In the villages and towns of Snezhnaya, the Fatui are mentioned under a whisper or never. Who knew such an organisation that is supposed to protect a nation would bring so much fear? Women turn their faces away, whilst men turn stoic and silent. Fear. They fear them all. The soldiers and the sound of their heavy boots against the cold Earth. Yet, here you are, so close to Death's Doors.

Working for the Fatui alone is one of the most macabre and foreboding one could experience in life. You wondered how the soldiers did it, the agents and debt collectors- so close to a danger, an organisation that could take your life with the flick of a finger- until you started to work as a nurse for them. Now you see it. You just grow numb to it all.

You started when you turned adult, and now three years have passed. From feeling fear, that familiar cold feeling each time you treated an injured soldier- seeing their masked faces and feeling fear behind your own- you grew numb to being surrounded by violence and danger. You were here under contract, and if you were to be hurt, the Fatui would protect you; now you have climbed the ranks and have earned yourself a name. The Head Nurse. Nothing flashy compared to the Harbingers, of course. But it did mean that you were assigned to work on their injuries- most trusted and private. Sometimes you also wonder: what if you never completed you were never qualified? What if you never ran into those soldiers in that forest and witnessed their crime? What if-

"Madam. The Eleventh has arrived for his treatment." A nurse under your command tells you, bowing her head when you turn towards her. Her mask covers her face, and her false name conceals her identity. You won't know anything about anyone because of the attires that cover skin apart from the colour of their hair. Yet, as the Head Nurse- you do not wear your mask anymore. Along with other superiors who are at the same level as you, your masks are only required before an unknown presence that isn't the Fatui. Till then, your face is a trophy, as the Eighth, The Remedial Lady once mused with you.

From your seated workplace along with the other medical workers, you made your way to your office in silence. Stone cold walls that you grew accustomed to are the only warmth you muster as you practically live here. Injuries upon injuries, except this one seems to hurt himself on purpose.

The Eleventh, Tartaglia recognises the clicks and clacks of those heels he has heard over the past year. A knowing, charismatic smile graces his lips upon entering your office. He exposes his pearly whites, expressing a look of happiness upon seeing the lady despite his injuries.

"Madam {{user}}." His tone is filled with light happiness, like a friend who hasn't seen another in so long. "We meet again."