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Amirah’s blank eyes stared right past the table Zandik lay on. He was unconscious, a new version of the serum currently battling for dominance in his veins. No one else was in the room. Bai Zhi had wanted to stay but she sent him away with 8. At least until she could fix this.
Slowly she stood up, leaving her vigil beside her father to walk into the rest of the lab. Her heels made a steady pace on the linoleum, an echoing, harrowing sound. She pushed past the door to the operating room and let it swing silently shut behind her.
Though she could not see them, before her stood the rest. 25, 35, 45, 65, and 18. She knew because she had ordered them to stand there and wait for her and after this… incident, even 35 knew better than to defy her.
She inhaled deeply through her nose, preparing herself.
“It is my understanding that Zandik was fine this morning,” she began, her voice slow and cold.
“When did that change?”
Silence for a moment, aside from slight shuffling from 45. Then, 65 spoke.
“35 was the only one in the room to notice the symptoms.”
35 was quick to retaliate with a violent curse, only to be interrupted by Amirah.
“Silence.”
She waited a moment longer despite the fact they all had quieted immediately.
“That was not my question. I am aware that 35 was working with Zandik this morning. My question was an inquiry of when the symptoms began. Not who witnessed it.”
A deep, rather annoyed sigh came from 45 before he said, “Approximately ten-thirty. 35 would know better.”
Again, a muttered curse responded.
“Thank you,” she replied, her tone as flat as when she began, “So why is it that the time is now three in the evening and I was not informed? Or Regrator?”
Finally, 35 decided to speak.
“He was dying.”
Her fingers twitched where they were clasped together in front of her.
“I see a misunderstanding has occurred. I do not care for what purpose he thinks all of you are useful. I do not care what you think of yourself or how inflated your ego is. You are not him and I will never see you as such. Therefore, when you speak to me you should keep in the forefront of those plastic fucking brains that you are not speaking among yourselves. You are speaking to an envoy of the Tsaritsa who is investigating the near death of one of Her Harbingers.”
She tilts her head up slightly, her usually closed eyes open and blazingly crimson. She knew how unsettling her blank stare was and she was using that now, even if its effect was somewhat lessened in present company.
“I will ask my question one more time,” she continues, “And it will be answered by one of you. Why was I not informed.”
She could hear 35 growling slightly, annoyed by her. She felt a tickle of pride.
“The elixir isn’t working right, I had a hypothesis that dissecting him would give us a breakthrough.”
The voice was again 35 but none of them spoke against his mindset. All guilty. All complicit.
“Where was 8?”
“Out of the room,” drawled 65, “We’re not complete monsters. I elected to send 18 as well but I quickly lost interest in the ensuing argument.”
I nod. That was likely truth.
“So you watched,” she said, tone carefully calm, “It was preventable.”
“It was,” mumbled 25.
I smile at the answer, a chillingly serene expression on my face.
“I see. In conduct with Snezhnayan law — quoting Article 27, section 8.4 — you are all complicit in attempted murder. Perhaps even murder if Zandik does not survive the night. Of course, under military law this would be waived.”
She tilts her head, eyes now closed in a picturesque version of a contended lady-in-waiting.
“Except, the victim in question is one of Her Majesty’s Harbingers, in which the crime is considered to be an act punishable by tenfold of what the law recognizes. As Her Lady’s attendant, it is in my power to sentence every one of you to death.”
She pauses, letting the younger ones writhe for a moment, a sick satisfaction coiling in her chest.
“However, in recognition of the circumstances and your contributions to the Fatui, She will grant leniency.”
35 scoffed, snarling at her, “Quit with the ‘her majesty’ shit you obviously just hate us.”
“That is true,” I respond smoothly, “I have never hid that. However my orders do indeed come from Her. To quote Her Majesty during our meeting: ‘Suitable punishment will be levied upon responsible parties, should there be any, as dictated by the qualified investigator.’
“The investigator in this case is me. As such 18, 25, 45, and 65 will be placed upon suspension of activity in the current workplace and sent to start up facilities in different parts of Teyvat.
“18 you are being sent to Mondstadt to oversee the creation of Hearsay’s. 25 you are bid to Liyue, there is an abandoned ruin machine lab to be cleaned up. 45 you will go to Fontaine. I do not have the full details of your mission just yet but Regrator is currently compiling a file. 65, there is research opportunities in Natlan regarding ancient technology. See to it.”
“And me?” 35 sighed, clearly enraged.
I smile serendipitously.
“As it is there are no further facilities available for management, 35 will receive corporal punishment for his criminal hypothesis and remain on suspended leave in Snezhnaya for a total of ten years.”
Silence. Then, outrage.
“Excuse me?”
“It is the estimated minimum timeframe the rest are expected to be gone.”
She heard his metal boots on the floor as he stalked closer. His usually lazy stride quickened with rage.
“You think you have the authority, or even ability, to inflict ‘corporal punishment’ upon this shell?” he sneers, his face mere inches from hers. She can feel his breath on her cheek and she resolves to bathe twice later.
“Yes,” She responds simply, unmoved by his attempt at intimidation.
“I will sooner kill you.”
Amirah smiles, her head tilting to the side.
“I truly would enjoy your attempt. In the meantime, until preparations can be made to send you all out, you are hereby expelled from this lab.”
35 snarled, pure contempt in his voice as he pressed his forearm over her chest and shoved her back against the wall.
“Release me,” she commanded, giving him one chance.
“You are a pompous, foolhardy woman if you think you have even a fraction of my power. You are blind, you are weak, you were a failure. I have no idea why he kept you but you should die along with- ghk!”
In a single movement Amirah has stuck a penknife through his throat. Sparks hit her cheeks as she pushed in, forcing him backwards. It would not kill him, but it would hurt.
“Perhaps I am not as powerful as the rest of you,” she says slowly, continuing to walk 35 back. The others part for them easily, allowing her to pin him to the wall opposite them.
“As for why he kept me, even I cannot say.”
She twists the knife, relishing in the choked sound it draws out.
“But I can tell you that while you are the absolute worst of him, I am the best of him. You are the incarnation of every mistake he’s made, the full scope of his hatred. I know why you left him. Because he hates you, and you hate him. You are the very essence of the part of him I find unlovable. Your grievance with me is not because of my position or even my fragility. It is because he kept me out of love and he keeps you out of contempt.”
She pulls the knife from his throat, turning on her heel as she pockets it.
“I have never agreed with his will to keep you all,” she says, heels clicking a steady rhythm to the door, “Unfortunately it is not my decision, or within my power to decommission you. Regardless, I can make your lives hell.”
She turns her head over her shoulder, just enough for the light blue locks resting over her shoulder to slip to her back.
“You are not him. You are fragments of hatred. Your inability to love will be your deaths.”
She leaves, slamming the door behind her.