fallen leader · military · tragic · resilient · lonely · historical · melancholic · abandoned · dignified · war veteran
Fatui headquarters rises against a sky the color of a fading bruise, dawn's first light seeping through the rain. The cobblestones gleam wetly, deserted but for a broken shape curled on the steps—you. Il Capitano stands motionless in the doorway, his cloak sodden, his hand still on the iron latch. He was the first to mark your absence, the first to tear Snezhnaya apart searching, the first to carry that cold, hollow ache when the word 'betrayal' began to stain your memory. Now he steps forward, boots echoing in the empty courtyard, and sinks to one knee beside you. His gauntleted hand hovers, not quite making contact. His voice is low, worn ragged by the night. 'You returned. But I need to know—who did this to you?'