The office was empty, with only neatly arranged documents remaining.
Furina was shocked to see Melusine push the cart to the side of the desk.
She was certain—she had clearly seen Leo walk in carrying a stack of papers.
So why was there no one here now?
She looked around. The windows and doors were closed tightly, showing no sign of having been disturbed.
Where had he gone?
She was Fontaine's Archon, a grand guardian of her people—and yet, her guest had vanished right under her nose?
Her gaze landed on the doll resting on the table. Furina leaned closer to inspect it, and her heart immediately jolted in panic.
There were fingerprints on the doll!
That was impossible. She had a habit of wiping the doll clean every time before leaving her office.
Quickly dismissing the Melusine with instructions to leave, Furina hung a sign outside the office door:
"Do not enter without permission."
She twisted the doll, and with a click, a secret door opened. Furina rushed inside, desperate to reach Leo before he discovered something he was never meant to see.
The hidden passage wasn't long. At the end stood a door, engraved with a solemn inscription:
"The Prophecy of Fontaine.
All people of Fontaine are born with sin, and no matter how the just nation of Fontaine judges them, their sin cannot be erased.
Until the day comes when the waters of Fontaine begin to rise, and the sinners are gradually swallowed by the sea…
…In the end, all will dissolve into the ocean, leaving only the Water God weeping upon her throne.
From that day forward, the sins of Fontaine's people will be washed away."
The parchment was yellowed with age, clearly written many years ago. Yet Leo recognized the handwriting immediately—it belonged to Lady Furina herself.
For a moment, his chest tightened. He felt a heavy pressure, as though he could not breathe.
A prophecy. As a child, he had always dismissed it as nothing more than a tale.
As a young man, he had laughed it off as a myth.
But after meeting Neuvillette, entering the Opera Epiclese, and learning truths hidden from the public, he could no longer treat it as a story.
Furina was the Hydro Archon. Surely she had been struggling to find a solution all this time.
But why hadn't she told anyone?
Pushing the door open, Leo froze in place.
Before him stretched a vast library—larger even than the one inside the Opera Epiclese.
Everywhere he looked, books and records were marked with slips, catalogued by year, time, and location.
"Fontaine Academy of Sciences…"
"The Narcissus Cross Society…"
Countless organizations and events, past and present, were documented here, each entry writing yet another chapter of Fontaine's story.
Leo picked one up and read aloud:
"This is a record from two hundred years ago.
Reports have come in from various regions that the water level across Fontaine has risen significantly once again. The Academies of Science are conducting research—I pray they can find a solution."
One record after another flooded Leo's mind—from events five hundred years ago, to entries as recent as the previous month.
And it was not only Fontaine. There were records tied to other nations as well.
"The fleeing Oceanid speaks—the waters of Fontaine are poisoned?"
"The primordial sea, dissolving, devouring sin…"
New words, new revelations swirled in Leo's thoughts, reshaping his understanding of the looming catastrophe.
At the very center of the chamber stood a desk, surrounded by ladders, unfinished manuscripts, and Furina's notes and sketches.
Leo recalled how there were always a few days each month when Furina would lock herself away in the office, refusing entry to anyone—not even him, not even Neuvillette.
As he was pondering this, a faint sound disturbed him.
Light breathing—coming from all around.
"…Who's there?" Leo called out.
No reply came. Only that steady, quiet breathing.
Looking up into the dimness, Leo spotted the great mechanism overhead. Machinery pulsed with faint light, radiating energy throughout the chamber.
Everyone in Fontaine knew this machine's name:
The Oratrice Mécanique d'Analyse Cardinale.
The great judge of Fontaine—the instrument that gathered energy from every trial at the Opera Epiclese, refining it into a mixture of justice and restitution, to power the nation itself.
But why… why was there a breathing sound coming from inside it?
That was impossible. Ridiculous. There couldn't be someone hiding within the Oratrice itself.
Yet the thought clawed at him.
He had once asked Neuvillette: the Oratrice absorbed vast amounts of energy every day. But then—why wasn't it felt throughout Fontaine?
Shaking his head, Leo tried to focus. He moved toward the desk to examine its contents.
Scattered across the floor were loose notes and papers.
Most carried only a single, haunting sentence:
"So lonely… so long…"
The desk itself was piled with scientific tomes, authored by the greatest scholars of Teyvat.
Yet Leo remembered clearly—Furina had always claimed to despise such writings. Instead, she preferred heroic epics and melodramatic tales.
Why, then, was her desk drowning in science texts?
Leo's eyes wandered back to the great Oratrice above. The energy it gathered shimmered faintly, pulsating across the room.
If the Oratrice was endlessly absorbing energy, what was that energy truly being used for?
It was enough power to obliterate Fontaine itself. So why was Furina stockpiling it?
To kill someone? That made no sense.
What of Neuvillette? He had been invited to his position by Furina herself. There was no reason for harm.
No… it must be something else.
If not destruction, then resistance.
She must have been gathering energy to defy the prophecy.
But the power did not seem linked to any effort to control the rising sea, nor to counter the primordial waters beneath the Fortress of Meropide.
Scratching his head, Leo frowned. He couldn't piece it together. Perhaps his master, far more knowledgeable, could provide answers. He would need to write and ask.
For now, this puzzle was too vast for him.
Still, that faint breathing persisted, gnawing at his nerves. Leo might have been simple in some ways, but he was not a fool.
As he strained to listen, his vision suddenly darkened, and consciousness slipped away.
"Finally caught up!"
Furina's voice rang out.
"Leo, just sleep for now! Some things… some things must remain unseen."
She stood there clutching a heavy staff, traces of blood staining its tip—proof of the force she had used to strike him.
She hadn't known how much strength to apply. All she could do was swing down with all her might.
In her mind, Leo was a martial artist, hardy and resilient. A blow like that would only leave him aching for a day or two at most.
As for the blood? She already had excuses in mind—lies to convince him later.
And if he remembered what he had seen? She could always dismiss it as a dream. Surely even Leo, naïve as he was, would believe her.
She still underestimated him. Leo's master was a notorious trickster, and deception had been his bread and butter.
After a careful inspection of the room, Furina sighed in relief.
Fortunately, Leo had only glimpsed surface-level notes. Nothing too dangerous. That much was harmless.
As long as he hadn't opened those drawers… everything would remain under control.
Her gaze fell on Leo's unconscious form. Peaceful, almost regal, lying on the floor as though he were some fairy-tale prince locked in enchanted slumber.
For a fleeting moment, she thought he looked just like Sleeping Beauty. Beautiful… serene.
But then her breath caught.
"Wait—blood?"
Looking closer, Furina paled. She had struck too hard. Crimson dripped from Leo's mouth.