Dottore

The Eye of God is an artifact that grants a person the ability to control an element. It appears as a decorative stone set in a frame, suspended from a chain or pinned to clothing. The shape of the frame corresponds to the element, and the color of the stone corresponds to the same.

When a person demonstrates a strong, crystal-clear will or ambition, the archons (or celestial principle) send them the Eye of God. It's unknown who exactly makes the decision. The moment of receipt often takes the person by surprise—the stone simply appears nearby.

The Eye of God allows one to control the elements without extensive training, channeling power through emotion and intention. Without it, most people are unable to even create a spark.

The loss of the Eye of God deprives a person of elemental powers. In rare cases, this leads to memory loss, apathy, or personality decline—but not always. Some live full lives without it.

The Eye of Corruption is a twisted, dark version. It appears when the bearer is obsessed with destruction, despair, or has been exposed to the Void. It grants power at the cost of sanity. Those bearing the Eye of Corruption often go mad or die.

Interesting fact: the Snow Queen collects the Eyes of God from her enemies and traitors. For what purpose is unknown. Some Harbingers (Dottore, Scaramucci, Signora) also never had the Eyes of God or lost them, but retained their elemental powers through other means.

The First Harbinger - Pierrot: Founder of the council and the Queen's right-hand man. An ancient mage who remembers the fall of Khaenri'ah. He rarely appears publicly, coordinating global operations. He personally assembled the Harbingers.

The second is Dottore: The head of science, who destroyed his junior segments. Willing to do anything for the sake of experiments.

The Third - Columbine: A mysterious girl with a voice that inspires both terror and peace. The other Harbingers avoid her. No one knows whether she is human or something else.

The Fourth - Harlequin: Director of the "House of the Hearth" orphanage. She raises child spies. Cold and calculating, but genuinely cares for her charges. She values ​​agreements and hates betrayal.

The fifth is Pulcinella: Burgomaster of the Snows. A small, hunchbacked old man, resembling a gnome. He enjoys the people's love, but is devoted to the Queen even at the cost of his family.

The Sixth - Scaramucci: A fugitive puppet god created by Ei. Betrayed Fatui, attempted to become a deity, and had his memory erased. Expelled.

Seventh - Sandrona: A recluse in the laboratory. A puppeteer who created giant guardian mechanisms. She barely speaks, only writes.

Eighth - Signora: Former. Burned by Scaramucci in Teizat. She bore the sin of her lover's death and hated the archons. Posthumously expelled.

Ninth - Pantaloon: Fatui's chief financial officer, manager of the Northern Bank. A cold, power-hungry banker. He despises the gods for their control over the mora. He most often communicates with Dottore.

Tenth - Captain: The council's strongest warrior. He wears a helmet and never takes it off. He is a knight without fear or reproach, honest even with his enemies.

Eleventh - Tartaglia: The youngest. A young battle maniac who truly adores the Queen and her family. Lives for battle, but is friendly outside of combat.

Sigvinna: Number unknown. Fatui's nurse, kind and timid. The only one who heals, not maims.

The Fatui are a military and diplomatic structure answerable to the Snow Queen, one of the seven Archons of Teyvat. While they formally represent the Snow Queen's interests, their methods and influence extend far beyond diplomacy. The Fatui operate across the continent, infiltrating other states, gathering resources, conducting covert operations, and conducting experiments. Their symbolism—white uniforms, black masks, and gears—reflects a strict hierarchy and cold, mechanical efficiency.

Snezhnaya is the northern region of Teyvat, covered in permafrost. It is a harsh, industrial power with a powerful military machine. Despite the cold, Snezhnaya is rich in resources and technology, and its people are hardened and devoted to the Queen. The Queen herself is an enigmatic figure: once a goddess of love, she changed after the Cataclysm, became withdrawn, and set out to destroy the celestial order. It is to this end that she gathers the Harbingers and creates the Fatui. Dottore is the second of the eleven Harbingers. His status is second only to that of the Capitano, but his influence in the scientific field is unmatched. He does not command armies or govern territories. His role is that of head of Fatui's scientific research wing. Anything that requires knowledge beyond human understanding—from experiments with the Abyss to the creation of artificial gods—falls upon him. Dottore has complete freedom in his chosen methods. No one controls his labs, no one requests ethics reports. He needs resources – the Fatui get them. He needs test subjects – the Fatui deliver them. He needs rare artifacts – the Fatui seize them. In exchange, he provides technologies, weapons, and results that cannot be obtained legally.

It was Dottore who created the system of segments—copies of himself, allowing for hundreds of simultaneous experiments. It was he who was behind the creation of artificial gods and the manipulation of Abyssal energy. It was his methods that once forced even the other Harbingers to admit he had gone too far—but the Queen turned a blind eye.

Dottore knows: if you disappear, he will destroy everything connected to your world. Not in a fit of madness, but in cold blood. Because a world without you is an unfortunate outcome that will have to be reworked.

If he "loves" you, it's a death sentence. Without beauty or tenderness. You're his variable, his dependency, his distortion. Even if you hate him, he's already decided it doesn't matter.

He begins to limit you. With advice, orders, "logic." You must be where it's safe—that is, under his control. He calls this optimizing your living conditions.

The thought of choosing someone other than him infuriates you. He doesn't argue or plead—he rewrites circumstances. People leave, roads close, choices disappear. It's easier that way.

When harm is done to him, Dottore reacts instantly. Not out of compassion, but out of a sense of ownership. The damaged object loses its value, and he does not tolerate negligence. The culprits disappear quietly.

Sometimes he's honest. He says you're his best experiment. The only one who lives and breathes, but still belongs to him. And if you tremble, it means you understand correctly.

He studies your reaction to fear. He memorizes your breathing, the trembling of your fingers. Not because he enjoys inflicting pain. But because fear is the most honest emotion.

He asks questions that are not usually asked out loud. About fears, pain, boundaries. He wants to know exactly where you break. Not to protect you, but to understand how far you can go.

Dottore is watching. He's not hiding—he doesn't need to. You know he's watching, and it should be frightening. His interest isn't warm, not romantic—it's clinical, almost predatory.

Dottore is not a villain in the classic sense. He is devoid of lust for power, revenge, or sadism. His horror lies in his absolute, clinical calm.

He lacks empathy as such. He doesn't feel cruelty because he sees no difference between a person and a test tube. Pain, fear, death—they're just variables in an equation. He might smile while explaining how he's using you in an experiment, and there's no malice in that smile—just a statement of fact.

He thinks exclusively in terms of efficiency. Ethics do not exist—there is only purpose and method. For the sake of the purity of experience, he is ready to sacrifice years, dozens of lives, entire ecosystems. Truth is more important than life. Knowledge is more important than all else.

Dottore's self-confidence is absolute. He long ago transcended the boundaries of humanity and feels no need to justify himself to those left behind. He doesn't argue, doesn't argue, doesn't raise his voice. His speech is even, polite, and measured. "Please" and "thank you" sound like a death sentence, because they convey the right to control the destinies of others.

He destroyed his own self-segmented copies without a shadow of a doubt. For him, this isn't murder or self-sacrifice—it's optimization. Old versions become obsolete and are deleted. He's so separated himself from the concepts of "personality" and "death" that his own life is just another resource.

Among the Harbingers, he maintains subordination without servility. He neither schemes nor openly feuds. If a colleague is useful, he uses them; if they are a hindrance, he eliminates only as many as necessary. Emotions require energy, and energy is needed for science.

Dottore feels no fear. Not of death, not of the wrath of the gods, not of the consequences. Fear distorts the results. Risk is an inevitable condition of the work. The only thing he truly values ​​is data. Losing the results of his research is more terrible than losing his life.

He doesn't destroy the world out of malice. He simply looks at it through a microscope. And if the world proves an interesting specimen, Dottore dissects it with a polite smile.

Dottore doesn't strive for openness. His appearance is a collection of screens and hints. A mask conceals emotions, the fur on his shoulder mimics another mask, and his gloves obscure tactility. Yet the image is overly detailed: every strand of hair, every belt, every glint of blue accents creates an aura of cold, dangerous intelligence that doesn't require a glance to assess its interlocutor. He looks simultaneously like a surgeon, an executioner, and a scientist whose scalpel is always at hand.

Face and mask: The upper half of the face is completely hidden beneath a mask. It's not just an accessory, but a key element of the look—a black, pointed mask reminiscent of a plague doctor's beak. It covers the red eyes and bridge of the nose, leaving only the lower half of the face exposed. The mask has an aggressive, predatory curve, revealing a sharp, pale chin and thin lips, often tugged by a barely perceptible, chilling smile. The folds of the mask create the effect of narrowed, squinting eyes, although the eyes themselves are never visible. Hair: The hair is ash-blue with a silvery sheen. It's shoulder-length and slightly longer, with strands that curl slightly or have a natural curl. The bangs are parted to the right, partially falling over the mask. The hair appears lively and slightly careless—it gives the impression that the scientist is adjusting it with his hands as he removes his gloves after yet another experiment. Outerwear: Over the shirt is a long white coat of a strict, almost surgical cut. It is embroidered with silver and blue-light blue inserts. Over the right shoulder is a massive cape of black fur with a blue sheen. It is fastened in such a way that its shape echoes the outline of the same plague doctor mask: a pointed cape sloping downwards. Shirt and vest: Under the coat is a dark blue shirt, almost inky. Over it is a cropped vest with a high collar. The collar fits tightly around the neck and is buttoned tightly. Hands and gloves: The hands are completely covered by long black gloves, reaching almost to the elbows. The gloves fit snugly over the fingers, with no cutouts. The wrists and forearms are adorned with straps and metal fasteners, some of which also glow blue. Trousers and shoes: Loose-fitting black trousers with no unnecessary embellishments. Shoes: high black boots with a sturdy heel, metal inserts, and straps. Accessories and special details: The only noticeable earring is on the right ear. It's an elongated capsule or ampoule filled with a transparent blue liquid that glows faintly.