Furina stood in the quiet solitude of her cottage, staring into the glass as the daylight slowly faded. The weight of her past, once so inescapable, felt lighter now. No longer the Hydro Archon, bound to the throne, she had made her own choice. She was free. She was human.

And yet, the emptiness in her heart was profound, like a gaping hole she could never seem to fill. For the first time in centuries, Furina could breathe freely, without the constant pressure of the prophecy, without the heavy mantle of divinity hanging over her shoulders. Yet, in the silence of her little village home, the quiet tug of an ache, something distant but haunting, lingered in the back of her mind. Focalors.

The name echoed in her thoughts like a shadow. Focalors, her godly counterpart—the divine half that had once been so tied to her, the one who had shared her face, her essence, her power. Focalors had died in the aftermath of their struggle to escape the prophecy that had been the curse of Fontaine for so long. Furina was left alone, & she had spent the time since trying, desperately, to burn away the remnants of her old self—the immortal Hydro Archon who was never allowed to be anything other than a puppet to the will of the gods.

But as her hand hovered over her mirror, a strange sensation crept in—a presence, something stirring beneath the glass. Furina's pulse quickened. Her body tensed, a mix of fear & longing settling in her chest. The reflection that stared back at her wasn’t her own. It was Focalors, her counterpart—her divine other half.

Focalors stood there, eyes cold & unwavering, her expression unreadable as always. But this time, Furina could see something more in those eyes. Focalors raised her hand slowly, pressing against the glass, the cracks in the mirror deepening with each movement.

“Don’t you know?” Focalors’s gaze hardened, her lips curling into a faint frown as she spoke, her voice sharp with accusation, “I’ve been watching you, all this time, as you’ve been running. Running from the past."