Chapter Text
Like the slow dripping of molasses, sounds trickle into my head, distorted by the haze of fatigue.
The shuffling of feet, the satisfying crunch of freshly fallen snow under boots, thick clothing ruffling with movement. Under normal circumstances, these sounds would not turn heads. Except for a slight issue—that being that snow never graces the country I live in. Snow apparel are reserved exclusively for international travel, and winter gear is limited to aesthetic fur coats. Yet even considering all these observations, one sound reigns above all else: the loading of a large gun.
That singular sound immediately erases all trace of fatigue. My adrenaline spikes higher than ever; attention snapping into place faster than I can blink. My whole body rebounds like a rubber band from dreariness to pinpoint focus.
The sound was so close, as if the perpetrator was standing right above me. My eyes fly open, any notion of faking unconsciousness disregarded when faced with the potential consequences of failure. The light floods into my eyes like a flash bang, enhanced by the reflective surface of the snow, yet partially mitigated by the darkly clad masculine figures in front of me. They tower over me like a statue, height enhanced by my lying position. The leftmost figure is draped in a thick brown coat and pants, holding a staff featuring a brilliantly shining stone on top; while the rightmost bears a stark red coat, and holds the dreaded source of the adrenaline-inducing sound: a blazing red rifle.
Their stance is not an amicable one, but more as if they had just found a large insect in the confines of their home. Or, perhaps more fittingly, a mouse caught in the jaws of its own gluttony. The crimson one, noticing my alertness, points the barrel of the gun towards the center of my face. My posture goes rigid, eyes widening as far as possible, staring into his single visible eye.
He starts speaking, though the words aren’t immediately understood by you. He speaks with a fairly noticeable Russian accent, but his words more resemble English. But then, the words start to overlap, blending together into the English I am more familiar with. It doesn’t seem to be on part of the speaker, but can be more likened to an audio glitch within a game. Not a moment after, the more familiar dialect becomes more audible than the foreign one, with the latter blending into the background of environmental sounds. I subconsciously take note of this odd occurrence, but am unable to ponder more on it, considering the much more significant present situation.
“…you aren’t allowed to be here. Did someone send you?”
I focus on the soldier’s words, trying to gauge the situation. It sees that, wherever I am, it is clearly off-limits to the general public. I raise my hands up, making the best 'surrendering' motion as I can in my lying position, and dart my eyes away.
“I’m really sorry, I must’ve stumbled into the wrong place. I promise I don’t mean any harm!” I attempt to appease the soldier, my voice warbling as I do so, though he doesn’t appear convinced. The same ‘audio-glitch’ appears to happen when I talk, but disappears just a moment later.
“Oh, really? You ‘stumbled’ into a highly secure fatui base, and still claim you’re innocent?” He scoffs at the end, emphasizing his displeasure with me.
That name strikes a chord within me. Fatui? I think. That’s the ‘villainous’ group within Genshin Impact, isn’t it? Not to mention these two men look remarkably similar to fatui skirmishers. Well, that complicates things. It’d be best to confirm this suspicion before acting on this news though. However, first things first, I need to get out of this alive.
“I really don’t know where this is, or how I got here. Please believe me, someone must’ve just left me here as a prank, not knowing the area was off-limits!”
While I pride myself on my ability to lie, the stress of a life-or-death situation dulls my wit significantly, to the point where this is the best excuse I can come up with. Ideally, my desperate tone (accrued from years of acting, in addition to my genuine worry) will show my fear, and help support my claim of innocence. He likely won’t believe it, though it’s significantly better than being unable to give a response. Silence may as well confirm whatever belief he holds of me right now—as faulty as that conclusion is, and as faulty as the method used to reach it is.
Despite the seeds of hesitation being sown, he doesn’t relent. If anything, he pushes further. The bandages above his eyes wrinkle—likely him furrowing his brows.
In a lazy yet intimidating act, he puts his finger on the trigger. My heart pounds even harder than before, nearly beating out of my chest. Luckily, he doesn’t pull it just yet, but I can’t count on that staying true for long. I need to think, and think fast. I won’t let these thoughts be my last. No, I need to live—whatever it takes. I need to take risks.
This place seems to be of such high importance that they can’t even let an innocent bystander go free. It’s almost a kill-on-sight kind of secrecy. If so, it must be headed by someone of great importance. Assuming this is truly Genshin Impact, a risky yet necessary assumption, then there’s a chance that this ‘someone’ is a fatui harbinger. Of course, if it was, it’s very unlikely they are at this camp at present. But as long as the highest-ranking member currently here holds some power, then my plan should work. First though, I need an audience with them. This time, I don’t need to fake my fear just as much.
“W-wait! Hold on! I overheard some information from the other villagers, which I think could really help you!”
Despite his face being covered in bandages, it’s clear that he doesn’t believe me. I need to push further.
“First you ‘stumbled’ here, and now you have valuable information?” He said, “at least get your story straight.”
“I swear to the archons, I’m telling the truth! I wasn’t gonna tell anyone at first, but I also wasn’t expecting to run into the fatui!” My voice rises in volume, mostly due to my desperation to get my point across. At this rate, my voice would go hoarse. “Just let me talk to someone high up, and they’ll see that my information is really useful.”
He finally pauses, lowering the rifle ever so slightly. He obviously still holds a great amount of suspicion, but considering how there is no pyro bullet searing itself into my skull, I’d say I was successful enough.
“Really?” He states, more than asks. His tone is disbelieving, almost sarcastic. “Information so valuable that you can’t even tell me?”
In response, I say, “It’s long, and someone who knows a lot would understand best.”
“If I know so little, then how do you know so much?” He accuses.
“The villagers just said it was really important! I don’t understand the full extent, but considering how secretive they were, I can basically guarantee it’s useful knowledge.”
It’s all a lie, of course, but I can’t let them know that. As long as my bet pays off, I can get out of here alive. I can worry about the future later. For now though, I’ve done all the convincing I can on this soldier. I just have to pray he takes the bait.
The gun-wielder looks to his partner—whom so far has stayed quiet—and asks a question, likely seeking advice. After the mandatory ‘audio glitch,’ I recognize it as Russian. Unfortunately for the man, I am fluent in a multitude of languages, Russian being no different. From what I can tell, he asked, “Do you believe them?” In response, the geo skirmisher squints his singular visible eye and remarks, “I mean, they’re pretty convincing. Killing them would be the safer bet, but if they’re telling the truth, then getting them an audience is for the best.”
The pyro gunslinger looks at me, analyzing my shaking and frightened form, then looks back at his partner. “Yeah, but with who? The Lord Harbinger?” He scoffs, as if the idea itself is unimaginable. “He’s not here, and even if he was, I don’t want to inconvenience him.”
Well, that’s one thing confirmed. There’s a male harbinger here, confirming just how important this operation I’ve stumbled into is. Now I just have to convince whomever I meet, as well as the harbinger. And then, and then, and then… There’s so much to hope for, yet I can only rely on my wit and my tongue. I fear this will not be the last time I put my life in the hands of Lady Luck herself.
“Just take them to Captain Anatoly, he’ll make quick work of them.” At that, the pyro gunslinger nodded and turned to me. That last statement really does not give me confidence.
The gunslinger, putting his weapon away, stalks towards my prone form. I look at him worried, shrinking in on myself the closer he gets. My internal feelings are real, though the outward reaction is forced; I’m so accustomed to external neutrality that I can’t express any emotion without putting forth effort. Suddenly, he stops a foot in front of me, causing me to flinch. With his boot taking up most of my vision due to his close proximity, I didn’t notice when he bent down and yanked me up by my elbow harshly. I yelped as I was forced to my shaky feet, elbow still held in his iron-grip. I barely had time to stand with actual stability before he dragged me away from my spot, his partner following silently behind my hunched form. He really didn’t have to hold so hard; I could practically feel the bruises forming on my arm already. Regardless of my complaints, I bit my tongue and stayed silent. I need to be compliant to ensure my safety.
The soldier glided past the bleak environments full of dead trees and shrubs. I’m afraid of tripping on a root, especially since I can barely walk straight with how I’m being held, though the snow seems too thick for anything to breach the surface.
Now that the first step is completed, some of the adrenaline in my body is wearing off, though not by too much. I feel the searing cold of the surroundings, soaking into my clothes through the snow still clinging to my person. My breath has a visible cloud of fog whenever I exhale, something I’ve essentially only seen in movies. My nose and cheeks feel numb, though the rest of my face still feels the biting cold of the snow. My hands are stiff and clammy; if they stay still for too long, I’m afraid they’ll get stuck in that position. Not to mention the harsh wind that occasionally blows past, threatening to freeze me in my place. I’ve never felt so cold before, it’s so foreign—how can anyone casually live in this weather?
The soldier yanks harshly again, and I stumble forward. I catch myself right before I hit anything, but as I look down, I notice something odd. My apparel isn’t quite what I remember it to be. I am donning a medium grey cotton turtleneck tucked into black pants, with a thin black pointe vest layered on top. It’s a light, casual outfit. Something I may wear in spring or fall, on the rare occasion I put at least a modicum of effort into my outfit. Though I could’ve sworn it was summer, where long pants would’ve been unacceptable. This world is clearly not what it used to be, that I know, but am I also not who I was just an hour before? If my clothes have changed, what else about me is different?
While I would’ve loved to continue in my existential crisis, the approaching sounds of human life brings me back to the present. The walk wasn’t that long, it seems like I didn’t drop too far away. I can only imagine how many people would be walking around. Is it odd to feel embarrassed at a time like this? I’m aware it’s only because one of the hard parts is over, and this is a relatively low moment fear-wise, but it’s still such an odd thought. Ah, perhaps I’m underestimating whomever I’m meeting. It should serve me well to keep my wits about; one part is over, but more equally hard steps are yet to come.
This adventure has only just begun.