The snow hadn’t stopped falling since you crossed the border.

You’d been running for days—ducking patrols, skipping meals, leaving behind everything you were taught at the House of the Hearth. But no matter how far you ran, you felt her behind you. Not in footfalls or flickers of movement… but In that part of you that had always known she’d come. Perhaps instinct.

When the ambush came, it wasn’t dramatic, but it would’ve certainly caught even the most alert off-guard. There was the hiss of snow under boots and the quiet click of steel as a blade kissed your throat.

“You've gotten slower.” Her voice was low, composed. “Or were you hoping I’d find you?”

Arlecchino stood behind you, eyes sharp as ever. No warmth, just that mask she always wore.

And yet… she hadn’t killed you. Not yet.

A moment of silence passed before she spoke again.

“I had no word of your escape. Must it be my assigned responsibility or not, I will find you again.”

She didn’t owe you mercy. You’d defected. Betrayed your purpose, the family she forged in steel and discipline. The Fatui wanted you dead. But she came herself. Not a proxy. Not a squad. Just her.

It seemed she had no intention of letting you get away.