#imposter au

Summary: Y/N wakes in Teyvat, only to be branded an imposter by those they once worshiped. Forced to serve the false god who stole their identity, they endure in silence — until one small mistake reveals a divine truth no one was ready to see.

Part 25.5 (previous)

Disclaimer: Some parts of this story may not follow the official Genshin story logic. The traveller is not in this story. Please enjoy it with an open mind!

The moment the ship docked, Scaramouche was already regretting every decision that had led him here.

The journey had been long. The weather had been terrible. The sea had been worse.

His head still throbbed faintly, and though he would never admit it out loud, the voyage had left him thoroughly seasick. Even now, standing on solid ground, it felt like the deck was still shifting beneath his feet.

Romaritime Harbor greeted him with chaos. Vendors shouted over one another. Workers hauled crates across the docks. Travelers crowded every open space, and the sunlight, far too bright for his liking, glared off the water and somehow still managed to slip under the brim of his hat.

Scaramouche pressed two fingers to his temple as he scanned the harbor, already irritated.

“I hate this nation already,” he muttered as his eyes landed on a nearby newspaper stand. He walked over, grabbing a paper from the stack.

"CREATOR-RECOMMENDED CAFÉ THIS WEEK."

His eye twitched. Without another glance, he dropped the paper back onto the stand and looked around. There had to be a map. Or someone useful. Preferably both. His gaze landed on a nearby Melusine officer. Perfect. He walked straight over.

“I need directions to the Creator,” Scaramouche said.

The Melusine looked up at him, blinking. “The Creator?”

“Yes,” he replied flatly.

“The one residing in the Palais Mermonia?” she clarified.

Scaramouche sighed. “How many Creators do you think there are?”

“Well… if you wish to meet Her Grace, you’ll need an appointment, mister—” she began.

“How?” he cut in.

“You’ll need to submit a formal request at the administrative office on its first level,” the Melusine explained.

He sighed for the second time.

Forty minutes later, he was holding an absurdly long form. At some point, Scaramouche stopped reading and just started filling in whatever came to mind.

An hour later, he was finally at the front of the queue. The clerk took the papers with an overly polite smile. “Thank you for your submission.”

Scaramouche waited. “…And?”

“We will now begin processing your request.”

“And?”

“The estimated waiting time is five to seven working days.” The clerk kept smiling.

Something inside Scaramouche quietly snapped. He turned around and walked out without another word. He slipped into a quiet alley around the back of the building, finally out of sight of the main pathway, and tilted his head up.

“…Let’s make this quick.” Anemo gathered around him. The air stirred. And then he was gone.

Three seconds later, his presence had already been detected.

“YOU THERE!”

Scaramouche didn’t stop.

“STOP IN THE NAME OF THE LAW!”

Below him, Gardes were crowding around, pointing upward.

“UNAUTHORIZED AERIAL TRAVEL IS PROHIBITED!”

He glanced down, visibly unimpressed. “Are you serious?”

“The Aerial Transportation Regulation Act!” someone shouted, waving a thick handbook like it was evidence. Scaramouche exhaled through his nose and kept flying upwards. Eventually, they would get tired and leave him alone. Probably.

Several floors above, you were finally having your well-deserved nap.

For once, everything was quiet. No meetings. No appearances. No Furina hovering around 24/7. You were having your first real break in two weeks.

The peace lasted all of ten minutes.

Then came the sound of rapid gunfire.

Your eyes snapped open, your first sight meeting the decorated ceiling above. For several seconds, you remained motionless beneath the sheets. Surely that had been part of a nightmare. You closed your eyes again.

More shots erupted, followed by distant shouting.

You slowly sat upright. Is Fontaine being invaded?

The noise continued.

With a groan, you dragged yourself out of bed, wrapping the duvet around your pajamas like a cloak before shuffling toward the balcony. Honestly, whoever designed this suite must have had a personal vendetta against you. That balcony of yours attracted too much attention.

You rubbed your eyes before stepping outside. Even from this distance, that ridiculous hat was unmistakable. Scaramouche hovered above, completely unfazed, while the Gardes below fired warning shots like it was part of their daily routine. Of course it was him. Who else would it be?

You leaned over the railing.

“Scaramouche! Over here!” You shouted over the noise.

He paused.

And somehow, despite everything surrounding him, he heard you. He turned around, already moving toward you.

A second later—

BAM!

Your door exploded inward. Wood flew across the room. The handle embedded itself in the far wall. Wriothesley stood in the doorway, with several Gardes behind him. You stared at the wreckage, hoping it would not be charged to your already-existing debt account.

Wriothesley didn’t even look at you. He was already walking over, heading toward Scaramouche, who had dropped beside you. He grabbed Scaramouche, yanked his arm back, and snapped cuffs onto his wrist.

“You’re under arrest,” he said flatly, “for unauthorized aerial travel.”

Silence.

You paused in disbelief. “…You’re joking.”

Scaramouche ignored the cuffs entirely. Instead, his glare lingered on you, as if this was somehow still your fault.

Part 27 coming soon~

Okay so. Do you remember like a little over a year ago when grian and co played 3d among us and tango 3rd impostered with jimmy. And everyone in the rancher fandom collectively lost their minds.

I didnt watch what actually happened there until like, several months later and it immediately gave me so many brain worms i had to make an au. Cafe can confirm I went absolutely insane about it while watching. (like what the actual fuck was even that bit oh my goodness everything about it was so ????? hello?????? anyways.)

Basically, it's an among us au!! yay!! Except i cannot be normal about anything to do with space ever so there will be copious amounts of worldbuilding. In terms of plot and character progression it’s some of my best work ever. I have one like, “act”, if you want to call it that, entirely plotted and fleshed out already, which has pretty much never happened before. It is suuuch a fun au for so many reasons and i love it so dearly.

Summary: Y/N wakes in Teyvat, only to be branded an imposter by those they once worshiped. Forced to serve the false god who stole their identity, they endure in silence — until one small mistake reveals a divine truth no one was ready to see.

Part 25 (previous) Part 26 (next)

This is a short segment I thought of a few minutes ago. Please don’t ask me how Childe traveled so quickly from Fontaine to Snezhnaya 😂

The meeting room of Zapolyarny Palace was unusually lively.

No weapons had been drawn yet, which by Harbinger standards counted as a productive meeting.

At the head of the long table sat Pierro, silent as ever. His imposing presence alone was enough to keep most arguments from escalating.

Around him sat the remaining Harbingers.

Pantalone wore the smile of a man thoroughly enjoying himself.

Capitano remained as still as a statue.

Arlecchino sat with her arms crossed, her expression unreadable.

Pulcinella sipped his tea.

Sandrone stared blankly ahead.

And Childe looked as though he was one poorly timed comment away from bursting into laughter.

The topic of today's meeting was obvious.

Dottore.

Or more specifically, Dottore's spectacular failure.

Nobody openly stared at him.

"So," Pantalone began pleasantly, folding his hands together. "I believe we've finally received Her Majesty's response regarding the incident."

"The situation was considerably more complicated than the reports suggest," Dottore replied.

A snort escaped Childe.

"Yes, I'm sure Her Majesty was very understanding of your explanation."

Dottore slowly turned toward him.

The urge to conduct experiments on his fellow Harbinger had never been stronger.

"Would you care to elaborate on your own contributions, Tartaglia?" Dottore retorted.

"I'm working on it," Childe replied immediately. "Unlike some people, I haven't managed to lose the Creator yet."

A dangerous silence settled over the room.

Arlecchino's gaze shifted toward the ginger-haired Harbinger.

Before any of them could continue, Pierro spoke.

"Enough."

He reached for a sealed document resting on the table. The Tsaritsa's personal seal gleamed against the parchment. He broke the seal and unfolded the letter.

"'As a result of Dottore's failure to follow my instructions and his continued inability to establish favorable relations with the Creator, he is hereby removed from this assignment effective immediately.'"

Several Harbingers glanced toward Dottore.

His expression darkened considerably.

Pierro continued.

"'The responsibility of maintaining contact shall instead be transferred to Tartaglia.'"

Childe blinked.

Then sat up straighter.

"Oh?"

Dottore looked murderous.

Pierro continued reading.

"'Any further interactions are to be conducted with respect, discretion, and diplomacy.'"

The room remained silent as Pierro lowered the document.

"You can't do that," Dottore snapped.

"I was this close."

"If you have an issue with Her Majesty's decision," Pierro said calmly as he folded the document shut, "you may raise it with her personally."

Dottore's jaw tightened.

"Tartaglia is hardly the most suitable choice among us," Arlecchino remarked, folding her arms.

Pierro's gaze shifted toward her.

"You already made a poor first impression, and you attacked Fontaine's Chief Justice," he replied. "You are not exactly favored in Fontaine at the moment."

Arlecchino gestured toward Childe.

"And you consider Tartaglia a good first impression?"

Childe looked offended.

"I can behave."

No one acknowledged him.

"Her Majesty's orders remain unchanged."

Pierro rose from his seat.

"Dismissed."

Chairs scraped against the floor as the Harbingers stood.

The meeting had lasted less than an hour.

Somewhere far away in Fontaine, meanwhile, the Creator remained blissfully unaware that the Fatui Harbingers had just spent an entire meeting debating which of them was least likely to scare them away.

Part 26

Summary: Y/N wakes in Teyvat, only to be branded an imposter by those they once worshiped. Forced to serve the false god who stole their identity, they endure in silence — until one small mistake reveals a divine truth no one was ready to see.

Part 24 (previous) Part 25.5 (next)

Disclaimer: Some parts of this story may not follow the official Genshin story logic. The traveller is not in this story. Please enjoy it with an open mind!

Morning arrived far too quickly.

You had seriously considered sleeping in to avoid breakfast with THE Neuvillette. Although that would be far too rude considering he was technically hosting your stay.

The dining hall was absurdly elegant. Sunlight spilled through towering windows, glimmering across polished silver cutlery and pristine porcelain.

At the far end of the table, Neuvillette sat with impeccable posture, one gloved hand resting beside a porcelain teacup.

“…Good morning,” you offered cautiously.

“Good morning,” Neuvillette replied with a polite nod.

You sat down carefully.

“How was your rest?” Neuvillette asked calmly.

Events from last night immediately flashed through your mind.

“…It was alright,” you answered, looking down at your breakfast sandwich while poking through the poached egg with your fork.

You hesitated to tell him what had occurred the night before.

You had barely persuaded him to lower the number of guards around you. If you told Neuvillette about last night, you would never be alone again.

On the other hand… it could also lead to fewer public appearances. That was tempting.

“…Is something troubling you?” Neuvillette asked.

“Nope, all good.” You smiled weakly.

Neuvillette regarded you for a moment longer than was comfortable.

Before he could respond, the dining room doors suddenly swung open.

“Good morning, everyone!” Furina announced loudly as she swept into the room. An assistant followed quietly behind her.

A yawn interrupted the middle of Furina’s greeting. She covered it with one hand, blinking sleepily before immediately recovering her composure.

“…Ahem. As I was saying.” She lifted her chin with dignity. “Good morning.”

She dropped into the seat beside you, immediately reaching for cake.

“Lady Furina. Monsieur Neuvillette.” The assistant bowed politely before turning toward you. “Your Grace.”

The assistant began carefully distributing papers across the table.

“Today’s schedule has been finalized,” she explained professionally. “The morning begins with a formal audience at the Hotel Debord regarding restoration funding for the Banque du Nord district. You will also be having tea with several prominent Fontaine investors.”

Your expression slowly dulled.

“Then a brief appearance at the Court of Fontaine for the unveiling of Your Grace’s official portrait, which will later be displayed within the central hall of the Palais Mermonia.”

“—followed by a sit-down interview with The Steambird regarding Fontaine’s future relations with the Creator—”

Your eggs benedict suddenly seemed less appetizing. You instead picked up one of the neatly stacked newspapers arranged at the center of the table. Beneath the headlines were several photographs from yesterday. Honestly… the photos were not terrible.

The styling team had somehow managed to make you look significantly healthier. No dark circles. No sleep-deprived rat nest of hair. Soft lighting framed the images elegantly while the glittering Fontaine outfits somehow appeared regal.

You reached behind your back and picked up the stack of letters you had written the night before.

“Could these be sent to Sumeru?” you requested.

The assistant accepted them. “Of course.”

You were fairly certain Scaramouche was going to develop a headache reading yours.

~Hotel Debord~

Elegant nobles drifted through the grand hall wrapped in expensive silks and polished jewelry. Investors and merchants clustered around marble tables beneath glittering chandeliers while musicians played softly somewhere in the background.

You sat beside Furina near the center of it all, smiling politely while your mind was only partially present. You wondered what you wanted for lunch.

“With the Creator’s blessing upon the restoration efforts,” Furina said smoothly, crossing one leg elegantly, “public confidence has already increased considerably. And what greater reassurance could there possibly be than the Creator choosing to remain within our nation?”

Several investors nodded enthusiastically.

One investor turned toward you eagerly. “Your Grace, do you have any thoughts regarding Fontaine’s future economic prosperity?”

“Your Grace,” Furina repeated through a tight smile while nudging your ankle beneath the table.

You blinked, snapping out of your thoughts. Why were these people asking you complicated questions? You had not even graduated before getting dragged into this world!

“…Yes, please go ahead with your plans,” you answered.

Furina made a strangled noise beside you that sounded suspiciously like suppressed laughter. The investors somehow looked satisfied anyway.

The discussion quickly devolved into trade routes. Your attention drifted again.

“Excuse me,” you interrupted softly after a while. “I just need some fresh air.”

Furina glanced toward you immediately.

“Are you alright?” she asked quietly, her voice lowering from her earlier theatrics.

“Yeah,” you assured quickly. “Please continue.” You offered the people a reassuring smile before escaping the room before anyone could stop you.

The upper balconies of the Opera Epiclese overlooked Fontaine’s shining waters below. Sunlight danced across the canals while distant voices echoed softly through the marble halls.

You leaned against the railing with a quiet exhale.

Peace.

“…You know, I imagined our first proper conversation going a little differently.”

You nearly jumped out of your skin.

Childe stood nearby looking entirely relaxed. Hands tucked loosely into his pockets, scarf shifting lightly in the breeze, bright blue eyes studying you.

“How did you even get in here?” you hissed.

“Through the front entrance. For brunch obviously” Childe tilted his head innocently.

“You look disappointed,” he remarked.

“I was hoping security in Fontaine was more competent,” you muttered. “Shouldn’t your face be plastered across every wall in Fontaine by now?”

“Ouch.” He pressed a hand dramatically against his chest. “That hurt.”

“What do you want?” You crossed your arms warily.

“Relax,” Childe added. “If I wanted to kidnap you, this conversation would be going very differently.”

He leaned casually against the railing beside you.

“Dottore’s report claimed one of his subordinates mishandled you and accidentally left your cell unlocked aboard the ship,” he noted. “According to him, that’s how you escaped.”

You stared at him flatly.

“But considering your little outburst with Arlecchino…” Childe grinned slightly. “I’m guessing he lied.”

“Hah. I can’t wait for the next meeting,” he mused. "It's going to be entertaining.”

You had specifically come out onto the balcony for peace and quiet. Unfortunately, it seemed this area was no better. You pushed yourself off the railing.

“But the Tsaritsa does wish to have your presence in Snezhnaya eventually,” Childe called after you. “I assure you she means no harm despite your… unfortunate first experiences with some of the Fatui.”

You ignored him, slamming the glass door shut directly in his face.

Part 25.5

Summary: Y/N wakes in Teyvat, only to be branded an imposter by those they once worshiped. Forced to serve the false god who stole their identity, they endure in silence — until one small mistake reveals a divine truth no one was ready to see.

Part 23 (previous) Part 25 (next)

Disclaimer: Some parts of this story may not follow the official Genshin story logic. The traveller is not in this story. Please enjoy it with an open mind!

You could say Fontaine was a nation that took pride in how news traveled fast than anywhere else.

“They say the Hydro Dragon protected them personally.”

“No, no, the Knave tried to assassinate them.”

“Didn’t they destroy the Banque du Nord?”

“I heard they escaped prison.”

“I heard they were a gang leader in prison.”

Vendors shouted headlines from every street corner while newspapers vanished almost as quickly as they were printed. Artists had already begun selling wildly inaccurate sketches of you near the Fountain of Lucine. One portrayed you with six glowing wings. Another had somehow given you Neuvillette’s hair.

Children ran through the streets pretending to throw imaginary divine powers at each other.

Meanwhile, inside the Palais Mermonia—

“No.”

Furina gasped dramatically. “What do you mean no?!”

“I mean no,” you repeated, staring at the outfit laid across the sofa in absolute horror. “Why is there so much glitter and jewels on one piece of clothing? I’ll look like a blinding spotlight the second I step into the sun.”

“Because you are making a public appearance at the Opera Epiclese,” Furina replied as though explaining simply as those you were a child. “Your current wardrobe is quite dreadful.”

Furina clapped her hands once. Two attendants carefully approached you with the caution.

“Enough! We are already behind schedule,” Furina declared. “Now stand up straight. Look dignified. And for the love of Archons, stop looking like you’re attending your own execution.”

At the Opera Epiclese

The roar of the crowd filled the hall instantly the moment you stepped onto the stage. The entire opera house was packed beyond capacity. Noble families. Reporters. Citizens. Melusines. Several Gardes lined the upper balconies.

Lights shimmered across the massive stage as Furina stepped forward first, posture flawless as always.

“My dear people!” she declared, her voice echoing magnificently through the hall. “I, Furina de Fontaine, on behalf of everyone here hereby welcome the Creator to our nation of Hydro!”

Thunderous applause erupted instantly. You resisted the urge to immediately turn around and leave.

“Oh, to grace us with your presence at our historic Opera Epiclese and arrive with such an… unforgettable bang,” Furina continued smoothly, “we shall rejoice in this occasion for years to come!”

Somewhere far in front of you, Wriothesley coughed suspiciously into his fist.

“And today, unlike no other,” Furina announced grandly, throwing one arm toward the illuminated stage, “we have the illustrious jewel of Fontaine’s stage, whose voice shall honor us tonight and show our esteemed guest what Fontaine is truly made of!”

That was your cue. You immediately speed-walked off the stage before anyone could stop you. Furina’s eye twitched slightly as the audience watched you practically flee toward your designated seat.

The curtains lifted fully. The singer stepped forward gracefully as the orchestra began to play. The performance swelled beautifully beneath the glowing lights of the Opera Epiclese, music cascading through the hall like water itself.

You glanced around. Furina sat quietly beside you, visibly pleased.

Neuvillette remained composed as always in his opera box, though his attention occasionally shifted toward the audience instead of the performance, carefully observing their expressions.

The moment the performance ended, Furina spun toward you with terrifying energy.

“Wonderful! Splendid! Excellent!” she proclaimed. “Now, quickly—we’re late for the restaurant opening!”

“Why?” You stared at her. “Isn’t there another performance? It seems rude to leave so suddenly.”

“For the special commemorative menu unveiling, obviously.” Furina ignored you completely and grabbed your wrist before you could escape.

“Come along! There’s also a small photo-op,” Furina exclaimed.

“Small?” you murmured faintly from behind her. “How small is it exactly?”

The new restaurant had created an entire dessert line inspired by you. Another unveiled a drink called Creator’s Blessing that glittered suspiciously. At one point, Furina had somehow convinced you to pose with your drink while three different painters attempted to capture your “divine elegance.”

Summary: Y/N wakes in Teyvat, only to be branded an imposter by those they once worshiped. Forced to serve the false god who stole their identity, they endure in silence — until one small mistake reveals a divine truth no one was ready to see.

Part 22 (previous) Part 24 (next)

Disclaimer: Some parts of this story may not follow the official Genshin story logic. The traveller is not in this story. Please enjoy it with an open mind!

Palais Mermonia

Across from you, Neuvillette’s attention was fixed on the tall windows, his gaze resting somewhere far beyond the city below.

To your left, Wriothesley leaned back against the sofa with his arms crossed, expression unreadable beneath the dim golden light of the office.

You took another slow sip of tea, unwilling to be the one to start the conversation.

The warmth settled in your throat as you tried not to think about the Fortress of Meropide. The strange routine you had somehow grown used to. You missed it.

Furina abruptly stood up. “Alright, I can’t take this anymore.”

Her chair scraped lightly against the floor as she strode forward with theatrical purpose, blue-and-white sleeves swaying dramatically behind her.

“Voilà!” She revealed a cake with the flourish of someone unveiling a national treasure.

“I brought this for this very special occasion,” she announced proudly, holding it up before carefully placing it onto the table between all of you.

The frosting was elaborate. Excessively so. There were decorative sugar pearls. You were fairly certain parts of it glittered.

Furina straightened. “It’s not every day the creator grace us with her presence.”

“Even though your first visit to Fontaine was our unescapable Fortress of Meropide.” She forced out a laugh.

“Ha ha—” It died almost immediately when no one joined in.

Silence reclaimed the room.

Furina slowly lowered herself back into her seat.

“…Tough audience,” she muttered under her breath.

Wriothesley rubbed at his temple.

“In fairness,” he said dryly, “there was an escape, a lockdown, and several ongoing investigations. It was a busy time. Things could have gotten mixed up in the middle of it all. You have my apologies.”

He paused before adding, “But you also could have spoken up.”

“Yes, I could have…” you admitted carefully.

Wriothesley raised an eyebrow, clearly waiting for you to continue.

Instead, you quietly took a bite of the strawberry-flavored cake.

His stare sharpened. “…That’s all you’re giving me?”

You swallowed slowly. “It’s very good cake.”

Furina looked deeply pleased by that response.

Neuvillette finally spoke. “It is going to take a considerable time to rebuild the Banque du Nord,”

He continued “Current estimates place the damages at approximately four hundred thousand mora.”

His gaze settled specifically on you.

You immediately coughed on your tea as it went down the wrong windpipe.

Four hundred thousand—

You stared at him in horror.

Surely he wasn’t implying—

You had no mora.

Actually, correction: you had prison coupons.

Could those be exchanged somehow to mora?

Maybe the whole “Creator” thing came with immunity. Surely.

Neuvillette shattered that hope instantly.

“Since the incident was partially your fault,” he remarked, “it is only reasonable that you contribute toward reparations in some capacity.”

You straightened slowly, trying to recover what little dignity remained.

“…Respectfully,” you croaked, “I feel like a few other people also contributed to the destruction.”

“The initial confrontation began because of your confession,” Neuvillette replied.

You grimaced.

“I don’t have four hundred thousand mora.”

Furina suddenly perked up.

“Oh! That's where I come in.” she exclaimed brightly, pointing toward you with her cake fork. “You could make up for it through appearances.”

You blinked. “…Appearances?”

“Yes!” Furina leaned forward enthusiastically. “Supporting Fontaine’s local theaters, performances, and public events—”

Your expression slowly flattened. “I’ve heard enough.”

Furina ignored you completely.

“Imagine it! Public appearances alongside Fontaine’s beloved figures, such as the great Furina de Fontaine.”

“Oh, this should be good,” Wriothesley muttered, visibly amused.

“We need something positive for the people to focus on,” Furina continued dramatically. “Especially after all that destruction!”

“You could attend plays, endorse performances, perhaps appear at the Opera Epiclese—”

“Absolutely not.”

“—possibly a formal interview—”

“No.”

“—charity galas—”

“Furina.”

“—limited commemorative merchandise—”

“You cannot commercialize me,” you said in disbelief.

“You say that like people would not willingly buy it.” Furina crossed her arms defensively.

You dropped your face into your hands with a long-suffering sigh.

“This is a nightmare.”

Neuvillette finally stepped in.

“While Lady Furina’s methods are… unconventional,” he elaborated on carefully, “public reassurance may indeed become necessary. And under the current circumstances, this may be the most effective way for you to compensate Fontaine.”

Wriothesley looked far too entertained by your suffering.

Furina clasped her hands together excitedly.

“Oh, you are absolutely going to love this.”

Part 24

Summary: Y/N wakes in Teyvat, only to be branded an imposter by those they once worshiped. Forced to serve the false god who stole their identity, they endure in silence — until one small mistake reveals a divine truth no one was ready to see.

Part 21 (previous) Part 23 (next)

Disclaimer: Some parts of this story may not follow the official Genshin story logic. The traveller is not in this story. Please enjoy it with an open mind!

You stood at the edge of the lift platform as it locked into place with a heavy clang, the sound echoing once before dissolving into the wind.

“Problem?” Wriothesley’s voice came from behind you. You blinked and forced yourself forward. “No.”

Above you, the sky stretched endlessly, pale and clouded. Light diffused into a dull silver sheen across the water. Salt hung faintly in the air.

“Stay close,” one of the guards muttered.

Ahead, the Banque du Nord rose into view, polished stone and tall glass windows, immaculate with several guards positioned around it.

“You’ll walk us through what happened,” Wriothesley said, opening the door with a quiet push.

A woman stood there. Medium-length white hair streaked with black. Unmistakably dangerous. You gulped hard; she looked even more imposing in person than she ever did on screen.

“Everything is ready. You should be grateful we’ve even allowed you the grace to waste our time on this.” Arlecchino said coolly, her lips curling into something almost like a sneer.

“And Fontaine is grateful for your cooperation,” another voice added from behind her.

Your eyes flicked to a tall figure behind her. Pale skin. Long white hair with blue streak, dressed in unmistakably Fontaine-style attire.

Your soul practically left your body. You immediately dropped your gaze to the polished floor, suddenly fascinated by how painfully reflective it was. Your own reflection stared back, warped by panic.

Great. Your first impression with the Chief Justice, aka the Hydro Dragon Sovereign, was an absolute disaster.

“Right. Yes. I—” You gestured vaguely forward, as if that would help. “We would have entered through the front.”

Silence stretched. You winced internally. You sounded pathetic. How are you supposed to lie your way through this?

You didn’t know who 'Ismaine accomplices' were. You didn’t know where the hidden money was. None of this had even existed in the quest events you had played before. Your mind scrambled for anything.

Your gaze darted across the room, searching for any detail that might help you piece together something believable. Counters. Vault access corridors. Security terminals. Nothing that meant anything to you.

“…Go on,” Arlecchino stated flatly.

Your pulse quickened.

Think. Think. THINK.

Suddenly, you had a brilliant idea. A completely idiotic, borderline suicidal idea. But at this point, what could possibly go wrong?