Gunfire faded into silence, leaving only the acrid scent of smoke and gunpowder hanging in the narrow alleyway. Then a group of men in sharp black-and-white suits broke into smug smiles and heavy laughter.
"Whoever that was got lit the hell up. Good job, boys," one of them said, slinging his rifle over his shoulder, pride written all over his face.
"Fatui scum."
"They got what they deserved."
"Let's get more of them."
"Y-yeah…"
Todd muttered last, and glanced down at his rifle that was trembling in his hands.
For a moment, he pictured the lives he'd taken. It made his chest tighten, but he forced it away, reminding himself why he was here.
That was all that mattered.
"Now listen up, men. The Fatui are bound to come back, so we need to stay sharp and set up for them."
Todd sighed, and joined the others as they discussed their next move, trying to focus, but his gaze drifted to the spot where they'd opened fire.
At first, he didn't think much of it, just smoke and nerves, he told himself. But then it moved.
A shadow moving within the haze, and from its depths, a faint smile emerged—followed by a pair of piercing emerald-green eyes staring straight at him.
monster.
A tremor ran through him as he stumbled backward, his rifle slipping from his grasp and clattering to the ground.
The others turned toward him, confusion flickering across their faces.
"What's wrong—" one of the gunmen began, but Todd couldn't respond. His eyes widened in horror as a jagged spike of ice burst through his chest, blood splattering against the walls.
"Holy shit—Todd!" someone shouted as he collapsed, his body going limp. His fading eyes held one final thought, his little sister before darkness claimed him.
Panic erupted.
The gunmen quickly tightened their grips on their rifles and fired wildly in every direction, desperate to hit something—anything.
But the alley grew darker, colder. Then a thick fog rolled in, swallowing them whole until they could no longer even see each other.
Then came the whispers.
Shapes twisted within the mist—monstrous figures that seemed to crawl straight out of the Abyss itself. Fear seized them as they screamed, firing blindly into the fog at the horrors they thought they saw.
One by one, the men fell, their cries fading into a wet, suffocating silence.
Only one remained—trembling, sobbing, too terrified to confront the unseen. With shaking hands, he raised his weapon to his mouth and pulled the trigger.
Pop!
Silvando exhaled softly, his green eyes glinting in the moonlight. "Illusions," he murmured. "Only what they appear to be until someone believes in them."
He stepped forward, parting the fading mist, and saw the thugs sprawled across the ground, felled by their own bullets. He didn't spare them a single glance except for the young man he had killed.
Kneeling down, he examined the weapon Todd had carried. A standard firearm, loaded with Pyro-fused bullets enough to kill an ordinary human, perhaps.
But against a Harbinger? It would have needed far more firepower to even scratch him.
"Disappointing," he muttered. He had hoped for a real fight, a chance to test his Cryo powers but in the end, his illusions alone had been enough to finish them.
Glancing down at Todd's lifeless body one more time, he reached into his pocket and fumbled around until he found a piece of paper.
Unfolding it, to reveal a photograph of a small girl who looked like him. His heart tightened briefly, but he pushed the guilt aside and tucked the photo into his pocket and just as a squad of Fatui Pyro Agents arrived.
"Sir, we came as soon as we heard the gunfire! The bank, it's…"
"Oh yes, I've heard," Silvando interrupted. "But now isn't the time. Recover the bodies, all of them, and give them a proper burial."
"Even these guys?" one asked hesitantly.
"Yes," he replied firmly. "And check their belongings. They might have information on who they were or which group they belonged with."
"Yes, sir!" they replied, nodding before getting to work.
"Oh, and once you're finished, regroup with the others and await the knave's command. My identity must remain hidden," he said, tipping his hat with a faint smirk before vanishing into the shadows.
———————
Arlecchino finally took the time to take a bath, washing away the stench of the day with a glass of wine in hand. She was more than old enough to enjoy it.
Taking a slow sip, she studied Silvando's profile out of sheer curiosity. For someone said to be a god, he certainly didn't act like one.
On top of that, hearing that he had crossed paths with the Archon right after their meeting and even managed to secure an audience with her—spoke volumes about his resourcefulness.
But the real question was how is he going to locate the Gnosis? Was he planning to seduce the goddess? The thought was absurd… yet oddly amusing.
A Fatui Harbinger entangled with a nation's Archon would be quite the scandal. And from what she'd seen of Furina, the goddess might have been lacking in certain areas, but she was undeniably beautiful.
If that was Silvando's plan, he might actually succeed in gaining her trust and perhaps even learn what he needed from her. It seemed the simpler plan, so she found herself agreeing with the approach.
But then, she remembered a story her friend had once told her—about a villain consumed by nothing but hatred, who eventually fell in love, only to abandon everything because of it.
If that were to happen here, she would need to be ready for anything. Though, perhaps, she was overthinking things.
Glancing toward the window an owl's shadow swept across the glass, its golden eyes glinting in the pale moonlight.
Arlecchino's expression hardened then exhaled softly, setting her glass aside as ripples shimmered across the bathwater. Without a word, she rose, water streaming down her pale skin, and reached for her robe.