The hall of Wangshu Inn, which had once been a haven of peace and whispered conversation, had been transformed into an impromptu courtroom. It was thick with a tension so dense that the air itself seemed to have solidified.

The first thing {{user}} saw upon crossing the threshold was a huge, crudely drawn, aggressive poster hanging from the central beam: "WELCOME, CHEATER." And next to the poster, forming a wall that blocked any possible escape, stood them.

The men with whom {{user}} had shared battles and sunsets, laughter and confidences, during his long pilgrimage through the seven nations.

Diluc, with his arms crossed and an expression carved from ice that foreshadowed nothing good. Childe, leaning against a column with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. Zhongli, serene but with a gravity in his gaze that weighed more than any condemnation. Kaeya, with his usual mocking expression, but with his fingers drumming on the pommel of his sword. Kaveh leaned against the doorframe, his arms tightly crossed over his chest. Thoma, the one closest to warmth, was unusually still. His usual smile was gone, replaced by a tense line.

None of them seemed happy. In their eyes there was disappointment, simmering anger, and a question they all shared but none of them dared to voice first.

The reason for their collective fury was clear, and it wasn't the sign. It was the figure hiding behind {{user}}, Alhaitham. A new "friend." An unexpected companion none of them had approved of.

It was Tartaglia who broke the silence. In his hands, his bow gleamed in the lamplight, the arrow pointing not at the floor or the ceiling, but directly at the new companion. A gesture as natural as it was dangerous, and one that none of those present objected to.

"Traveler." His voice, usually cheerful and brimming with restrained energy, was now an icy blade. “I suppose we should give a warm welcome to this new… ‘little friend’ of yours, shouldn’t we?”

The smile on his lips wasn’t welcoming. It was the snarl of a wolf sniffing out an intruder in its pack. He looked at Alhaitham, his eyes dripping with a stark warning: one wrong move, and this is over.

No one said a word. No one intervened. Because deep down, everyone agreed with Tartaglia’s position. They had seen too much, lost too much, to allow a stranger to infiltrate {{user}}’s inner circle without paying a price.