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n the damp and dimly lit streets of the Fontaine night, the shadows were a perfect veil to conceal Arlecchino's breath. As she watched the deserted street below from a high roof ledge, her red cross-shaped eyes were locked onto a single target. Below, under the feeble light of a street lamp, crouched the Hydro Archon. Standing on the wet stones in her flamboyant outfit that compromised none of her elegance, she had given her full attention to a small cat cowering in the corner of the street.
"Ah, come here..." Furina murmured in a cheerful and carefree voice. As she reached out to the cat, her voice echoed in the silence of the night. "You little rascal..."
There was no expression on Arlecchino's face, but her mind was constantly calculating. Her sole purpose was to gather information; to learn the secret behind this masquerade, the status of the Gnosis, and the truth of the prophecy awaiting Fontaine. She had never expected the opportunity to approach Furina to be handed to her on a silver platter like this. In fact, everything being this easy made her internally suspicious.
Anything left unguarded is usually just bait, she thought to herself. Her eyes scanned the street for the slightest movement. However... no one can blame someone for taking the bait. After all, from the moment it is attached to the hook, the bait is meant to be sacrificed.
The Harbinger broke away from the shadows.
Her movement was as silent and inevitable as a falling guillotine. The second her foot touched the street's surface, the cat hissed and vanished into the darkness. Arlecchino cut off her prey's escape route in a single swift motion, slamming her hand violently against the cold stone wall and cornering Furina.
Furina flinched in terror. Her eyes widened as if they would pop out of their sockets, her body slamming hard against the stone wall. The cheerful, carefree figure playing with the cat just moments ago shattered into pieces within seconds. Her breathing suddenly accelerated, her chest rising and falling in a panic. Pressing both hands reflexively over her heart, she shrank back helplessly, as if she wanted to blend into the stone wall and disappear.
"N-no..." Furina whispered. Her voice was trembling, catching in her throat. Tears spilling from her tear ducts rushed down her pale cheeks. "Please... Please don't hurt me!"
As Arlecchino's flame-sealed hand reached out toward her, her mind continued its analysis. She searched for the presence of that divine energy, the Hydro Gnosis, at the tips of her outstretched hand, but found nothing.
Just as I guessed in the second before I struck... Arlecchino's gaze grew cold. The Hydro Gnosis is not currently held by the Archon.
"I beg you..." Furina's sobs hit the walls of the street. Her legs trembled; struggling to stand, she rubbed her back against the wall and slid down slightly. "What do you want from me? I don't know anything! Believe me, I have nothing to give you!"
Arlecchino's red irises studied the miserable state of her prey with detached attention. The entity before her was so fragile, so weak, that she resembled a cornered prey awaiting death rather than a god.
This Archon doesn't seem like a god at all, the Harbinger thought to herself, feeling a deep sense of disappointment. Furina's pupils trembled with fear, every fiber of her screaming in terror. And I sense that she's under some kind of curse... This fear in her pupils, this helplessness is completely genuine. She is not bait. Just a weak, pitiful creature.
But Arlecchino needed answers. She had no intention of returning without learning the truth hidden in the shadows. Ruthlessly, she took another step, completely erasing the distance between them. With her black-gloved hand, she grabbed Furina's sob-shaken jaw with a harsh, uncompromising force and forced her head up, compelling her to look into her own cold eyes.
"Cut this pathetic theatrics," Arlecchino whispered. Her voice cleaved through the damp air of the street like toxic smoke. "Since you do not carry that divine relic within you, then you will give me the secrets you are hiding. The doom awaiting Fontaine, the rot behind its justice... Everything".
Furina's tear-soaked eyelashes fluttered. Her lips parted to form the word "Please..." one more time.
But that word never spilled from her lips.
That violent trembling beneath Arlecchino's fingers stopped not in seconds; but instantly, in a single moment like a knife cutting a rope. Her rapid, panic-filled breathing was cut off like a knife. That helpless body, which had shown no resistance to the hand gripping her jaw, suddenly became as immovable and calm as a statue.
The flawlessly functioning mechanism in Arlecchino's mind misfired for the first time. What was happening?
And then, the sound that completely froze that damp and dark street was heard.
"Ah..."
What spilled from those pale, wet lips was not a sob; it was a clear, cheerful, and exceedingly melodic giggle that chimed like a silver bell. The giggle grew, transforming into a joyful laugh that carried the echo of centuries, as playful as the sun-kissed waves of the ocean, yet equally profound. Furina was laughing. Between Arlecchino's fingers, face to face with death, she was laughing genuinely as if she had just heard the funniest joke in the world.
"Truly..." Furina's voice was completely stripped of its previous high-pitched and fragile tone. In its place came a whisper carrying the elusive, absolute authority of the seas. "You truly believed it".
The air Arlecchino drew into her lungs suddenly grew heavy. The ordinary moisture in the street turned into the crushing pressure of the deepest oceanic trenches in seconds. That strange feeling she had mistaken for a "curse" was actually the unbearable surface tension of an entire sea, and now that tension was bearing down on Arlecchino's shoulders.
Furina slowly raised her white-gloved fingers and gently wrapped them around Arlecchino's wrist that was crushing her jaw. There was not a shred of brute force in the pressure she applied; there was only a soft but irresistible will that a mortal could never break. Arlecchino's hand was pushed away from Furina's face outside of her own control.
The Hydro Archon slowly raised her head. Those eyes that had just been shining with tears and trembling with fear were gone; in their place was a divine joy that was sharp, shining brightly, and simply savoring the game she was playing.
"Did you think the fear in my eyes was real, Knave?" Furina tilted her head slightly to the side, leisurely observing the bewilderment appearing on Arlecchino's unwavering face with a warm, playful smile on her lips. "To think that someone who has played the leading role on this stage for hundreds of years couldn't shed a few drops of tears... What sweet naivety. What a huge disappointment that the rumors of the Fatui merely being foolish diplomats in stylish coats are true".
That momentary state of paralysis in Arlecchino's mind shattered with the Harbinger's century-old combat experience and the unquenchable anger within her. When the future of her own children, the House of the Hearth, was at stake, and an entire nation was on the brink of annihilation, seeing this entity treat the situation like a cheap comedy reignited the fire in Arlecchino's veins.
Despite the crushing Hydro pressure in the air, she clenched her jaw and forcefully lowered the arm she had freed from Furina's grip to her side. Her red cross-shaped eyes flashed like a dangerous flame illuminating the night.
"Are you laughing at this?" Arlecchino hissed, her voice echoing as it struck the walls of the street. "Fontaine is on the brink of destruction. The waters of the Primordial Sea are rising and the people are about to melt and mix into the waters. And you... the so-called God of Justice, do absolutely nothing but shed fake tears and play the victim in these dark streets!"
The air in the street stopped completely for a moment. The wind died down, the vibrations in the puddles on the ground ceased.
Right at that moment, the illusion of the suffering Focalors she thought she knew was shattered forever. Furina's cheerful smile cracked and shattered like glass. The expression on her face changed so radically, so terrifyingly in seconds that Arlecchino was instinctively forced to take a step back. Those mischievous irises in the Hydro Archon's eyes instantly darkened; they turned into the bottomless darkness of the ocean trenches where colossal sea monsters lay.
"Doing nothing?"
As the words spilled from her lips, they echoed not in Arlecchino's ears, but directly within her mind. Furina took a step toward Arlecchino, exceedingly slowly, as if she were gliding underwater. She slowly raised her white-gloved index finger and touched beneath Arlecchino's jaw, right on her jugular vein, with a touch as light as a feather but as cold as ice.
"You Snezhnayan diplomats... You only look at the ripples on the surface of the water and think you can read the direction of the storm. The thing you call a prophecy is merely a curtain call played out on my stage." The ancient echo in Furina's voice pierced right through to Arlecchino's bones. "Keep thinking I am doing nothing, Knave. But a warning for you... Do not mistake every shadow you see in the darkness for prey. Sometimes, that incomprehensible entity at the bottom of the sea is only pretending to be asleep. Do not ever step foot into my waters, onto my stage, uninvited again".
The words hung in the air. As Arlecchino's mind was crushed beneath the weight of this absolute divine threat, her century-old warrior instincts told her only one thing: If you make a single wrong move, you will not make it out of this street alive.
But at that moment... Something unexpected, something mind-boggling happened.
That massive, breathtaking ocean pressure crushing the street suddenly burst and vanished like a soap bubble pricked by a needle. Arlecchino staggered back a step involuntarily from the air rushing into her lungs, while the scene before her changed at an unbelievable speed. That freezing darkness in Furina's eyes had instantly been wiped away; returning in its place were those bright, flamboyant, and spoiled blue irises she wore when waving to her people from the balcony of the Palais Mermonia.
The hand that was crushing Arlecchino's jugular seconds ago swiftly pulled back. Furina stretched her neck in a theatrical manner, elegantly and somewhat petulantly adjusting the collar of her jacket as if she weren't the one who had just threatened the Harbinger with death.
"Honestly..." Furina said. Her voice had completely shed that ancient tone from a moment ago, instantly reverting to the exaggerated, high-pitched, and complaining tone the people of Fontaine were used to. She tossed her head haughtily in the air and placed her hands on her hips. "For a 'Father' who runs an entire orphanage, you are overly rude!"
Arlecchino froze where she stood. On the Harbinger's unwavering face appeared a pure and uncontrollable bewilderment, perhaps for the first time in her life. Her breathing was still erratic, the adrenaline in her veins still at its limit, but the Archon before her... was scolding her like a spoiled child.
Furina raised her index finger in the air and wagged it at Arlecchino chidingly. "To block a lady's path in the middle of the street at this hour of the night and create such dramatic scenes is a tremendous discourtesy! Furthermore, you scared that poor cat". She shrugged, sighing with feigned exasperation. Then, a momentary, sweet sparkle appeared in her eyes, and that famous, spoiled smile settled on her lips.
"If you truly want to speak with me about state affairs or secrets, arrange a proper meeting next time instead of hiding in the shadows. I might grant you an official tea time at the Palais Mermonia".
Just as Arlecchino opened her mouth to say something, Furina quickly added, as if she had just remembered a very important detail:
"And do not forget to bring some snacks with you when you come! Freshly baked Madeleines and a few slices of La Lettre a Focalors pastry with plenty of cream squeezed on top wouldn't be bad... If you come to my tea time empty-handed, I won't let you through the door, let me tell you from the start!"
And then Furina turned her back. As if she hadn't just almost drowned Arlecchino in the ocean of her own power, she began walking, practically skipping, toward the lights at the end of the street, humming a cheerful melody. Her skirts fluttered joyfully.
Arlecchino, on the other hand, was left behind, all alone in the middle of the wet cobblestone street. For the first time in her life, she had lost control so definitively. As her red cross-shaped eyes watched from behind that figure blending joyfully into the night, only a single, bewildered whisper could spill from the Fourth Harbinger's lips.
"Just... what kind of entity is this?"