Author Notes: Hey there, so this is just a fun thing that someone from SB thought up, and I just couldn't resist writing it. It's not canon, so don't pay too much attention to the timeline.
Enjoy.
/ --- /
Volkov
The report landed on the Tsaritsa's desk at precisely the third hour of the morning, as all reports of significance did.
Her Majesty did not sleep the way mortals slept. She existed in a state of perpetual awareness that merely slowed during the quiet hours.
So when the intelligence officer slid the dossier across the obsidian surface of her desk, she was already reading before he had fully straightened up.
Volkov expected many things when he signed up for the Fatui, and he experienced many crazier things in his time as an agent.
He had a few not-so-pleasant encounters with the Shadow Courier and his wacky lineup of monstrous abominations.
After the first 50 encounters, he had developed a persistent nervous tic in his left eye every time he saw a shadow.
'If I see those dogs again, I am going to lose it!'
After handing Her Majesty the letter, he stood in silence. He had learned, after several memorable lessons, that Her Majesty preferred to read in silence.
She read through the letter without a sound being made.
The dossier was very thorough, something Volkov took great pride in.
Five months of compiled behavioral intelligence, cross-referenced with the Guyun extraction report and the subsequent sample analysis from The Marionette's division.
The compiled observations were presented with additional pictures and notes. Photographs showed the subject in various locations around Liyue Harbor, consistently accompanied by one or more of the following individuals: Ganyu, the Secretary of the Qixing. Beidou, Captain of the Crux Fleet. Ningguang, Tianquan of the Qixing. Shenhe, an unknown variable with immense strength. And finally, a mature woman with greenish hair and red glasses, who was also unknown.
A footnote at the bottom of the page read:
[All subjects are significantly older than the target. This pattern has been noted and is considered potentially relevant for operational planning purposes. See appendix C.]
She set the dossier down on her desk after reading it.
For a long moment, the room was very quiet, and Volkov couldn't help but grow slightly nervous.
Then Her Majesty reached for a sheet of paper, wrote something on it, then folded it and held it out to him along with the dossier.
"Deliver that to Tartaglia," she said.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"Tell him it requires his immediate personal attention."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"And Volkov."
He had been halfway to the door. He stopped. "Your Majesty?"
"You did good work."
Volkov experienced several emotions simultaneously, none of which he could show on his face due to his mask. "Thank you, Your Majesty."
/ — /
Childe
"A personal task from Her Majesty?"
Childe took the note and dossier from Volkov and gave the man a dismissive wave as he disappeared from his doorway.
He sat down at his desk, set the dossier aside for a moment, and unfolded the note first.
'Let's see what this mission is about.'
…
…
'What the—? That can't be right.'
…
…
He set the note down very carefully on his desk, picked up the dossier, and spent the next twenty minutes reading through the full intelligence report on the Shadow Courier.
When he finished, he closed the dossier and sat back on his chair with a very heavy, and very loud sigh.
He picked up the note again and read it one more time.
The instructions were clear, and it was unmistakably Her Majesty's handwriting. He was to personally assemble the relevant female Harbingers, present them with the intelligence on the target, and brief them on the proposed operational approach.
Her Majesty had underlined personally twice, which meant there was no ambiguity and no delegation.
'Her Majesty wants ME,' he thought slowly, 'to walk into a room with Arlecchino, Signora, Sandrone, and Columbina, and tell them that their next mission is to—'
He stopped the thought.
"...No." He said it out loud to no one. It wasn't a refusal of his task, that was out of the question. He would carry out any mission from Her Majesty, no matter how difficult (or absurd).
What was in question was whether Tartaglia, Eleventh of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers, veteran of battles against gods and monsters and whatever Liyue Harbor threw at him on a given day, was going to survive the fifteen minutes immediately following when he opened his mouth and said the words out loud in front of all four of them.
He estimated a 90% chance of leaving that room in worse condition than he entered it.
"...There's no way I'm doing this," he said, to the ceiling.
He looked at the note one more time.
Specifically at the underlined words that were directed at him.
"Fine."
If he was doing this, he was going in prepared. He needed a clear order of presentation, contingency plans for the most likely reactions, and ideally some kind of opening statement that would delay Sandrone's outburst by at least thirty seconds so he could get through the actual briefing before there was a him-shaped hole in the wall.
"Her Majesty tests us in mysterious ways…"
/ — /
The next morning, Childe rehashed the plan he had made.
His desk was covered in four separate pages of notes, two discarded drafts, and a small diagram of the briefing room that he had drawn from memory and annotated with letters corresponding to the exit routes he had identified.
He had also written in bold letters "SURVIVE" on the top right of the paper to motivate himself.
Leaning back in his chair, he tried psyching himself up. He had faced many worthy opponents. Facing his fellow Harbingers shouldn't be so bad, right?
He stood up and looked at the window. He was on the seventh floor. The drop wasn't that bad, honestly. He had landed from worse. If he tucked and rolled at the right angle—
He turned away from the window to stop that train of thought.
"Come on, Ajax, you're a Harbinger," he told himself, straightening his coat. "You've fought gods! You can brief four of your colleagues about a mission without losing your limbs."
…
…
"Probably."
/ — /
Somehow, the four of them arrived earlier than Childe. Which only made the situation worse for him.
Sandrone and Columbina were chatting about something. While Arlecchino and Signora looked deathly bored.
They all simultaneously turned their heads once they sensed his presence.
"You're late," Sandrone said.
"Hey, It's only thirty seconds—!"
"And that is thirty seconds too late." She said, placing strong emphasis on "late."
Her answer got a chuckle from Columbina and a snicker from Signora. Even Arlecchino looked slightly amused.
'At least this put them in good spirits.'
"Right." He cleared his throat. "I've been personally tasked by Her Majesty to relay a mission briefing. I want to state upfront that everything I'm about to say comes directly from official written orders, which are available for review."
He tapped the dossier. "Just so we're clear. This is a legitimate briefing."
Signora's eyes narrowed slightly, instantly able to recognize the nervous jitter in his posture. "Why would you need to specify that it's legitimate?"
"I'll get to that."
"That's not reassuring," she responded, but her curiosity was growing about the mission.
"First. The target." He slid the dossier to the center of the table. "The Shadow Courier."
"Oh? The one with the odd energy?" Sandrone picked up the dossier without being invited to and started flipping through it.
"Yes, I remember this. I personally helped make it." She muttered. "But why bring four harbingers here just for him? He is strong, but nothing to warrant this degree of power."
"Just give me a second, and I'll explain, geez." Childe continued, "The data compiled over five months has identified a consistent pattern in his social associations."
He found the relevant page in his notes and showed the rest of the Harbingers, "The target has established close relationships with a number of individuals. Specifically Ganyu. Beidou. Ningguang. Shenhe. And an unidentified woman with green hair and red glasses."
Arlecchino's eyes moved to him, "Stop beating around the bush and get to the point, Tartaglia."
"The relevant detail," he said slowly, "is that every person on that list is older than the target. Significantly older in most cases."
"Her Majesty has voiced her interest in bringing him into our ranks, without force. Since bribery did not work—surprisingly— she decided on another approach."
Nobody said anything.
Childe picked up the official authorization letter. Set it on the table and quickly slid it forward before hurrying back a safe distance.
"Her Majesty's directive is that this approach be pursued to bring him into our ranks. The specific method…"
"Is seduction."
…
…
The room went so quiet that Childe could hear his own heart beating.
Sandrone stopped flipping through the dossier.
Signora turned very stiff.
Arlecchino said nothing, which was somehow louder than if she had said something.
Columbina, bless her soul, tilted her head slightly in curiosity.
"Oh," she said. "How interesting."
"ABSOLUTELY NOT," Sandrone shouted, and Childe had to fight back the urge to summon his weapon for defence.
"T-The authorization letter—".
"Let me see that!" Sandrone snatched it off the table and read it. "This is—? Her Majesty actually—?!"
"This is real?!"
Childe could only nod quickly.
Sandrone put the letter down slowly, barely restraining herself from tearing it apart. "This is the most ridiculous thing I have ever read, and I have read research proposals from Dottore."
"I understand your—"
"Don't say you understand anything. You are the one standing in this room telling us this, which means you agreed to be here, which means you—" She suddenly stopped talking, and Childe was all but ready to turn tail and flee.
Thankfully, Sandrone snapped her head to Columbina. "You are not doing this."
Columbina made a confused sound. "But I haven't said anything."
"I could see you thinking about it."
"I was just thinking it sounded like an interesting experience," Columbina said, oblivious to the impact her words are having on her colleagues. "I've never done anything like this before."
"That's exactly why you're not doing it."
"But I could learn—"
"""No.""" The others responded simultaneously.
Arlecchino seemed to take the information better than the rest. She read it once herself before setting it aside.
Signora had not moved or spoken since the word seduction had left his mouth. He turned to her carefully.
She looked up. "What is my role?"
"Oh! Sorry, I forgot that Her Majesty gave specific instructions for you." Childe found the relevant line in his notes. "You're here for support and advisory."
The tension in Signora's shoulders instantly went away. Childe couldn't blame her, he knew about her background, and Her Majesty would never make her take up a main role in a mission like this.
Signora's expression had settled into something still deeply unhappy but cooperative.
Which was pretty on brand for her.
"Then, before anyone does anything, we need proper baseline intelligence on the target's actual preferences and behavioral tendencies. I'm not running an operation on five months of surveillance photographs and a footnote."
"I can handle the research," Sandrone said grumpily, making her disapproval visible for all to see.
Then she seemed to realize what she'd volunteered for and added, loudly, "For operational efficiency. Not because I have any investment in this."
"Of course," Signora said, yet she was unable to hold a smile from forming.
"Someone needs to make sure the intelligence is actually usable, or the whole thing falls apart before it starts."
"You're right." Arlecchino chimed in, equally amused by her colleague's behaviour.
"I know I'm right," Sandrone said with a huff, crossing her arms. "I want it on record that I think this plan is absurd."
"Noted," Childe said.
"And that Columbina needs a supervisor. I'm not letting that filthy courier put his grubby hands anywhere near her. "
"I'm right here…" Columbina countered weakly.
"I know what I said!"
As the banter died down, Childe was partly surprised and relieved that none of them had lashed out at him, and he could potentially leave this meeting unscathed.
"Her Majesty expects initial operational planning within the week. Any questions can be directed to—"
"To you," Signora said.
"...Yes. To me."
"Good." She stood, smoothing her coat. "We will be in touch."
Childe watched the four of them file out with varying degrees of composure. Arlecchino first, her expression barely changing at all, Signora behind her already making mental notes, Sandrone last, still grumbling under her breath, and Columbina, who looked even more determined to do the mission just because Sandrone tried to keep her out of it.
As they finally left, Childe couldn't help but feel sorry for the Shadow Courier. Who knows what those four will cook up? But he was just glad that this wasn't his problem anymore.
'Let's hope you're as formidable in romance as you are in combat, comrade…'
/ — /
Dottore
Somewhere considerably further north, in a dark laboratory, a small device on a cluttered workbench crackled with faint audio.
Dottore set down his pen.
He had been listening since the beginning of the briefing, because Dottore listened to everything and had devices everywhere, and because the Shadow Courier had been a subject of personal interest ever since he took a peek at Sandrone's research.
The audio crackled one more time, then fell silent as the meeting room emptied.
He sat back in his chair and was quiet for a long moment.
Then he cackled wildly, which was a rare reaction to get out of him.
He picked up his pen, pulled a fresh sheet of paper toward himself, and began writing something with apparent glee on his face that would terrify anyone who saw.
The plan Her Majesty had sanctioned was, objectively, amusing. The target's behavioral pattern was documented. The approach was logical, if unorthodox.
And the assembled team, while formidable in their respective ways, had one significant gap in their collective profile.
None of them knew how to truly woo a man as unconventional as the Shadow Courier.
He, on the other hand, had plenty of data.
Sitting in a separate storage room was a segment he had been meaning to put to use for some time.
Originally created to keep him under the radar, it had been gathering dust for the better part of two years.
He had created many segments, yet this particular segment had one glaring difference.
It had the form of a female.
He couldn't help but chuckle once more at the absurdity. Who could have thought this was how he was going to use his first female segment.
Its form was crafted to still resemble him in a way, yet with much more emphasis on the female figure.
He finished writing, reviewed the notes, and found them satisfactory.
'An interesting opportunity for up close observation,' He thought. 'A mere sample of the subject's energy reacts strongly with the Abyss. Proximity would allow for direct observation that no surveillance device could replicate.'
The fact that it also meant inserting himself into what promised to be the most entertaining operation the Fatui had run in decades was entirely incidental.
"This will certainly be interesting."
/ — /
Ren
Ren had three deliveries left before sundown and was mentally sorting the most efficient route between them when his instincts felt something was wrong.
It wasn't anything he could point to and identify with any of his established senses. It was merely his gut telling him that something bad was going to happen.
He carefully observed the people around him. The harbor crowd moved past him without batting an eye. Nothing unusual. Nothing that his senses flagged as hostile or even particularly interesting.
He turned back around and kept walking, putting his deliveries back to the front of his mind.
Yet the feeling didn't go away.
'Probably nothing,' he told himself.
But for the rest of the afternoon, without knowing why, he found himself constantly checking over his shoulder.