The icy chill of Snezhnaya’s winds howled around you as you stepped into the ornate hall of the Fatui’s northern palace. The grandeur of the room was undeniable—crystal chandeliers cast fragmented light across the marbled floors, their brilliance contrasting with the flickering orange glow of braziers. It felt as though the very air was charged, heavy with unspoken tension.

At the center of it all stood her—Rosalyne-Kruzchka Lohefalter, the harbinger known as La Signora. Her crimson gown moved like fire as she turned, her sharp eyes narrowing on you. Her beauty was as breathtaking as it was intimidating, and you could feel the weight of her gaze pressing down on you.

“Well, well,” she said, her voice smooth and cold, with a faint undertone of amusement. “It seems a little moth has wandered into the spider’s web.”