Deep beneath Fontaine, in a dimly lit chamber lined with cold, riveted steel walls, a man with sharp brown hair and dressed in crimson sat behind an obsidian desk.
"So, the Fatui are back," he muttered, raising a cigar between his fingers. "And they have the audacity to return… to reclaim what they lost."
He rose from his seat, his boots echoing softly against the metal floor as he turned toward the lazily spinning fan. With deliberate ease, he lit the cigar and took a slow drag before exhaling smoke.
"So," he said at last, voice low and measured, "what exactly are the Fatui poking around for this time?"
Behind him stood a young woman with blue eyes, and wore a crisp white blouse adorned with a black bow and a matching skirt that swayed slightly as she approached.
"They've been investigating the disappearances of several teenage girls," she replied.
"Oh?" He arched a brow, amusement and disdain mingling in his tone. "So they've suddenly decided to take a stand against human trafficking? After all the effort it took to pay off the right officials to look the other way… and now they're meddling in our affairs."
"That's not the only news," she said, handing him a sealed report. He broke the seal and gave it a quick glance.
"A new Harbinger?" His lip curled faintly. "And a girl, no less. To think the Fatui would appoint a seventeen-year-old as a Harbinger—it's almost laughable."
"Flip the page."
He did so.
Natlan Report:
All operations in the region have been suspended due to increased Fatui activity. As usual, the one known as The Fool has been investigating ancient ruins. However, the Harbinger has reportedly been missing for nearly a month, and Fatui presence in the area has sharply declined.
I suspect the Fatui have completed whatever business they had there, and with that in mind, I believe we can safely resume operations and begin mining the rare materials once more.
Signed, C.
"Very good news," he said with a grin, the smoke from his cigar curling around his face. "With him gone, we can restart our operations."
"Sir, I don't mean to spoil your mood," the woman said carefully, "but aren't you at least a little curious why that Harbinger suddenly left? Last I checked, he'd been in Natlan for quite some time. Then, out of nowhere—he's gone."
"Well, of course I am," he replied, his tone darkening. "He's one of the four powerhouses of the Fatui. Beyond that, all we know is that he goes by The Fool."
"I heard rumors he might be heading to Fontaine," she added. "But my insider wouldn't confirm or deny it."
His expression hardened. "And you couldn't have told me that earlier? Do you even realize what we're doing here? If he's coming to Fontaine, then something big is happening."
"I'm sorry, sir. But if he really is coming here—what for? Fontaine doesn't have much to offer beyond its technology… unless he's after something hidden in those deep underwater ruins."
A slow grin returned to his face. "You make a fair point. But regardless of his reason, I believe it's time we reminded the Fatui that this nation belongs to us."
"And if he gets involved?" she asked quietly.
He turned, eyes glinting in the dim light. "If The Fool truly is in Fontaine, we watch… we learn… and when the time is right—we strike."
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Justice… but what is justice, truly? Silvando wondered as he lay alone in the empty shop he'd just rented, eyes fixed on the ceiling.
Reading the reports on Furina's habits left him questioning the so-called god of justice, one who did little, if anything, to uphold the very concept she represented.
From indulging in sweets to performing on stage and attending trials, and the citizens who treat her more of a celebrity than a god.
And there was something strange about her—an odd aura he couldn't shake from his mind. Beside that, the Gnosis wasn't in her possession, which meant he would have to play the long game.
Man, he kind of wished Stolas could pry into the minds of strong-willed individuals and dig up information—but that was beyond the owl's reach.
The only thing that bird was really good for was weaving dreams—pleasant or horrifying. Like that one time he made the scaramouche see the Electro Archon in his dream making it feel real.
That thought made him laugh, though he understood the feeling all too well. He, too, had been created but not abandoned. No, his purpose had simply been for someone else's amusement.
Rising from the floor, his eyes sweeping over the empty room cold, silent, and devoid of warmth. No one to speak to. No one to keep him company.
Then he looked down at his hands, slowly opening and closing them as memories resurfaced the moment he first came into being, the piercing golden eyes that greeted him, and the words that sealed his fate.
He had been created for one purpose: to fight the Abyss. And if he survived… he would be greatly rewarded.
That creator's name? Azelthar.
One of the five Shades who governed the fundamental domains of existence: Death, Life, Time, Space, and lastly, Chaos. And it was Chaos—his creator—who could bend reality itself to his will.
Silvando's eyes burned with hatred. He wanted nothing more than to tear that smug grin off his creator's face—for making him watch everything he loved burn. But revenge would come, in time. He would turn their own power against them.
And he would use the Gnosis to do it.
But that time wasn't now. For now, he needed to get his shop up and running… and find out where Stolas had gone.
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Inside the Palais Mermonia, a young girl with dark blue hair was seen carrying a birdcage containing a white owl with golden eyes that hooted softly as they passed by curious officers and Melusines.
Setting the cage down on the front marble desk, she let out a soft sigh of relief. The owl was heavier than it looked. Still, as an officer, it was her duty to serve the Archon without complaint.
"Oh, Clorinde! How have you been lately?" An older officer greeted a friendly smile.
"Work as always," she said with a straight face. "Also, the Archon asked me to leave this owl here overnight and return it in the morning to a man named Fenn. Apparently, he's a toymaker, so just look up any business licenses under that name."
"Understood," the officer said, stepping forward. "Now, come here, little fella." He took the cage and carried it toward the back, while Stolas hooted softly.