Fischl's day just kept getting better.
After the OSF joined their party, they rendezvoused with Diluc, his runner having arrived to inform them of his position. He had news of the Fatui's movement, since a phenomenon of this magnitude wouldn't leave out Snezhnaya.
"The Fatui's been in contact with a Fischl look-alike, she's commanding them along with another Harbinger while they head towards us."
"Figures," the OSF added while she held up her binoculars, "I've been scouting the Fatui, they've been observing our progress from afar. Assume they're updating our doppelganger with our position to home in on us."
Fischl, joining the Fatui. Her mind reeled at the thought, yet a dark corner of her mind found the logic frustratingly impeccable. She was bullied for being the Prinzessin, and though she'd put those dark days behind her, what if the bullying intensified? What if it broke her enough to join a foreign power?
What if?
Those words plagued Fischl's mind, since it wasn't just her decisions which branched off into lives which remained a dream undreamed. Now, the infinite circumstances shaping Fischl's life began to cook her mind, and she had to shake off a chill at the scale of this multiverse. Of all that was and could ever be, from a soldier to an empress, Archon and now a Fatui member.
"Mein Fräulein, might discretion be the better part of valor in this case?" Oz made a good point, since the presence of the harbinger changed the equation. And the big unknown was how strong Fatui Fischl was, despite having the OSF on their side.
Venti chimed, "Haven't you heard this kind of story? The relentless pursuer, the increasingly desperate victim, and a final showdown. Instead of running, why not meet them head-on?"
Silence ensued, and Fischl burned under the realization everyone was waiting for her answer.
How did she do this again? "Nay, the threads of fate that bind the various Prinzessin pull us towards confrontation! May the Prinzessin and her expanding retinue engage pursuers upon favorable fields, for fortune favors the bold!" Fischl ignored how her voice warbled, her hand balling into a fist to hide her trembling fingers.
Eula bristled. "Wherever the Fatui poke their noses in, there shall be trouble. And I've yet to exact my vengeance upon them for consorting with the Lawrence Clan exiles!" Fischl was about to ask what that was about, but figured it had something to do with the Traveler.
Call it a hunch, but the boy had a knack for being in the eye of any storm.
Diluc nodded. "If you're going after the Fatui, count me in." His tone brooked no chance of refusal, not that they were going to deny a Vision wielder.
Fischl was about to say something, but attention was drawn by another of Diluc's runners approaching. The man's ragged pants were proportional to how urgent the news was, gathering his breath between sentences.
"Master Diluc, there's been another incident in Sumeru. News, not good." Diluc turned to the messenger, a wordless prompt for him to continue. "That flying ship's caused some kind of revolution across the nation, citizens are executing scholars in the streets. Worse, the Fatui have been sighted entering the country."
Mona blanched at the implication. "So the Kaiserin's working with the Fatui?"
"We don't know. Whatever they're up to, we can't follow them into the force field around Sumeru City."
Diluc shook his head. "Doesn't matter. The Fatui are headed here. We can regroup with the Traveler's team later to confront the Kaiserin." Fischl, again, wished to ask what Diluc's deal was with the Fatui, but the intuition which picked up his bitterness likewise warned her to leave the matter be.
"Then let us ride out to meet the agents of false darkness in high places, this Gegenspieler! Upon that fated battlefield shall forces of light and dark clash, may the Prinzessin's strength augur the victory of all that is good!" Fischl could feel Mona shaking her head behind her, more for their audience's benefit to get them to go along with this.
"What mein Fräulein means to say is, let us ride out and defeat the Fatui."
Oz's translation provided alacrity, though everyone's gaze had glinted at having gotten the gist behind her words. They weren't stupid, and under the circumstances Fischl's tone spoke all that needed to be said: the words themselves were supplemental.
Venti asked, "So where are the two Fatui agents now?"
Fischl gazed out at Qingce Valley on the opposing gorge, her mind reeling at the speed which they crossed all of Mondstat and Liyue. Diluc's money did the heavy lifting in this regard. When their transportation beasts tired, as they inevitably did, Diluc procured another with Mora straight out of his pocket. This was the lifestyle of a man unafraid to part with his Mora, a means of expediting essential affairs no matter the cost.
A twinge of jealousy shot through Fischl's heart as Mona preened in Diluc's direction, Must she be so lurid in her pursuit of a man that much older than her?! Fischl thought better of her court mage than to give in to such shameful lust!
Over yonder was a cliff, and beneath it, terraced paddy fields brimmed with color Fischl would appreciate under normal circumstances. But Qingce Valley was the Northernmost Liyue territory to meet the two Fatui agents.
And where the heck was the OSF?
She really wanted to trust in the veteran, but it drove a wedge in their team dynamic until she could understand what the veteran was playing at.
Waiting around as the OSF returned, they spotted a few Fatui runners in the distance keeping tabs on them. And perhaps it was how like called to like, but her doppelganger's approach was felt on a subconscious level. The two oncoming Fatui agents grew from mere pinpricks on the horizon to colorful figures on the road, their every step heavy with the promise of showdown.
She'd never get used to how exact doppelgangers looked. Identical faces molded by their unique experiences to be similar, uncannily so, yet worn by an entirely different person. This one's dress had that Mondstat flair, but her glare proved it was all decorative; the pain behind them was transmuted into fervor, devoting itself to another sovereign. This hollow shell was what Fischl could've been. Unlike the Kaiserin or OSF, the link between them translated into guilt on Fischl's part at having lived a better life. No matter how she shook those thoughts off, since the multiverse's infinitude made branches inevitable, it stung to see her doppelganger broken by pain, putting herself back in ways unrecognizable and irreparable.
The other Fatui agent waved. "Sup! You seem likely better company than Ms. Frumpy-Face over here! Wanna swap?"
"The name," her doppelganger snarled, "is La Strega. Thirteenth Harbinger of the Fatui, under the Tsaritsa's command to prune all my other selves!" The flair was there, but like a song played just out of tune.
The orange-haired Fatui winced, but eagerly drew his bow. "Number eleventh Harbinger, Childe, etcetera, etcetera. Let's skip the pleasantries and get to the part where I fight all of you."
Diluc stepped up with his claymore in hand. "You're not the one I'm looking for. But if you're a Fatui agent, you're on my list."
La Strega likewise armed herself. "My doppelganger is mine." Did she not have an Oz? Again, the implications struck Fischl cold.
Both Diluc and Childe faced off with eagerness of different sorts, but a bolt from the blue struck the battlefield between them. Both sides tensed, and Fischl's breath left her lungs.
The Raikou Shogun.
An Archon's arrival on the battlefield was a terrible and majestic affair, the power weaved into their existence registering as cold, unthinking terror. Hardly helping matters was the god's gaze registering nothing as a threat, and the weight of such immutable fact weighed on Fischl as she swallowed the lump in her throat.
The OSF sneered, "And whose side are you supposed to be on?"
Raikou's gaze swept over both sides, resting on La Strega while she summoned her bow.
"Not theirs. These seditious rats who dared subvert Inazuman sovereignty in this Teyvat shall be exterminated."
Could anything match the relief of having an Archon by their side?
"Oh, this keeps getting better and better!" Not that it helped matters any, as Childe smirked with all the glee of a child on their birthday. Strega rolled her eyes, but the battle hunger reflected in her gaze likewise looked forward to drawing blood.
Namely Fischl's, shivering under the Harbinger's glare.
Strangely enough, it was Diluc who struck first, his claymore coming down on Childe's head in an executioner's cleave. The Harbinger moved beyond Fischl's perception, dancing out from under his cleave to respond in kind.
From there, things devolved into a blur of Elemental Bursts. There was a curious brutality in Childe and Raikou's hand-to-hand despite wielding a bow, minimizing weaknesses through skill and experience in battle. And despite being outnumbered, Childe's exhilaration at facing Eula, Diluc and Raikou only grew with Strega's cover fire.
Fischl had Oz by her side, but their firepower was answered by La Strega summoning Pyro turrets with her not-Vision, for that thing defied the appearance of one. These turrets laid down firepower equivalent to the OSF's rifle, forcing Fischl to duck behind cover. The absurdity of being forced into cover ran against every grain of experience in Fischl's body, for the enemy was to be met head-on and attacks dodged. Yet the practical demands of combat forced Fischl to change her firing angle, taking tips from the OSF's peeking fire.
It became apparent neither Raikou, Strega nor Childe were going all-out. Teasing, dancing and feinting with the implicit desire not to show their hand too early. That knowledge bore on its heels a curious terror, one Fischl had to physically shake from her trembling fingers. For being near these monsters going all-out promised disaster sure to swallow Fischl whole.
And La Strega.
The Kaiserin's ire at least had the benefit of being a lofty condescension, but La Strega's glare telegraphed her vitriol towards Fischl. Such hatred formed a miasma which soured the Harbinger to her very soul, radiating as a killing intent whose harm came as a fantasized and inescapable promise.
She had to get closer.
It was this thread of morbid curiosity which moved Fischl to charge in, catching even La Strega off-guard as their bows slammed into each other.
"Why?!" She yelled at La Strega. "Hath the Prinzessin forgotten the sacred value of devotion to consort with and swear fealty to foreign powers?!" The treachery, as Fischl or Amy, hurt her on a level she hadn't known was possible, for Mondstadt and Immernachtreich were her homes.
The wind was knocked out of Fischl's lungs, La Strega's strikes blurring in her field of vision. All that registered was La Strega looming over Fischl's fetal curl, the Harbinger possessed by a crazed relief at being able to share her story.
She tore off her choker, and Fischl was again awash in horror at what could've been.
La Strega's cut marks on her throat had healed, but was a reminder of that night of dark, ugly thoughts and eroding hesitation.
"See this? I wasn't chosen like you were. I couldn't even die right, and even on the brink of death I couldn't summon my Oz. And those bullies, burning my 'Flowers for Princess Fischl' copy…" Her scowl seethed with rage dredged from a dark corner of her heart. "All that was left was to seek strength neither my homeland nor dreamland could provi - ah!"
Electro bolts hit La Strega, and Oz landed beside her. "Mein Fräulein! An archer should provide firepower from the rear."
La Strega recovered, and her gaze softened at the sight of them as a bygone dream of what could've been.
"Oz… I can't believe how good you've got it, me, despite how undeserving you are. Even if the Tsaritsa hadn't ordered me to, I'd have hunted you down anyway, because you're living the dream that I never could. And if I can't be the Prinzessin…" her scowl soured, "no one gets to." Fischl wished she could've lived her entire life without knowing her face could contort from such hideous, searing contempt.
Childe broke away from Diluc, positively drunk on battle-hunger as his being coalesced with power, enough to shake Fischl to the bone as a tuning fork sang with power.
"Let's take it to the limit! Foul Legacy - The Devouring Deep!"
"For once, we're in agreement. The End of All Songs - Vollständig!"
Both Harbingers vanished in a maelstrom of gathering power.
"Oh no."
Fischl breaking character didn't even matter anymore, thoroughly possessed by the real and immediate terror at their plummeting odds. Where the Foul Legacy had a regal pomp in his imperial dress and cape, the Vollständig was so transcendent as to be almost alien. Sat upon a giant crescent moon, La Strega's translucent form was adorned by veined rivulets pulsing so bright as to hurt the eyes. Her dress was inspired by fashion not of this world, and the flower spanning her mask sprouted from the eye where Fischl's patch would be.
From her crescent mount, more beams than there were stars in the night winked into existence, a firing squad with Fischl in their sights.
"Get out of there!"
"Mein Fräulein!"
"Fischl! Move!"
All those cries, lost upon Fischl as she found herself betrayed in mind and body. She was too rooted by fear to even think of evading, not that her body would have obeyed anyway.
She was going to die here.
Her vision filled with purple, an imminent and eviscerating flash whose warmth burned away her cold sweat -
Fischl felt herself jarred aside, energy shrieking past her in an obliterating wall. So deeply entrenched was Fischl in the throes of terror, all she dared to perceive was the pounding drum of her own heartbeat and nauseous irreality at surviving the unsurvivable.
It was at once strange and horrible, the thought she'd look down and gaze upon the corpse of Fischl, horribly mangled if not outright incinerated. For all that she tried to be Fischl, she was human, and the feeble mind comprehending how close she'd been to death melted her. A spiritual cave-in softening Fischl's legs into Mint Jelly and her arms into trembling, useless extremities. An external shake jarred Fischl back into reality, meeting the Raikou Shogun's glare with a tightened throat and burning eyes preceding a meltdown.
Raikou spoke, "It is the zenith of a warrior's nature not to ponder nor brashly act, but to act wisely without ever needing to think in the moment. You've much to learn." Releasing Fischl, Raikou's bosom crackled with peals of immanent thunder. "You two are a curiosity, to be sure, but nothing more than ants pretending at greatness. Musou no Hitotachi!"
Purple wings spread across the battlefield, both Archon and Harbinger crashing into each other with all the energy to bring about another Cataclysm. Such humbling exertions put Fischl in her place, leaving her to deal with the other half of the equation.
An irate La Strega whose moon sat in the sky, again glowing with spheres of energy.
"Stand up, weakling! You're not worthy of Oz, at least come back here and let me put an end to our shame!"
Oz's talons dug into skin whilst dragging Fischl away, clumsily aided by Mona. Fischl would lend a hand, if only she wasn't busy processing this mortal shock. And as the storm parted to reveal sunbeams, so did the good news pile in.
A familiar Anemo Burst crashed into La Strega, and Fischl's gaze snapped to the new faction of Vision wielders joining the fight.
Of the group, all that mattered was that Xinyan and Kazuha were there.
"Howdy, Prinzessin!"
"Xinyan! I mean - er…"
"You can come up with mah fancy title next time, but right now, we've gotta scram!" Xinyan's fire shield weathered some of La Strega's shots, and the group's eyepatched pirate unleashed a wave of energy to meet the incoming beams.
Fischl would be content to let fatigue overwhelm her, but La Strega's words irked her enough to inject life back into shaky limbs. Using Mona as a rest while Oz pulled her back upright, the sparks of righteous denial had blossomed into a fiber of defiance as even La Strega halted, curious to what she had to say.
It hurt to dig within the vulnerable side of herself for ammunition, but she met La Strega's gaze nonetheless. "You… even if the Prinzessin should stand alone against the universe, even without Oz, she will not falter nor betray her values. Knowing this, You dare call the Prinzessin weak, Gegenspieler?
"Yes, the Prinzessin flounders on occasion. Yes, the Prinzessin can be stuck in the shadow of doubt. But it is this weakness we overcome, and through weakness we understand our subjects better. All that borrowed power, yet thou possesses merely the verisimilitude of strength. You've no subjects to answer thy summons, no true allies to face the Götterdämmerung alongside, and no identity but that bestowed by a false idol. Yet to see you forsake yourself, the Prinzessin is no longer solely moved by this treacherous fear but also…" another wash of nerves ran through her in a chill, "sadness." Sadness and pain, not sensed but understood, upon comprehending the pain that drove her to forsake everything were things different.
Even with the mask on, La Strega's body telegraphed the jolt of shock as clear as a slap to the face. And on the heels of shock came a surge of rage great and terrible, translating into energy crackling around the Harbinger at once snappish and venomous.
The Voice cackled, her immanent powers of observation stretching across Teyvat. Only the voice materialized itself, yet its celebratory tone gave the impression of ecstasy clapped out with her formless laugh.
"Ah hah hah ha! Majestic! A Harbinger is a Harbinger, even in another universe. An Archon, moreso! But alas, not too fast! The fruits of this plan are not yet ripe!"
This, said as Fischl's team fought off La Strega's wrath in defeat. While Childe was lost in rapturous battle with the Raikou Shogun.
Yet what the Voice and Fischl failed to notice was what had happened to her Vision. Since the Raikou Shogun's body contact with her, a glowing, arcane power not of this world had nested within Fischl's Vision, awaiting a command to fulfill its purpose. A spark shot from it, a hiccup of power unnoticed amidst a chaotic retreat, and the Vision settled into a mysterious silence.