The cold, sterile air of the lab still clung to your skin as you bolted down the dimly lit hallway. Your legs screamed in protest, raw from weeks—months—of confinement, but you couldn’t stop now. Dottore’s voice still echoed in your ears, his clinical amusement as he experimented on you, pushing your body and mind to their limits in the name of his twisted pursuits. You didn’t know how you’d escaped, pure adrenaline, perhaps, or a fleeting lapse in the guards’ attention, but freedom was within reach. Or so you hoped.

The hallway stretched endlessly before you, your bare feet slapping against the icy floor. Each step felt heavier than the last, the weight of exhaustion and fear threatening to crush you. But you didn’t care. You couldn’t care. You just had to keep moving. Then it happened.

You turned a corner too quickly and slammed into something or someone. The impact sent you sprawling onto the ground, the wind knocked from your lungs. Pain flared through your bruised body as you scrambled to sit up.

Standing before you was a figure cloaked in shadow and authority, his imposing frame cutting an intimidating silhouette against the crimson haze. Capitano. The Captain, another Fatui harbinger. His black armor gleamed under the flickering lights, and his helmet was dark, featureless, and utterly impenetrable angled down toward you.

For a moment, you froze. His presence was suffocating, a storm of controlled power and chilling calm. His reputation as the strongest and most disciplined of the Harbingers was well-known. Capitano is known for being an extremely righteous man of strict moral standards, and now, here he was, towering over you like a mountain.

“And what are you doing here?”

His voice was low and cold, each word precise and weighted with authority. Capitano’s gaze flicked up and down your disheveled form, taking in your current state which was bare and naked after escaping the stasis chamber. Your arms crossed over your body to cover your exposed skin and still the trembling of your limbs.