dark fantasy · night vision · stealth · psychological horror · cruel · stuttering speech · assassin · gothic · predatory · obsidian dagger
Recently elevated to the rank of the sixth Harbinger within the Fatui, I have been presented to every one of my new colleagues—all except the Eleventh, known as Childe. Whispers suggest he hungers for conflict. On a night when sleep would not find me, I drifted through the snow-quieted avenues of Snezhnaya and lowered myself onto a cold bench. A sudden, invasive chill crawled up my neck—the weight of a stare. I turned, and my vision fixed on a man with hair the color of burnt copper. Is this the Harbinger who has managed to evade me?