Sleep did not come easily. When I finally drifted off in the deepest hours of the morning, my dreams were a chaotic tapestry of dark warehouses, the terrified light of caged slimes, and the cold, calculating smile of a Captain who saw the world as a grand chessboard. I awoke before the dawn, not from the ringing of an alarm, but from a quiet, insistent knock on my door. It was a junior knight, his face grim in the pre-dawn gloom. "Knight Arthur," he said, his voice a respectful whisper. "Grand Master Varka requests your presence. Immediately."
The walk to the headquarters was surreal. The streets of Mondstadt were empty and silent, washed in the cool, grey light that precedes the sunrise. The familiar, cheerful city felt like a stranger, its slumbering form hiding the dark cancer I had uncovered.
I was escorted not to Kaeya's office, but to the Grand Master's personal strategy room. It was a place I had only ever seen from the outside—a high-ceilinged chamber dominated by a round table made of dark, polished oak. Maps lined the walls, and the air smelled of old wood, beeswax, and the faint, sharp scent of ozone, a tell-tale sign of a Vision user's agitation.
Grand Master Varka stood before a large map of the city, his usual relaxed posture gone, replaced by the rigid stance of a general on the eve of battle. Captain Kaeya was at his side, his arms crossed, his single eye fixed on the map with cold intensity. To my surprise, a third person was already present. Jean stood near the table, her hands clasped behind her back, her expression a mixture of shock, anger, and a steely resolve that I knew all too well. Her eyes met mine as I entered, and in them I saw a dawning understanding. My "boring inventory check" was a lie, and this was the reason why.
"Arthur," Varka said, his voice a low rumble that filled the room. "Thank you for coming at such an hour." He gestured to the table. "Captain Kaeya has given me his full report on your reconnaissance mission. He has also… recommended your inclusion in this council."
The unspoken meaning was clear. This was highly unusual. A brand-new knight, barely a man grown, being brought into the highest level of strategic planning. It was a sign of the severity of the situation and of the trust Kaeya was placing in me.
"Captain," Varka commanded. "Summarize for Knight Jean."
Kaeya's voice was crisp and devoid of its usual lazy charm as he laid out my findings. He spoke of the secret lab, the Fatui Skirmishers, the imprisoned elemental beings, and the captured informant. He detailed the purpose of the ley line destabilizer and, finally, he mentioned its connection to the Harbinger, The Doctor.
As Jean listened, her face grew paler. The sheer audacity of the Fatui operating with such malice, right here in the heart of Mondstadt, was a deep, personal insult to everything she stood for. When Kaeya finished, she turned to me, her blue-grey eyes filled not with accusation for my deception, but with a fierce, protective fire. "Arthur… you went in there alone?"
"It was a reconnaissance mission, Jean," I said softly. "Stealth was the priority."
"He performed his duties flawlessly," Kaeya interjected, his voice leaving no room for argument. "And his intelligence has given us a priceless opportunity."
Varka slammed a mailed fist onto the table, the sound echoing like a thunderclap. "An act of war. Nothing less. To conduct such vile experiments on our soil, to plot the destabilization of our nation… the Tsaritsa has gone too far this time. We must respond."
"A full-frontal assault is out of the question, Grand Master," Kaeya said coolly. "It would lead to an open conflict with Snezhnaya, a war we cannot afford. The Fatui would deny everything, claim the warehouse was rented by a third party, and paint us as the aggressors. We cannot fall into that trap."
"So we do nothing?" Jean asked, her voice tight with indignation.
"No," Kaeya replied, a sharp, predatory smile finally touching his lips. "We do not do nothing. We do what the 8th Company does best. We perform a surgical strike. We cut the cancer out before the body even knows we made an incision."
He laid out his plan. A small, elite team would infiltrate the warehouse during the mid-day lull, when the clamor of the busy docks would provide the best acoustic cover. Their objectives were clear and prioritized.
"Objective one: Rescue my informant, Elias. He is our top priority. Objective two: Secure the destabilizer device. We must study it to understand its workings and prepare for future threats. Objective three: Neutralize the Fatui agents. Non-lethal force is to be used if at all possible. We want prisoners for interrogation, not martyrs for a diplomatic incident. Objective four: Liberate the captured elemental life forms. We will not allow their energies to be further desecrated."
"And the team?" Varka asked.
"I will lead," Kaeya stated. "I'll take two of my most seasoned operatives, Roscher and Vile. And I will need Arthur."
All eyes turned to me. "His knowledge of the layout is invaluable," Kaeya explained. "More than that, his Anemo abilities are uniquely suited for this operation. He can provide crowd control without the wide-scale destruction of a Pyro or Geo Vision. He can maneuver in tight spaces. And his… sensitivity… will be our best tool for locating and disabling that device safely."
Varka stroked his chin, his gaze heavy. "He is young, Kaeya."
"He is capable, Grand Master. He has already proven that," Kaeya countered.
Varka looked at me, a silent question in his eyes. I stood straighter. "I am ready to serve, Grand Master."
He nodded, a final decision made. "Very well. Jean," he said, turning to her. "You will not be on the strike team. Your duty is here. You will coordinate with the patrol captains to create a subtle cordon around the docks. No one gets in or out without being noted. If Captain Kaeya's team requires extraction, you will be their lifeline. This is a command responsibility, and I expect you to perform it with distinction."
Jean's disappointment at being left out of the action was visible, but it was immediately replaced by a look of focused determination. "Yes, Grand Master. I will not fail you."
The council was dismissed. We had our plan. As we walked out of the strategy room, the first rays of dawn were breaking over the city. Jean pulled me aside in the empty hallway.
"Arthur," she said, her voice low. "I understand why you couldn't tell me the truth yesterday. I understand the need for secrecy in your company." She placed a hand on my arm, her grip firm. "But that doesn't stop me from worrying. This is dangerous. More dangerous than anything we faced as trainees."
"I know, Jean," I said, meeting her earnest gaze. "But it has to be done. We can't let them threaten our home."
"Just… come back," she whispered, her composure finally cracking for a fraction of a second. "That's an order."
I nodded, a lump forming in my throat. "Yes, ma'am."
I found Eula later that morning near the city gates, looking thoroughly displeased as she returned from a fruitless night patrol. She took one look at my face and her eyes narrowed.
"Don't even try to lie to me, Arthur," she said, crossing her arms. "You look like you're about to try and fight Andrius with your bare hands. There's a storm brewing behind your eyes. This isn't another 'inventory check,' is it?"
I couldn't tell her the truth, but I couldn't bring myself to lie to her again. "It's a mission, Eula. A serious one."
Her expression shifted from suspicion to a grudging respect. "Hmph. About time the Captain stopped wasting your talents. See that you handle it with distinction. It would be… inconvenient… if my primary rival were to be bested by some common thugs." It was her own unique, roundabout way of saying 'be safe'.
"I'll do my best not to disappoint you," I said. "Wish me luck."
She held my gaze for a long moment before giving a single, sharp nod. "The strong do not need luck. They make their own. Now go. Your brooding is ruining the morning air."
At precisely mid-day, our four-man team assembled near the docks. Kaeya was joined by Roscher, a tall, silent man with a crossbow, and Vile, a wiry woman with a pair of wicked-looking daggers. They moved with the quiet confidence of seasoned professionals. Kaeya gave me a final, appraising look. "Nervous?"
"Focused," I corrected.
"Good." He smiled. "Let's go to work."
We didn't bother with stealthy entries this time. We approached the warehouse side door, and on Kaeya's signal, I unleashed a powerful Palm Vortex. The compressed blast of wind hit the door like a battering ram, ripping it from its hinges and sending it flying into the warehouse. We stormed in, moving as one unit.
The two Fatui guards on the main floor were caught completely by surprise. Before they could even raise their weapons, Roscher had put a sleep-inducing crossbow bolt in one's shoulder, and Vile had swept the legs out from under the other, disarming him in a single fluid motion. Kaeya tapped the second guard with a burst of Cryo, encasing his hands and feet in thick ice. The entire confrontation took less than five seconds.
We reached the trapdoor. It was sealed. "Arthur," Kaeya commanded.
I focused, summoning a sharp, drilling vortex of wind and slamming it into the lock mechanism. With a screech of tortured metal, the lock shattered. We descended into the torchlit lab.
The scene was as I remembered it, but this time, they were ready for us. The Cryo Gunner and Electrohammer Vanguard stood before the cages and the destabilizer, their weapons glowing with elemental energy.
"Knights of Favonius! You are interfering with official Snezhnayan business!" the Cryo Gunner yelled.
"Your 'business' in Mondstadt is over," Kaeya replied coldly, his own sword appearing in his hand in a flash of ice. "Glacial Waltz!"
He blurred into motion, a dance of deadly grace. He wasn't just fighting; he was controlling the battlefield, leaving trails of frost on the ground to trip and slow the heavy-footed Vanguard. Roscher and Vile engaged the Cryo Gunner, their movements a blur of coordinated strikes, forcing him onto the defensive.
This left me with a clear objective. But the elemental energy in the room was thick and chaotic, making it difficult to approach the destabilizer. The caged slimes and the Whopperflower were pulsing with fear, throwing the ambient energy into disarray.
I realized then that this chaotic energy was exactly what I needed. It was a wellspring of power, a "significant Anemo source" born of trapped wind. Closing my eyes for a second, I reached out to it, not with force, but with a plea for harmony.
My System flared.
[Proximity to significant, concentrated Anemo source detected.]
[Harmonization requirements for [Cyclone Field] have been met.]
[Elemental Burst: UNLOCKED]
"Kaeya, get clear!" I yelled.
I thrust my hand forward, and for the first time, unleashed my Elemental Burst. A swirling vortex of pure Anemo energy erupted in the center of the room. It wasn't a wild storm, but a controlled, powerful cyclone. The pull was immense, dragging the lumbering Vanguard and the backpedaling Gunner off their feet and into its swirling embrace, trapping them together.
"Now!" I shouted.
My team seized the opportunity. Kaeya sent a wave of razor-sharp icicles into the vortex, incapacitating the Cryo Gunner. Vile and Roscher worked in tandem to bind the trapped and disoriented Vanguard in heavy chains.
While they secured the prisoners, I rushed to the destabilizer. It was a complex mess of crystals and wiring, humming with a malevolent energy. My Instinct screamed that a frontal assault would cause it to overload. I placed my hands on its surface, closing my eyes and focusing my Anemo sensitivity. I could feel the flow of power within it, a river of stolen energy flowing to a central crystal. That was the key. I sent a single, precise, needle-thin thread of Anemo energy into the device, not to destroy it, but to disrupt the flow, like placing a stone in a river. The humming intensified for a terrifying second, then died with a pathetic fizzle. The device was inert.
We had done it. Roscher was already freeing the informant, Elias, who was weak but alive. Vile was methodically opening the cages. The freed slimes and the thawed Whopperflower simply dissipated, returning to the invisible streams of elemental energy that flowed through the world.
Suddenly, a high-pitched whine emanated from the disabled device. A small, red crystal at its base began to glow.
"It's a failsafe!" Vile shouted. "Self-destruct!"
There was no time to run. No time to think. I acted on pure instinct. I threw my hands around the device, not to smother it, but to control its end. I summoned every ounce of my Anemo power, creating a dense, spherical barrier of wind around the destabilizer just as the red crystal flashed.
The explosion was silent inside my Anemo sphere. All the force, fire, and shrapnel were contained within a swirling ball of wind. It strained my control to the absolute limit; my muscles screamed, and my nose began to bleed from the sheer exertion. Gritting my teeth, I channeled the entire contained detonation upwards. A focused, violent jet of energy erupted from the sphere, blasting a perfectly circular hole through the wooden roof of the warehouse above, venting harmlessly into the sky.
Then, silence. The Anemo sphere dissipated. I fell to one knee, panting, the smell of ozone thick in the air. The device was now a mangled heap of scrap metal.
Kaeya walked over, looking at the hole in the roof, then back at me. He was silent for a long moment before a slow, genuine smile touched his lips. "I knew you were gifted, Arthur," he said, his voice filled with something that sounded like awe. "I didn't realize you were a natural disaster in your own right."
He helped me to my feet, his grip firm and steady. "You did good, kid. Better than good."
As Vile helped the weak informant up the stairs, my eyes fell upon the wreckage of the destabilizer. Amidst the twisted metal, I saw a marking that had been previously hidden inside the casing. It wasn't the standard gear-like insignia of the Fatui. It was a strange, serpentine symbol, intertwined with what looked like a stylized, weeping eye.
"Captain," I said, pointing. "Look."
Kaeya knelt beside me, his smile vanishing as he saw the symbol. He traced its outline with a gloved finger, his brow furrowed in deep thought. "That… is not a mark I recognize. It is not one of The Doctor's known sigils. His work is usually more… clinical. This feels older. More esoteric."
He stood up, his gaze distant and troubled. We had won the battle. We had stopped the immediate threat. But this strange symbol was a loose thread, a clue that suggested the conspiracy we had uncovered was just the outer layer of something far deeper, and far more rotten, festering in the shadows. My Instinct screamed at me, a cold certainty that this was only the beginning.