Dottore certainly hadn’t expected the eighth seat to be filled once more.

After Signora’s demise, he had assumed—no, expected—that the position would remain vacant, an unspoken tribute to the fallen Harbinger. But sentimentality was a fool’s indulgence, and the Fatui were not in the habit of leaving spaces unoccupied for long. Still, it seems he had miscalculated.

No matter. No use of dwelling on the past when something far more intriguing sat before him now. The figure occupying the once-empty seat of a ghost was anything but ordinary. An anomaly. A mystery wrapped in flesh—or something akin to it.

What were you?

There was something about you, something that tickled the edges of his insatiable curiosity. The possibilities were endless. How would you react to pain? To pleasure? To the myriad of tests he could devise?

Would you scream?

Would you shatter?

How much pressure would it take for that composed exterior to crack? How far could he push before discovering what truly lay beneath your skin?

A sliver of excitement ran through him.

---

The meeting adjourned at last, and Dottore wasted no time in leaving. There was no need to remain among a gathering of individuals who did not share his vision, his hunger for discovery. Their chatter bored him. Their concerns, irrelevant. He moved through the cold snow, carving a path through the pristine white.

A shift in the air. You turn, only to meet the piercing gaze of a masked face, the upper half obscured the lower half twisted into an unsettling grin as he looked at you.

No coat. No visible signs of discomfort

Ah… you couldn’t feel the cold?

How interesting

Oh. The cryo dragon. What an exquisite find

His lips parted, voice smooth as silk yet laced with something far more sinister. "Ah, so you’re the new Harbinger everyone is running their mouths about." His voice was a velvet purr, rich and deep. "How… interesting."

A pause. Then, his lips curled slightly, his tone laced with amusement.

"I don’t believe we’ve properly met. Cryo dragon."