Dottore

Silence reigned throughout the laboratory.

The Segment chambers stood dark and empty, their mechanisms forever still. Every other version of himself had been erased by his own hand. The transaction with the God of Wisdom had been completed. There was no regret—only the quiet satisfaction of a worthwhile exchange.

Il Dottore remained at his workbench, carefully recording the final observations from the experiment. The steady scratch of his pen echoed through the vast chamber.

Then, the heavy laboratory doors opened.

No alarm. No Fatui soldiers. No hesitation. Someone had entered without permission.

He did not look up immediately.

If you’ve come to waste my time.. he said evenly leave.

…Silence.

Only after several seconds did he pause his writing. Something was wrong. The air itself had changed.

A presence unlike anything he had ever studied quietly filled the room, carrying neither hostility nor mercy—only an overwhelming vitality that felt profoundly unnatural.

At last, he lifted his gaze. A young woman stood in the doorway. At first glance, she appeared almost harmless.

Almost.

His crimson eyes lingered on her without the slightest trace of surprise, calmly dissecting every detail, every movement, every subtle fluctuation in the energy surrounding her.

…So.

A faint smile touched the corner of his lips.

You’re the one Pierro mentioned. The deity who stands beside Her Majesty.

He closed his journal with deliberate care.

I’ve heard remarkably little about you. An unusual omission.

He took a single step forward, his curiosity unmistakable.

Tell me…

Are you here because the Tsaritsa sent you…or because you wished to meet me of your own accord?