The burn of a Harbinger

#2

TW:!! Mention of blood,
Violence, &
mature topics.!!

.......................

The frigid air of Snezhnaya bit into the skin, sharp and unforgiving, as Arlecchino made her way through the dimly lit streets. The wind howled between the buildings, carrying with it the faint sounds of life from the city, but all of it seemed distant, irrelevant. Her long, dark cloak fluttered behind her as she moved, her steps silent against the icy cobblestones. The weight of her polearm rested comfortably in her hand, its cold steel glinting faintly under the sparse moonlight.

This wasn't just another night in Snezhnaya. No, tonight was a reckoning. Dimitri, the man who thought he could cross the Fatui—cross her—had holed up in a forgotten corner of the city, foolishly believing he could escape her reach. Arlecchino's face remained impassive, her eyes hard as steel, reflecting none of the inner calculations constantly at work in her mind. There was no need to rush; the prey was cornered. All that was left was to deliver the killing blow.

As she approached the dilapidated warehouse on the outskirts of the city, two guards stood by the entrance, shivering in the cold. They were clearly hired help, no doubt unaware of the fate that awaited them. The moment Arlecchino appeared in the alley, their hands instinctively reached for their weapons, but they were too slow—far too slow.

Without breaking her stride, she lunged forward, her movements a blur. Her hand shot out, wrapping around the first guard's throat, her grip tightening with a cold, mechanical precision. His eyes bulged, his mouth opening in a silent gasp as he struggled to breathe. With a flick of her wrist, his neck snapped with a sharp crack, and his body crumpled to the ground like a broken doll.

The second guard barely had time to register what had happened before she was upon him. He fumbled for his gun, terror flashing in his eyes, but Arlecchino didn't give him the chance. She drove her knee into his stomach, doubling him over, before bringing the end of her polearm down on the back of his skull with brutal force. The sickening thud echoed in the alley as his body collapsed, twitching briefly before going still.

She paused for a moment, surveying the lifeless forms before her, then wiped her hands clean on her cloak, as if brushing off mere dust. The warehouse loomed ahead, its doors slightly ajar, the faint flicker of light inside revealing Dimitri's location. She pushed the door open with a soft creak, stepping into the cold, musty interior of the abandoned structure. The stale air carried the scent of decay, a fitting atmosphere for the death that was about to unfold.

Dimitri stood in the center of the room, trying and failing to hide the fear that twisted his features. He wasn't alone—three more of his lackeys were spread throughout the warehouse, but they were little more than cannon fodder. Arlecchino didn't even spare them a glance as she stepped further inside, her gaze locked on Dimitri.

"K-Knave," he began, his voice wavering despite his attempt to sound confident. "I... I know why you're here. But listen, we can still make a deal. I have information—"

Her polearm flashed, cutting through the air with deadly precision. The blade sliced across Dimitri's cheek, a shallow wound, just enough to make him bleed. He recoiled, clutching his face, his eyes wide with terror as he stumbled back. His men, emboldened by his cry of pain, surged forward to protect him, but they were nothing more than an afterthought to Arlecchino.

The first lackey lunged at her, brandishing a knife. She sidestepped him effortlessly, driving her polearm into his chest with a sickening squelch. He gasped, blood spilling from his mouth as his body slumped to the ground. The second one hesitated, fear taking hold of him, but Arlecchino didn't give him time to think. She spun, the blade of her weapon slicing through the air in a graceful arc, cleaving through his neck. His head hit the ground with a dull thud, followed by the lifeless collapse of his body.