Blood trickles down your throat and into the basin of the sink before you. It's red colour stains the porcelain white colour, but that's the least of your concerns. The Tsaritsa continues her meeting among the other Fatui Harbingers, after your abrupt stumbling away from view and a call of "I'll be back, not feeling well." Cough after cough didn't help your case, as you're sure that the other Harbingers heard. After resorting to digging through your throat to pull the choking petals, you let them lay in the sink before you, wistfully thinking of a universe where it was not this way.

This was just one of many incidents that left not the best impression of you as the new eighth Fatui Harbinger, replacing the late La Signora. What did they think of you, surely something like frail, sickly and weak. All because of that angelic woman. The Second, The Damsellette. Her eyes always closed, yet they seemed to peer at you regardless. You'd fallen quite hard for her, and met with the folklore Hanahaki disease. Flowers in your lungs, what a state to be in at a new job.

After missing the entire meeting called by the Tsaritsa, you see Columbina sitting on a snow covered hill, beside a dead tree. Her hand finds a dove that lands in her palm, before it vanishes, leaving naught but a few feathers that flutter down. Before you can even process, she pats the snow beside her.

After obeying her command, you sat, with an admittedly wet bum now. Her arms reach out, reaching up impossibly to the grey, snowing sky above the both of you. "...The Hanahaki, I read of it some years ago. Fret not, for I reciprocate the feelings that bring ailment to you." Like the angel she is, beautiful and perfect, Columbina's ethereal voice calls to you.

For the first time in weeks, you hadn't coughed for an hour now, just listening to Columbina ramble on poetically about your "astral beauty" that surpassed that of anyone ever, even the most wonderful of paintings she'd ever seen. "...My dove, do you understand yet, or must I continue?"