Dottore's greatest creation, Y/n. You were a slave to the Fatui whose sole purpose was to serve and protect your master, Scaramouche.
What happens when Dottore's product isn't so flawless after all; when a single catastrophic defect in your system...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Turn around and I'll kill you." She cautioned, intentionally pricking you with the tip of the blade. You faked a wince and squeezed your eyes shut, covering your ears with the palm of your hands.
"Please don't hurt me." You begged, impersonating a frail woman.
The girl wasn't impressed by your performance, taking a deep breath in annoyance. "You're a robot, correct? That means you won't die easily with a simple stab."
So she knew.
There was no need to act anymore. Your entire body relaxed into its normal posture and you slowly rotated to face her. She tightened her grip on the weapon, now lining it with the side of your neck.
What struck you was her pale white sleeveless dress. The design told you she wasn't from here nor was she from Liyue. And those features. Blonde medium hair and golden-yellow eyes. They looked so familiar. You swore you've come across them before.
"Is there something I can help you with?" You asked in your habitual emotionless voice. There was probably a good reason as to why she solely targeted you and not Scaramouche.
Her face instantly scrunched up as if she just remembered something foul. You felt the sword slightly penetrate your skin and split it to a minimal. Small drops of black liquid leaked from the cut but you showed no fret.
Those merciless eyes of hers glared deep into your soulless ones, resisting the urge to slaughter you right here and now. "Touch my brother again and I'll kill you without hesitation. Or maybe even better. I'll kill that Fatui boy you're with."
Did she forget how capably independent harbingers are? Scaramouche didn't need to depend on an AI. Hell, he knew it and so did everyone else. Keeping you around was only beneficial to his dirty work.
"Don't be mistaken." You sighed, detaching the blade like it was a small push pin. "He can do fine on his own."
She clenched her jaw, retracting the sword and making it dissipate into thin air. What did she really expect? Threatening you, a mindless robot, with death was pointless.
