly dictates to him what he is and what he should do. That is what makes him extraverted. So the conclusion — that Wanderer is an extraverted rational type — comes from examining his own conscious attitude: his stated thoughts, reasoning, worldview, and motivations, rather than just his outward behavior or mannerisms, since those can be read very differently by an outside observer with no access to what’s actually going on in his head. Of course, this reading of the character could be wrong — there might be some hidden agenda behind a false front of reasoning. But if these stated beliefs match the lore and were his genuine motivations, there’s really no option besides ET for a character built this way. What confirms this is that Fi is his most inadequate function. Out of the facts of his experience, Wanderer builds an “intellectual formula” — a set of rules that dictates what any object in the world is and how one must behave toward it, regardless of his actual feelings, wants, or other factors. This comes at a cost: the feeling function this formula suppresses doesn’t disappear, it just goes underground, and its influence shows up sideways, in distorted form, throughout his behavior. Scaramouche wanted to get rid of his feelings and his humanness because of his “realizations.” He tried to fulfill his “true purpose” and “fix his mistakes” at the expense of his own bodily integrity and social connections. He’s so detached from himself and his inner values that he came to see himself as a blank sheet of paper with no meaning unless it’s filled in with the “truth” this world taught him. No part of his life was spared in service of that truth. Most of his stated principles ignore or deny his inner feelings, or dictate what he’s supposed to feel: he’s not one of the humans and can’t trust them (despite clearly wishing to befriend them); relationships are just scales to be balanced (despite being obviously attached to specific people in his life); he denounces this world and laughs in its face (despite plainly feeling pain, loss, sadness, and a desire to belong). It even looks, for a long stretch, as though he had no feelings at all about his mother or humans — until he “realized” he’d been a victim of their wrongdoing, and only the “right feelings” were allowed through. Since feelings can’t actually be switched off, only silenced and pushed out of awareness, they follow him everywhere unconsciously; their echo shows up behind nearly every action and judgment he makes, painting him as offended, resentful, and vindictive without him ever recognizing it that way — in his own understanding, he’s just “telling the truth” and “fulfilling his purpose.”