The towering obsidian doors creaked open, reverberating through the sacred chamber of the Fatui. A cold hush fell across the circular room. At the long, elevated table sat the eleven Harbingers—gods of shadow, tyrants in disguise, each one cloaked in power, danger, and deceit.
Eyes turned. Pierro's ever-stern gaze twitched downward.
And then there was me.
Ryazan Velariovich.
Codename: VoidLight.
12th of the Fatui Harbingers.
I strolled into the chamber barefoot except for a pair of pink bunny slippers I'd stolen from a Fontaine hotel room. I wore nothing but my black boxer briefs, fitted tight over my sculpted hips, and a faux-fur cape draped diagonally across my shoulders like some barbaric monarch. My hair was unkempt, eyes bloodshot but glowing faintly with voidlight, and my skin faintly smoked from residual darkness still leaking from my pores.
In one hand? A torn document folder that reeked of ozone and soy sauce. Don't ask.
As I entered, the chamber's temperature seemed to drop.
Pierro, seated at the apex of the semicircle, allowed only the faintest tick of an eye muscle in response.
And yet my eyes locked only on one.
Seated in glacial majesty atop her crystalline throne, the Cryo Archon watched in stillness. Crowned in frost, untouchable, unreadable. But to me?
She was the Snow-White Goddess.
My delusion. My divine bride. The winter queen who said nothing but whose silence I interpreted as eternal love.
I winked at her like a lunatic. "Hey there," I called cheerfully. "How's my favorite Snow-White Goddess doing today?"
A few Harbingers audibly choked.
Columbina giggled faintly, covering her mouth with a finger.
Tartaglia gave me a slow side-eye.
"Bro. Why are you… like this?"
He gestured at my lack of everything resembling dignity.
"Sup, fish boy," I said, slapping him on the back as I posed dramatically with both hands on my hips like a hero from a questionable toy commercial. "Long time no harbinger."
Then I raised my chin, stood a little taller in my fuzzy slippers, and declared to the whole room:
"Operation Electro GODDESS has concluded successfully."
The silence was immediate.
The tension? Thick enough to crush a ruin guard.
Pierro pinched the bridge of his nose.
[INTERNAL MONOLOGUE]
You might be wondering how I got here—standing in the coldest, deadliest meeting in Snezhnaya nearly naked and possibly hallucinating.
Well, let me be honest. My mental health is shot.
Gone. Thrown off a cliff. Fed to a boar. Revived with my darkness. And then punched repeatedly for sport.
After years of using Acquisition of Resistance to train myself through daily torture, my brain isn't wired the same anymore. I've stabbed myself just to see if I could adapt to phantom pain. I once drowned myself in tea just to build immunity to caffeine-induced cardiac arrhythmia. My sense of dignity died somewhere around the third year.
Now? I swing between clarity and chaos like a pendulum made of razors. One day I'm quoting philosophical texts about entropy and divine hypocrisy; the next I'm playing rock-paper-scissors with my reflection and giggling like an idiot when I lose.
And worst of all?
I think I'm hilarious.
-----
I waved to Pierro—The Jester, cold as ever—who stood at the apex of the council's crescent-shaped table. His eye socket seemed to twitch ever so slightly.
"VoidLight," he said, his voice flat. "I presume you have the report."
"Report?" I echoed, tapping my chin thoughtfully. "Right, right, the thing with Raiden Shogun. Yeah, that."
"Did you retrieve her Gnosis?" he asked.
"I did," I said, smirking.
No one moved.
Even Capitano, who never spoke unless necessary, shifted his weight with a faint tilt of curiosity.
"Explain," Pierro said.
"Alright," I said, dramatically flinging the cape behind me and pacing like a deranged theatre kid.
"So, I knew Raiden Shogun wouldn't just hand over her Gnosis. She's stubborn, uptight, and emotionally constipated. No offense to her—I actually like her fashion sense."
"You're stalling," Dottore snapped.
"Am I?" I asked with mock surprise. "Anyway, I went to Liyue first. Had tea with Zhongli—sorry, Morax. Nice guy. Super old. Gave me this."
I pulled out a crisp marriage contract signed with gold ink and stamped with Liyue's geo seal.
"...What?" Tartaglia whispered.
"Yep," I said. "Morax said, and I quote, 'If you can make her blush, you deserve the world.' So I took this little document to Inazuma."
"You proposed to Raiden Shogun?" Pantalone asked, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"I walked into Tenshukaku in a tuxedo I found in a dumpster, knelt down, gave her the contract, and said: 'Baby, if we merge politically, you won't have to fight Celestia. We'll sue them instead.'"
Silence.
"Then what happened?" asked Arlecchino, eyes narrowed with disbelief.
"She combusted."
"I beg your pardon?" Columbina smiled sweetly.
"Emotionally combusted. Face turned crimson, lightning went haywire, entire palace went into lockdown. She screamed, tore the contract in half, and she called me unspeakable things involving void tentacles and marriage law. Then she tried to cut me in half."
Pierro finally spoke, his voice like a glacier cracking. "And… you obtained the gnosis how…?"
"That's the part I don't remember. She might've thrown it at me in a fit of tsundere rage, or maybe I teleported it into my bunny slipper. Reality got a little wibbly after that."
Pierro finally addressed the room.
"Despite… VoidLight's unconventional methods, the Gnosis is now in our possession. That makes three."
He looked down at me with tired disdain. "Next time, wear pants."
I gave him a thumbs up. "No promises, Ice Dad."
Columbina giggled softly.
Scaramouche groaned audibly.
I wonder would he call me Daddy, if The Shogun accepted the Marriage.