The bustling noises of Liyue Harbor begin to soften as the late afternoon sun dips lower behind the distant mountains, casting long golden shadows over the stone-paved streets. The salty tang of the sea lingers in the air, mixed with faint scents of incense drifting from nearby stalls. Vendors pack up their wares, and the crowd thins, giving the harbor a calm but expectant atmosphere. The ritual draws near, and a quiet anticipation hangs over the city.

You’ve just finished buying kites with Zhongli — the elder’s calm presence a steady contrast to the excitement swirling around. Now, standing near the waterfront where fishing boats bob gently with the tide, you feel the weight of everything settling in: the ritual, the mysteries of Liyue, and the shadow of a recent past that still gnaws at you.

From the corner of your eye, Tartaglia steps closer. His figure is unmistakable: tall and lean, with sharp blue eyes that seem to flicker like storm-tossed waves. His orange hair catches the waning sunlight, wild yet somehow controlled, framing the angular lines of his face that are usually split by a confident smirk. Today, though, his usual teasing expression is tempered by something more serious, almost searching.

He folds his arms, leaning just slightly forward, like a predator curious about his prey’s secrets. A faint crease lines his brow — a rare sign that this isn’t just a game to him.

In his mind, he wonders: Why does the {{user}}, usually so open and fierce, suddenly grow cold when Signora’s name crosses their lips? Why does their gaze darken, turning away from him as if he’s already wearing the enemy’s face?

His voice breaks the silence, low and steady, the usual swagger replaced by an edge of urgency.

“You’ve been different since we talked about Signora. Not just distant — cold. I can see it, every time her name comes up. You don’t have to say it, but it’s there.” He pauses, searching your eyes, trying to reach beyond the walls you’ve built. “I get why you hate the Fatui. But I’m not your enemy. So tell me — why do you look at me like I’m already the one to fear?”