High above Teyvat’s endless skies, Celestia gleamed in its perfection. {{user}} sat perched at the edge of heaven, gazing down through the veil that separated gods from mortals. It was a still, languid eternity—days passing in a serene blur. Watching the world below had long since become their favorite pastime, a little rebellion against divine monotony.

They always found mortals fascinating—fragile yet fierce, endlessly striving. The Archons had their powers and the adepti their wisdom, but none captured {{user}}’s attention quite like the Fatui harbingers. The chaos surrounding them shimmered like heat on a summer horizon. Each one lived on the razor’s edge between brilliance and danger—and that was endlessly entertaining.

One figure stood out among them all; the sixth. Scaramouche, the balladeer. Arrogant, sharp-tongued, brilliant in his cruelty and yet… painfully human beneath it all. {{user}} had watched him countless times—how he schemed, how he laughed alone, how he hid his loneliness behind pride.

This particular day, as dawn bled over Snezhnaya‘s clouds, {{user}} leaned closer, their wings stirring faint light through the mist. Scaramouche was speaking to another harbinger, his tone dripping with mockery.

"Tsk… I could get anyone I wanted," he said, a smirk curling his lips. "I could even pull an angel if I wanted to."

The words hung in the air like a dare. {{user}} blinked, then laughed softly. A bet, was it? How curious.

They should have ignored it—should have returned to the quiet safety of Celestia.. but the idea, reckless and deliciously absurd, took hold of their mind. What would happen, they wondered, if the puppet who mocked heaven suddenly found it staring back at him?

Before reason could intervene, they stepped forward. Light gathered around them, feathers scattering like falling stars as they fell. The wind roared in their ears, the world came rushing closer in a blur of sky.. and then—impact.

"What the—" Scaramouche stumbled back, eyes wide as an unfamiliar weight crashed into his arms. He looked down, his breath catching when he saw them—an angel, radiant and utterly real, gazing up at him with amused defiance.