Crevaise's conversation with Krone had long since ended, and hunger had drawn him to the Zapolarnay kitchen like a moth to a warm flame. There he settled into a barstool, drew the fruit bowl closer to his person and rolled a grape between his thumb and forefinger.

The tip of a scar protruded from the end of their glove, coiling around a vein like a snake amidst grass. The kitchen was empty, but Crevaise pulled their garment down anyway. It was not a good time to dampen the mood with remnants of a bygone life.

The thought of a 'bygone life', however, lingered in the forefront of Crevaise's mind. He couldn't really call it that, could he? The Khaenrian in him didnt just leave. It was still there, ever-present, in both physical and mental ways. The scars, the nightmares, the way Snezhnayan civilians looked at them...all of it was a reminder of who he was, and what he couldn't escape from.

Obviously, Krone and Atrosisa had that issue too, though the former hid it with such pinpoint efficiency that it was hard to tell that they originated from Khaenriah in the first place. Kheas was not plagued with frequent nightmares (though if she was, Crevaise suspected that he would be the last to know), and the scars they donned were specks of dust in the wind - insignificant, unnoticed, irrelevant.

Atrosisa was another issue, thought Crevaise. The chances of her suffering from nightmares were few and far between, since their mental age far exceeded Crevaise's, but Atrosisa had been among some of the highest generals in Khaenriah, and that honor had carried over to the Abyss. The physical stress that aroused after defending Khaenriah from the Cataclysm could not just go away. And even now, though Atrosisa's hand commanded hilichurls and mages alike, they were not far from harm. Before she had come to them and Krone, bearing tales of the Fatui's plans, Atrosisa would often return from missions battered and bruised, hiding fear under bloodied bandages and a snappy attitude.

And then Krone had suggested joining forces with the Fatui, one of the strongest forces this side of Teyvat, and everything changed. Krone no longer returned home carrying birds with their feet tied together, their person messy as if they'd fought for the food. Atrosisa was no longer without bandages for their injuries. Crevaise had a bed, a real, warm bed, and safety in their slumber.

And with that security came hope. Revenge. If Teyvat could fall beneath their feet, could they consider that an equal? An eye for an eye? To watch Celestia crumble into dust and nothingness as Khaenriah once did...that would make them very happy.

Crevaise stood. He tucked an apple into his cardigan's pocket, pushed the fruit bowl back to its original position, and left the room.

He aimlessly wandered the halls of Zapolarnay Palace, hands in pockets, mind adrift. Da Xia and Chloe were scheduled to leave for Mondstadt in the evening, and the Zapolarnay Palace was alive and buzzing, mercenaries rushing back and forth. The other Harbingers steeled themselves for the onslaught of chaotic news that would ensue their arrival. Crevaise did not care for such, though he had saved the finances for purchasing the first Snezhnayan newspaper he came across.

He passed the archery room en-route to their abode. The door was closed, as it always was. Probably locked. Crevaise had been in there once, and only once, when he had first entered the Zapolarnay Palace and did not know his way around.

He had run into Osore, all smiles and jokes, who had demonstrated how to wield an arrow with profound accuracy.

When Crevaise had bent down to pick up his ammunition, though, he swore he had seen Osore above him, a shadowed beast of a man, poised to bludgeon him with something dark and heavy.

"You're weak as ever, did you know that?"

Crevaise stopped in his tracks. Befitting words for his memory they may be, but those words were not a product of his imagination.

"Get off of me, Osore, get OFF!"

A shout - breaking at the edges like thin glass. It sounded like pain, death, fear itself.

It sounded like Scapino.

When this occurred to Crevaise, a great number of other thoughts came to him, like a snowball gathering speed as it hurtles down a mountain. Osore was in there with Scapino. Osore had hurt him last time, badly, and he had come to finish the job.

Finish the job. Finish the job. Scapino was going to die in there, bloody and bruised and beaten, if Crevaise didn't do something.

But what could he do? Though he had wandered the earth for hundreds of years, Crevaise still had the body of a fourteen-year-old. Could he stand his own against the 3rd Fatui Harbinger?

He imagined Scapino in the mountain, illuminated by the moon, stroking his hair and comforting him after another nightmare. Scapino didn't even know what had happened, but cared enough to sit with him and hold him close until the fear passed.

Like a father. Like the father Crevaise had, who was torn away from him in the early stages of the Cataclysm.

"What's wrong, Savva? Not so brave now, are we? Maybe if I do this -" a dull blow, followed by feverish gasping and coughing - "you'll come to your senses?"

Senselessness, recklessness, desperation. The mere thought of Mayuko leaning over Scapino's dying frame was more than enough motive for Crevaise to practically slam his weight against the door, breaking the lock into fine splinters of wood and almost shattering the stained glass, hardly prepared for the sight before him.

Oh, and what a sight it was.

"No, no, NO! I TOLD YOU! I want Sunsettia Red, not Bulle Fruit Red! There's a clear difference, you blind fool!"

In a fit of rage, Miss Chloe Monet threw the lipgloss across the room, streaking the wall with red. "Come back with some SENSE!"

The poor mercenary holding her lipgloss set recoiled at her words like a scorned pet. "With utmost respect, my Lady, I couldn't find Sunsettia Red. Here, I even brought your collection to show you. Are you sure you haven't used it all?"

Chloe's mouth twisted into a grimace. "If I had used up the most expensive lip gloss shade I own, I would've known. So no, I didn't use it all up, and yes, if you go back to my room and look again, this time with your eyes open, I'm sure you'll have a breakthrough. Now GO!"

Da Xia, perched comfortably on one of her suitcases, chewed on her bottom lip as she watched the servant scuttle away. "Dearest me, Chloe. How rude! All of that scorn over a simple product?"

"Don't act like a hero, Xia," Chloe spat. "It's not like you even know what lip gloss is. God knows you could use some, Miss Know-It-All."

"Please." She leapt from her suitcase and landed neatly on her feet. "Sunsettia Red doesn't even look good on you. It's like you rubbed tomato on your lips and called it a day. It's far too bright for your complexion. I can see you coming from a mile away with it on. Seriously, you'd be better off with a tame shade, like, I dunno, Hilichurl Brown? Mitachurl-Shield Grey? Sludge Purple?"

"Shut up, you leech. I can't believe I have to go on a trip with the likes of you."

"Oh, and I'm just thrilled to be here too, Chloe. Really, this brightens up my week. I could be basking on the plains of Liyue, or cruising the volcanoes of Natlan, but no. I'm here, packing for a trip with a selfish, spoiled little—"

"If you two are quite done arguing, we need to go over the schedule."

The following chill that swept through the room marked the presence of Erik, draped in rich black and blue. Behind him was Mingxia, holding a clipboard and a thick folder.

With a moan, Da Xia fell back onto her suitcase, fanning herself with her hand. "Whyyyy? We did this yesterday, and Friday, and Thursday, too! What more is there to go over!"

"What I doubt you understand, Da Xia," said Erik, advancing closer, "is that the fate of our mission lies solely on you and Chloe."

"Does it, now? Because I think that this plan of yours is STUPID and FLAWED. Remind me, what was your plan to overcome the Anemo Archon? Stuff him with wine and lock him in a cabinet?"

"The Anemo Archon will be efficiently subdued once we have a hold of his Gnosis—"

"Right, which will 'seal away' all of his powers and leave him weak and defenseless? Are you serious?"

"Without a Gnosis, archons are notably less powerful. They lose their resonance with Celestia above, which you'd know if you attended meetings. Once the Anemo Archon loses his connection, I'm confident that you and Chloe here, along with the soldiers at the Hotel, have the resources to —"

"Ok, ok, don't leave me out!" Chloe stood to her feet, arms firm across her chest. "I attend all of the meetings, so where's my prize?"

"You don't get a prize, you dolt! The meetings are useless! Even if we get rid of Mondstadt, which we won't, how is Liyue going to go about their business unaware that their neighboring nation is gone?! Do you think they'll just turn a blind eye?? Or wait to be next?"

Mingxia took a step forward. "The key part of our plan was to use Aren, who I'm sure you're familiar with, to utilize his telepathic abilities and effectively 'brainsweep' Teyvat."

"That won't work on Archons or Gods." Da Xia was scowling.

"Yes, but it'll work on the people. And they outnumber Teyvat's deities by a considerable degree. We stage revolutions in every nation, and the Archons are left with a choice to either slaughter their people in defence of their nation, or let the people be their end. You do remember what happened to Havria, God of Salt, correct?"

"Slaughtered by her people. Yeah, I know. Need I remind you that this plan won't work if Aren isn't even here? God knows where he is!"

"On the contrary," Mingxia's voice was a tad icier now, "Lord Osore has concluded that Aren resides somewhere between Mondstadt and Liyue. If all goes to plan, he will be found before The Void is put into place, which will significantly reduce the workload you find upon your shoulders."

"The Void..." Chloe mumbled. "Hey, did you end up choosing who did it? Was it the girl I chose?"

"No."

"Oh well," she sat back, seemingly withdrawing herself from the conversation. "That's that."

"As I was saying, if Aren is found soon, we can forgo the attack upon Liyue and Inazuma and proceed accordingly with our former plans. We will consider Mondstadt to be a 'taster nation', if you will."

"If that is all, Mingxia, then you are dismissed. Thank you for your time." Erik stood from his seat, abyssal black billowing from his long coat. He watched Mingxia leave with unreadable eyes, then turned to face Chloe and Da Xia with a sense of eerie solemnity.

"I'm sure you both understand the importance of locating the telepath. His very presence, willing or not, depends on the success of our mission. I want him located as soon as possible, by all means necessary. Monet," dark eyes focused on Chloe, who steeled in her seat, "if I catch wind of you abandoning your duty in favour of Mondstadtian cuisine and fashion, may you know now that there will be a price to pay when you return."

"And Da Xia, I trust you will keep Chloe in line during your stay."

"You know it, boss." Finger guns were sent his way, reciprocated unenthusiastically with a nod.

--------------------

"Destroying a nation as a science experiment," Dahigo mumbled to herself. "What a bunch of sickos."

In her hand, she clutched a frayed, aged book that held the smell of expensive Khaenrian perfume. Old, obviously, and not in production anymore. The pages of the book were frayed, the ink bygone and fading into the paper, but it was just legible enough to inform Dahigo about the so-called 'Art of Khemiah'. Krone hadn't noticed its disappearance — not yet, at least, — and Dahigo simply couldn't help but wonder what else she could pilfer from the Khaenrian's room without their knowledge.

Granted, she hadn't actually stolen it herself — she had delegated the task to one of the junior mercenaries about two weeks ago, and the poor soul still trembled around her, as if wondering what they would be asked to steal next. A hairbrush, maybe? A weapon? A vision?

Someday, yes. Dahigo had plans to go bigger, to go higher, to surpass even the Tsaritsa herself. But now was not the-

"Spacing out again, Dango? We should get going. Erik's gonna come out soon, and he won't be too happy to see us, or that little thing in your hands."

Trust Kuma to ruin the fun. Perhaps if Dahigo had been slightly more careful when choosing the person to steal Krone's book. Kuma had seen the servant slip into Krone's bedroom and had waited behind the door for them to leave. The servant had practically wet themself in utter terror, and in a fit of unbridled panic had spilled the beans about Dahigo's orders.

Surprisingly, however, Kuma had gone along with Dahigo's dastardly plan without many questions. Which was strange, seeing as Kuma and Dahigo had very little in common, but they both seemed to share one idea — forcing a child into the position of a telepathic war machine was not a cool idea. She signed herself up to help Dahigo with whatever goal she had in mind (unaware of the more power-hungry part of it, however) and proved to be quite useful at times. And besides, she turned out to be a good person to go to for a quick snack break.

"Thanks for the advice, but I know what I'm doing. I want to hear everything they're saying."

Kuma, crouched on the floor, took an obnoxiously loud bite out of the candy bar in her hand. "What more do you need to know? Aren's somewhere between Mondstadt and Liyue, probably, Mondstadt's basically a test subject, and if they find Aren before they use The Void, they won't have to go through the trouble of keeping the chaos from Liyue. They'll just brainwash the entire nation to go about their day like nothing happened! And the archon's out of commission, which is really unlucky. No one to help poor, poor, Mondstadt..."

"I don't give a shit about Mondstadt," Dahigo hissed. She was already packing up her bag and stuffing Krone's book into it. "What I care about is where Aren is before Chloe and Xia get their filthy hands on him."

"You know what I think?"

"Do I want to?"

"We won't be able to find him in Mondstadt without crossing paths with the others. And we have no real reason to be there, so we'll look out of place. One thing will lead to another, and we'll be accused of treason 'n shoved before the Tsaritsa's throne before you can say 'I told you so.'"

"What's your point?"

"My point is that we wait. We go to Liyue and wait for Aren there. The chances of him being on his own are slim because he's not Mondstadtian and probably doesn't know his way around. The Knights are probably helping him. And if he is by himself, we both know that he'll know if someone's looking for him, which will spur him to start relocating somewhere else. And where's the first place he can go to? Liyue."

"So we wait him out? Until he realizes that Chloe and Xia are looking for him?"

"Bingo, Dango."

Dahigo slung her bag over her shoulder and began to walk. Kuma ambled after her, finishing off the snack in her hand.

"That's a cute idea, but what if the others get to him first? Then what?"

"Oh, don't you worry your pretty little head about that. I've got eyes and ears in every inch of Mondstadt. If Aren's been located, we'll know, and we'll do something about it before the others can bring him back."

Kuma made a solid point, which irritated Dahigo more than anything. She was supposed to be the smart one with the good plan, and Kuma was supposed to be the sidekick-slash-bodyguard. Whenever Kuma made valid arguments, it felt...weird. Kuma had never been one to contribute much in meetings, so seeing her bring up pre-meditated points felt unnatural, like seeing a mitachurl use cutlery.

"OK, fine. But stop calling me Dango."

"Why? You're just so sweet. Like sugar and Bulle Fruit and abyssal sludge."