The morning sun filtered through the shoji screens of the traditional Inazuman house, casting soft beams of light across the polished wooden floor. Inside, the air was thick with tension. The low hum of distant city life was drowned out by the sharp rustle of papers as Signora, the harbinger of Snezhnaya's Fatui, sat rigid at her desk. Her gloved hands gripped the edges of a report, and her piercing crimson eyes scanned its contents with growing fury.

Her lips pressed into a thin line, her usual icy composure cracking under the weight of the grim news. The ornate red and black Fatui insignia on her uniform gleamed faintly under the light, a stark contrast to the cold, seething hatred reflected in her gaze.

"This… This is insane," Signora muttered, her voice low and venomous as her eyes scanned the reports again. Her perfectly manicured nails tapped against the desk with a sharp, rhythmic clatter, betraying her growing frustration.

Standing to her left was a young Fatui assistant, rigid as a board and trembling slightly under the suffocating tension that filled the room. She wore a standard uniform, her hat tucked under her arm, and her eyes darted nervously between the floor and her superior. The assistant's pale complexion betrayed her unease, but she dared not falter in her report.

"My Lady…" the assistant began hesitantly, her voice wavering as Signora snapped her head toward her, eyes burning with icy fury.

"Seven camps," Signora hissed, her tone laced with disbelief and rage. She slammed one of the reports down on the desk, her strength making the papers scatter. "Seven of our camps wiped out in a single night? Not a single one left standing?"

The assistant gulped audibly, her hands clutching her hat tightly. "It is very true, my Lady. I… I was there when we arrived at the aftermath. All seven camps were burned to the ground."

Signora's glare intensified as she leaned back in her chair, her gloved fingers steepled beneath her chin. The air in the room grew colder, the assistant shivering slightly under the sudden drop in temperature.

"No survivors…" Signora murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. It wasn't a question—it was a chilling realization that deepened the crease between her brows.

"N-No, my Lady," the assistant stammered, her voice cracking slightly as she stepped forward. "Not just that… There were no bodies either. Only limbs. Some of the remains we found were meters away from the camps, as if… as if they had tried to run but were hunted down."

"Hunted," Signora repeated coldly, her tone sharp and biting. Her piercing gaze bore into the assistant, who shrank back slightly. "Are you saying this was not the work of the locals or those pitiful samurai of the Tenryou Commission?"

The assistant shook her head frantically. "No, my Lady. This… this was something else entirely. The brutality… it was unlike anything I've seen before."

Signora's lips curled into a sneer, her anger flaring like a wildfire. She stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the wooden floor as she loomed over the desk. Her long cloak billowed slightly, the air around her growing even colder.

"Seven camps, hundreds of troops, wiped out overnight." She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms as her voice rose. "Do you have any idea what this means? What this embarrassment will do to our standing in Inazuma? The Shogun will think us weak, and our enemies will grow bold!"

The assistant trembled, lowering her head. "M-My Lady, we are investigating further."

The sound of the shoji doors sliding open broke the tense silence that hung over the room. Signora didn't bother to look up; her glare was fixed on the reports in front of her, and her fury was practically radiating off her like waves of heat. But the voice that followed was unmistakable—a smooth, almost mocking tone that carried with it a hint of amusement.

"Getting mad at your subordinates for no reason again, Signora? My, what an inspiring leader you are."

Signora's crimson eyes darted up sharply, narrowing as Childe strode into the room with his characteristic swagger. His usual smirk played on his lips, his blue eyes gleaming with a mix of mischief and subtle challenge. Dressed in his sleek Harbinger uniform, the Eleventh Fatui Harbinger looked far too casual for the dire situation at hand.

"This is serious!" Signora snapped, slamming her gloved hand onto the desk with enough force to rattle the papers scattered across it. "Seven camps—seven, Childe—wiped out overnight. No survivors, no bodies. Just limbs and ash. Do you understand what this means?"

Childe chuckled, waving a hand dismissively as he leaned casually against the doorframe. "Oh, I understand perfectly. Several camps annihilated, no survivors to tell the tale… Hmm, now where have we heard something like this before?"

Signora's glare hardened, her voice dropping to a deadly tone. "If you have a point to make, Childe, then make it."

Childe pushed off the doorframe and began to walk leisurely toward the desk, his boots clicking softly against the wooden floor. "I'm just saying," he continued, his tone infuriatingly calm, "doesn't this sound an awful lot like what happened in Dragonspine?"

At that, Signora froze. Her fingers, which had been drumming impatiently on the desk, stilled as her gaze locked onto Childe. "Are you suggesting…"

"Yes," Childe said, his smirk widening slightly. "All those Fatui troops who vanished in Dragonspine without a trace. No supplies, no reinforcements, nothing comes in, nothing comes out. Sound familiar?"

"That land…" Signora's voice trailed off, her expression darkening. "That cursed land is under the domain of that monster."

"Exactly," Childe said, spreading his arms in a theatrical gesture. "And now we have troops disappearing in Inazuma in much the same way. Camps burned to the ground, soldiers hunted like prey, no bodies left behind. If I didn't know any better, I'd say this has that monster's name written all over it."

Signora's jaw tightened as she processed his words. The implications were chilling, but the possibility was too glaring to ignore. "You're saying…"

"That monster," Childe interrupted, his tone growing more serious as he folded his arms across his chest. "Momon. He's here in Inazuma right now. Isn't he?"

Signora stiffened, her eyes narrowing dangerously. "You think this is his doing? That he's behind the annihilation of our troops?"

"Of course," Childe said without hesitation. His smirk returned, but there was no humor in his eyes as he pointed directly at her. "And do you want to know why? Because you, Signora, gave the orders to send troops after him and Aether."

Signora's lips curled into a sneer, her crimson gaze blazing as she rose from her chair. "Oh, so now it's all my fault? Is that what you're saying, Childe?"

Childe shrugged, his expression unapologetic. "I'm saying you should take responsibility for your actions. You knew he was dangerous, didn't you? You knew what he did in Liyue, what he's capable of, and you still sent soldiers after him like they were nothing more than cannon fodder."

Signora stepped around the desk, closing the distance between them in a few sharp, deliberate strides. The air around her grew heavy, a subtle heat radiating from her as her fury threatened to ignite.

"You're one to talk about taking responsibility," she said coldly, her voice dripping with venom. "Don't think I've forgotten your little escapades in Liyue. Or do I need to remind you of the mess you left behind with the Traveler and the Geo Archon?"

Childe's smirk faltered for just a moment before he recovered, his tone laced with mock indignation. "Oh, come on, Signora. That's ancient history. Besides, I'm not the one losing troops left and right in Inazuma."

Signora's eyes flashed dangerously, but before she could retort, Childe held up a hand, his expression growing more serious. "Look, I'm not here to fight with you. We both know this isn't just about you or me. With Momon in Inazuma, then we have a much bigger problem on our hands. And if we don't deal with it soon, the Fatui's reputation is going to be in shambles."

Signora stared at him for a long moment, her anger simmering just beneath the surface. Finally, she let out a sharp exhale, her gaze shifting back to the reports on the desk. "Fine," she said through gritted teeth. "We'll deal with him. But if this goes wrong, Childe, I'll make sure you regret every word you've said to me today."

Childe chuckled, his smirk returning as he turned toward the door. "Wouldn't expect anything less from you, Signora. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got some preparations to make. Let's see how long this monster can keep playing his little game."

The heavy tension in the room seemed to thicken as the sound of boots echoed down the hallway. Signora and Childe both turned toward the shoji doors, their expressions shifting to confusion and unease as the doors slid open, revealing a figure flanked by four Fatui troops. His presence was as unmistakable as it was unwelcome—his hat casting a shadow over his sharp features, his smirk carrying a mix of arrogance and disdain.

"Scaramouche?" Signora's voice dripped with surprise and irritation, her crimson eyes narrowing as she glared at the newcomer.

The Balladeer stepped into the room with an air of casual confidence, his hands tucked into his sleeves as he strolled past the Fatui soldiers who stood stiffly at attention behind him. His gaze flicked between Signora and Childe, and a mocking smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

"Three Harbingers in one place," Scaramouche said, his voice smooth and laced with sarcasm. "Now, that's a sight you don't see every day. Though I have to say, it's rarely a good thing."

Childe straightened, his casual demeanor giving way to mild annoyance. "What are you doing here in Inazuma, Scaramouche? Shouldn't you be off scheming somewhere else?"

Scaramouche didn't even bother to glance at him, his smirk widening as he walked further into the room. "Scheming, you say? If anyone here is guilty of that, it's you, Childe. But let's not waste time with petty accusations. I've come to take this operation into my own hands."

"Take the operation?" Signora repeated, her voice sharp with disbelief. "Since when does the Balladeer concern himself with matters outside his jurisdiction?"

Scaramouche finally stopped, turning to face them fully. His gaze was cold and calculating, his smirk now replaced with a faint scowl of authority. "The Tsaritsa has entrusted me with the task of ensuring the success of this mission. And that includes securing the Gnosis. You two have done nothing but fumble around and waste resources. It's time someone competent stepped in."

Childe laughed, though there was no humor in it. "Competent, huh? Says the guy who spent how long chasing after old relics in the desert? You can't just walk in here and take all the credit for work you didn't do."

Scaramouche's eyes flicked to Childe, his expression cold and dismissive. "Credit? Don't make me laugh, Childe. The only thing you care about is playing the hero and basking in the Tsaritsa's praise. You're as transparent as a child with a toy sword."

"And you're not?" Signora interjected, her voice dripping with venom. She stepped forward, her crimson gaze locking onto Scaramouche's with searing intensity. "You're just as desperate for the Tsaritsa's favor as the rest of us. Don't pretend you're above it."

Scaramouche's smirk returned, sharper and more venomous than before. "Oh, Signora. Unlike you, I don't grovel for scraps of praise. My actions speak for themselves. And right now, my actions are going to secure the Gnosis and clean up the mess you two have made here in Inazuma."

Signora's fists clenched at her sides, her fiery aura beginning to rise as her temper flared. "You arrogant little—"

"Enough," Scaramouche interrupted, his tone icy as he raised a hand to silence her. "The two of you have done nothing but squabble and point fingers while our forces are being slaughtered. Seven camps burned to the ground, no survivors. And instead of taking decisive action, you're here arguing like spoiled children."

Childe's grin faded, replaced by a more serious expression. "And what's your grand plan, then? Wipe out the monster behind this all by yourself?"

Scaramouche tilted his head slightly, his smirk taking on a sinister edge. "Perhaps. Or perhaps I'll do what neither of you seem capable of—thinking. Whoever's behind this carnage clearly isn't an ordinary enemy. Charging in blindly, as you love to do, Childe, will only get more of our men killed."

"And what about the Gnosis?" Signora asked, her voice biting. "You think you'll just waltz in and take it, ignoring the groundwork I've already laid here?"

"The groundwork?" Scaramouche sneered, stepping closer to her. "You mean the failures? You let the Traveler slip through your fingers, failed to deal with Momon, and now you're floundering because you've lost control. The Tsaritsa won't be pleased, Signora."

Signora's aura flared again, heat radiating from her as the room seemed to grow heavier. "Watch your tongue, Scaramouche. You're treading on dangerous ground."

"And yet," Scaramouche said, leaning in slightly, his voice low and mocking, "it's ground you can't seem to stand on."

Childe stepped between them, raising his hands in a placating gesture. "Alright, alright, let's all calm down before someone sets the place on fire—literally. As much as I hate to say it, Scaramouche does have a point. This situation is spiraling out of control, and we need to get a handle on it. Fighting each other won't solve anything."

Scaramouche straightened, his smirk returning as he stepped back. "For once, Childe, you've said something useful. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have plans to put into motion. Try not to get in my way."

The tension in the room surged like a gathering storm as Signora's voice rang out, her fiery determination cutting through the uneasy silence. "I will be the one to take the Gnosis for Her Majesty the Tsaritsa!" she declared, her tone unwavering and full of conviction.

Scaramouche, who had been striding toward the exit, stopped in his tracks. His steps slowed, and the faint echo of his boots on the wooden floor lingered in the air. Without turning his head, he allowed a moment of silence to stretch, his very presence exuding a simmering disdain. Slowly, he pivoted on his heel, his hat casting a shadow over his sharp, angular features. His gaze, cold and calculating, locked onto Signora.

"You?" he began, his voice dripping with mockery and derision. "You're going to take the Gnosis?" He chuckled softly, though there was no humor in the sound. "How bold of you, Signora, to think you stand a chance in the domain of the Thunder God."

Signora's crimson eyes flared with heat as she straightened herself, the air around her seemingly growing warmer with her rising temper. "Unlike you, Scaramouche," she spat his name as if it were venom on her tongue, "I am not afraid of the Raiden Shogun. Her Majesty has entrusted me with this mission, and I will see it through."

At this, Scaramouche's mocking grin faltered, his expression darkening. He took a step closer, the atmosphere in the room growing heavy with a palpable sense of unease. "You really are as blind as you are arrogant," he said, his voice soft but laced with venom. "You're not dealing with the God of Contracts here, Signora. This isn't Liyue, where negotiations and trade agreements hold sway. This is Inazuma—her realm. The Raiden Shogun doesn't honor contracts. She doesn't bargain or compromise."

The room fell silent as Signora's voice sliced through the tension like a blade. Her crimson eyes blazed with determination as she declared, "I don't care how mighty the Raiden Shogun is! When her Majesty the Tsaritsa is the greatest of them all, none of it matters. I will retrieve the Gnosis myself, no matter what stands in my way."

Scaramouche, leaning nonchalantly against the wall, let out a dry chuckle, tipping his hat slightly to shadow his smug grin. "Well, by all means, go ahead," he said, his voice dripping with mock indifference. "It's not like the Gnosis is in her possession anymore, anyway."

Both Signora and Childe froze, their attention snapping toward him. "What did you just say?" Signora demanded, her voice sharp and tinged with disbelief.

Childe, standing with his arms crossed, raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "Care to elaborate, Scara?"

Scaramouche straightened, his smirk deepening as he reveled in the dramatic effect of his revelation. "I learned a long time ago that the Raiden Shogun entrusted the Gnosis to a… friend," he said, pacing toward the center of the room with a deliberate slowness that made every word hang heavy in the air. "But, as you know, most of her old friends are long gone. All except one."

He stopped by the window, his gaze shifting toward the distant silhouette of Mt. Yougou, where the Grand Narukami Shrine stood cloaked in mist. The faint glow of the setting sun illuminated his face as he pointed toward the sacred mountain. "That kitsune… Yae Miko."

The corners of his mouth twisted into a sly smile, and his voice dropped to a conspiratorial tone. "Yes, the esteemed Guuji Yae is in possession of the Gnosis. It's tucked away safely in her grasp, far from the Shogun's ironclad rule."

Signora's eyes widened in a rare moment of surprise, quickly followed by a flare of anger. "Guuji Yae?" she hissed. "You're telling me the Raiden Shogun handed something as valuable as the Gnosis to her? That conniving fox?"

Scaramouche shrugged, the epitome of nonchalance. "Don't act so shocked, Signora. You should know by now that the Raiden Shogun isn't exactly predictable. The Gnosis is in Yae Miko's hands, and frankly, I don't care how that makes you feel."

Signora's fists clenched at her sides as her mind raced. If this information was true, it complicated everything. The mission had suddenly shifted, and now Scaramouche had the upper hand in a way that infuriated her. She opened her mouth to retort, but Childe stepped forward, raising a hand to diffuse the brewing tension.

"Whoa, let's take it easy here," Childe said, his tone light but firm. "No need to get all heated, folks. If Scara's got the intel, we should work together. No sense in tripping over each other to get to Yae Miko, right?"

"Work together?" Scaramouche scoffed, narrowing his eyes at Childe. "Don't make me laugh. I don't need you or her getting in my way. This mission is mine."

"Yours?" Signora snapped, her voice dripping with venom. "Don't forget, puppet, that you wouldn't even know about the Gnosis if it weren't for us collecting intel. You're not taking all the credit for this."

"Oh, please," Scaramouche sneered, stepping closer to Signora until they were face to face. His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "The only thing you're good at is getting in over your head. Stay out of my way, or I'll make sure you regret it."

Signora's Cryo energy began to crackle faintly in the air, the room temperature dropping as she glared at him. "Watch your tone, Scaramouche," she warned, her voice icy. "You may be a Harbinger, but so am I. Don't think you can intimidate me."

Before the tension could explode, Childe clapped his hands loudly, cutting through the hostile air. "Alright, enough!" he said, stepping between them. "This is getting us nowhere. If Yae Miko has the Gnosis, we're better off pooling our resources than fighting each other. Let's just focus on the task at hand."

Signora took a deep breath, her frosty demeanor softening just enough to signal that she wouldn't escalate further—for now. "Fine," she said curtly, glaring at Scaramouche. "But we're coming with you. And don't even think about rejecting us. This is an order from the Tsaritsa herself."

Scaramouche clicked his tongue in irritation, spinning on his heel to avoid looking at either of them. "Tch. Fine," he muttered. "But don't slow me down, and don't get in my way. This mission is mine, and I won't have you idiots ruining it."

The morning sun bathed the Kamisato Estate in a golden glow, the soft light filtering through the surrounding sakura trees and casting playful shadows over the cobblestone paths. The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of blooming flowers and morning dew, yet the tranquil beauty of the estate did little to calm Momon's restless mind. He returned with slow, purposeful strides, his presence commanding yet eerily silent, as though the very air grew heavy in his wake. His crimson cape trailed behind him, fluttering faintly in the breeze.

Momon had spent the early hours overseeing the aftermath of the mission. The Fatui camps, once symbols of power and defiance, were now nothing but smoldering ruins. His vampire servant had executed the clean-up with meticulous efficiency, ensuring no trace of their involvement remained. The enemy's arrogance had been met with ruthless precision—a message that could not be ignored.

But the aftermath weighed on him for another reason. The little ninja girl, Sayu, had been a complication he hadn't anticipated. She had stumbled upon the scene, an unwitting witness to the chaos. Momon had no choice but to erase her memory, ensuring she wouldn't recall the horror she had seen or the existence of the vampires involved. He had left her in Chinju Forest under the watchful eye of one of his servants, hoping she would awaken with no lingering effects. Though he was confident in the spell's efficacy, the thought of something going awry nagged at the edges of his mind. Sayu's innate laziness might have shielded her from danger so far, but the forest was no safe haven, especially with the Fatui lurking nearby.

As his thoughts turned to his trusted servant, Ivana, his expression darkened. Once a formidable Cicin Mage, she had been a valuable asset in the Fatui's ranks before her transformation. Momon had considered leveraging her past connections to infiltrate their organization, but her vampiric transformation had severed her ties to her old powers. The Magic Tier system that governed her new abilities was an entirely different construct, rendering Visions or Delusions incompatible with her vampiric nature. Ivana was still skilled, her vampiric abilities far surpassing her former self in raw power, but without her previous expertise, she was no longer the ideal candidate for such a delicate mission.

Momon weighed the risk carefully. Could she truly pass unnoticed in the shadowy halls of the Fatui, where cunning and suspicion reigned supreme? The answer was clear: he couldn't afford another gamble, not when the stakes were this high. His enemies were growing bold, and any misstep could tip the scales against him.

His crimson eyes narrowed as he considered the Harbinger rumored to be in Inazuma. This wasn't just a diplomatic visit, and the Fatui's recent aggression had made their intentions unmistakable. The camps, the sudden attacks, and their boldness in sending troops after him—it all pointed to a declaration of war. Momon's hand tightened into a fist, his resolve hardening.

The Fatui had underestimated him, believing they could challenge his authority and survive the consequences. That was their gravest mistake. If the Harbinger believed themselves untouchable, Momon would ensure they learned otherwise. There would be no mercy this time, no negotiation. War had been declared, and Momon would meet it with a storm of vengeance that would leave no doubt about his power.

The peaceful morning at the Kamisato Estate was shattered when Momon, still standing near the estate's entrance, noticed Ayaka rushing out of the mansion. Her usually composed demeanor was gone, replaced by a look of deep concern. Behind her, Paimon flitted frantically, her high-pitched voice cutting through the serene air.

"Momon!" Paimon called out, her tiny form darting toward him. "We've got trouble!"

Momon turned sharply, his crimson eyes narrowing at their distressed expressions. "What happened?" he asked, his voice steady but edged with urgency.

Paimon practically yelled, her hands waving dramatically, "Aether and Thoma got arrested by the Tenryou Commission!"

"What?" Momon's tone darkened instantly, the weight of the words sinking in. "Why would they—"

"It was Kujou Sara," Ayaka interrupted, her voice trembling slightly but still carrying her usual poise. "She led a squad of the Tenryou Commission. There were too many of them… Aether and Thoma didn't stand a chance."

"I swear, we tried!" Paimon added desperately. "But Aether told me to find you instead of following them. He said you'd know what to do."

Momon clenched his fists, his mind already racing through possible scenarios. "Damn it," he muttered under his breath. He knew Aether wouldn't have asked for help unless the situation was dire. "I should have been here…"

Ayaka stepped closer, her voice steady despite the worry etched on her face. "There's more. Today is a grand ceremony in Inazuma City, hosted by the Tenryou Commission. They have confiscated ninety-nine Visions as a demonstration of their authority. Thoma's Vision… it happens to be the one hundredth."

Momon's expression grew colder. "A public spectacle," he said, his tone laced with disgust. "They want to make an example of him."

Ayaka nodded, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. "I fear they'll use this ceremony to solidify their control. If you go, please be careful. Kujou Sara is a formidable warrior and deeply loyal to the Raiden Shogun."

Momon's gaze softened slightly as he looked at Ayaka, but the determination in his eyes remained unwavering. "I'll bring them back," he said firmly. "No matter what."

Ayaka reached out, her fingers lightly brushing his sleeve. "Be careful, Momon," she whispered. "Please."

Momon nodded, then turned away, his dark cloak sweeping dramatically behind him. His eyes gleamed as he extended a hand, activating his flight ability. The air around him shimmered faintly as he lifted off the ground, his powerful figure ascending effortlessly.

"Wait! Hey, wait for me!" Paimon shouted, flailing her arms as she tried to catch up.

Ayaka watched them disappear into the horizon, her hands clasped tightly over her chest. The morning sun reflected off her pale hair, but her usual calm was overshadowed by the worry etched on her face. "Please," she whispered to herself, "let them come back safely."