Walking through the Citadel of the Fatui is like being marched through the spine of a sleeping dragon.
Everything is cold—stone walls, steel doors, the air itself. Silent guards line the halls like statues, armor polished to a mirror shine. No one speaks. No one dares look directly at me.
Or rather… him.
Capitano.
I walk slower than I should, buying myself seconds to think. Every echo of my armored boots feels too loud. My brain's working overtime, trying to remember every scrap of lore I ever read about this guy. Which… isn't much.
Capitano. The Captain. One of the highest-ranked Harbingers. Supposedly leads armies, inspires fear, doesn't talk much. Great. That last one's the only reason I haven't already blown my cover.
The soldier guiding me stops in front of two towering doors. "They await you inside, Lord Capitano," she says, bowing her head.
I nod once. She leaves without another word.
I inhale. Steady. Calm. You're Capitano. Mask on. Voice low. Movements deliberate. You are the nightmare in the night.
I push the doors open.
The war council room is massive, circular, and dimly lit by ice-blue torches. A long obsidian table stretches across the center, surrounded by high-backed chairs—each uniquely styled for the monster who sits in it.
And speaking of monsters…
Arlecchino is already here, lounging like a wolf in silk. Her red eyes flick to me, sharp and amused. She smiles—but there's nothing kind in it.
Pantalone, across from her, adjusts his gloves with slow precision, gaze cool behind those half-moon glasses. A merchant's poise. A viper's mind.
Pulcinella sits nearer the head, old and hunched, hands folded over a cane. He barely glances up.
Two others are missing—probably Dottore and Sandrone. Maybe they'll show. Maybe they won't.
I make my way to the empty seat at the table—mine, apparently. No one speaks as I sit. The silence is a test in itself.
Then, Pulcinella clears his throat.
"The resistance in Natlan is becoming more than a local issue. Their flame-blooded zealots grow bolder by the day. We require… decisive action."
All eyes shift to me.
My stomach tightens. Decisive action. Right. That's my specialty now, huh?
I say nothing for a second—just long enough to feel the tension rise.
Then I lean forward slightly.
"Let them come. If they dare."
That's all I say. Flat. Cold.
Pantalone blinks once. Arlecchino's smile widens—sharp as a blade.
Pulcinella chuckles. "Hmph. As expected from the Captain."
The meeting continues. Discussions of numbers, movements, border friction. I say almost nothing. Just enough. When I speak, I keep it short. Ambiguous. Vague enough that they interpret it however they want.
It works.
But the whole time, I feel it—that weight pressing in. Like wolves circling, sniffing for weakness.
After what feels like an eternity, the meeting ends. The Harbingers rise. One by one, they vanish through shadowed exits.
I stand, pretending I know where to go.
"You're quieter than usual," a voice says behind me.
I stop.
Arlecchino.
She steps into view, hands clasped behind her back, head tilted just enough to seem casual.
"But maybe you're just choosing your words more carefully these days. Learning to play the long game?"
I say nothing. Capitano's silent treatment again.
Her eyes narrow slightly.
"I do like this version of you," she murmurs. "Still dangerous. But different. Unexpected."
She brushes past me, close enough for her words to slip beneath the mask.
"Just don't surprise us too much, Capitano. We don't handle... change well."
And then she's gone.
I stand there alone for a long moment.
Yeah. This is going to be a nightmare.
But I survived the first test.
Now I just have to survive the next thousand...