The rain followed us down the street like Fontaine itself had decided to provide dramatic background music.
Honestly, I respected the commitment.
In Mondstadt, the wind carried freedom and the occasional drunk bard. In Liyue, stone remembered contracts and old grudges. In Inazuma, lightning screamed at your travel documents until you started questioning your legal status. Sumeru had dreams, wisdom, and academic trauma wrapped in leafy architecture. Fontaine, however, had rain that felt like it had read the script before everyone else and was now quietly foreshadowing emotional damage.
I walked beside Lumine with Nilou close on my other side, Paimon floating ahead of us under the nearest awning whenever the street allowed it, and Greg tucked against my neck because my collar had apparently become government-approved lizard shelter. Lyney and Lynette had shown us the direction to Beaumont Workshop before returning to their preparations, leaving us with the materials, the rain, and the unmistakable feeling that my peaceful errand had approximately ten seconds left to live.
Paimon turned around midair, arms crossed. "You know, Paimon still doesn't like how you said you could smell ginger."
Lumine adjusted the bag of materials against her side, her eyes already wary. "Neither do I."
Nilou looked between us with gentle confusion. "I understand you mean Childe, but why ginger?"
"Hair," Lumine said.
"Recurring problem," Paimon added.
"Wallet," I finished.
Nilou blinked. "Wallet?"
I nodded gravely. "He has the aura of a man who should be paying for dinner after causing public property damage."
Lumine sighed, but there was reluctant amusement in her eyes. "That is unfortunately accurate."
Paimon pointed at me. "But don't act like you're excited to see him!"
"I am not excited," I said. "I am spiritually bracing."
Greg flicked his tail against my neck.
I narrowed my eyes. "Do not imply those are the same thing."
His tail flicked again.
"They are not."
Another flick.
"Okay, emotionally adjacent at most."
Nilou laughed softly beneath the rain, and the sound made the damp street feel warmer for a second. She had never met Childe before, which meant she only knew him from our stories: the Eleventh Fatui Harbinger, battle maniac, former Liyue problem, occasional ally, very dangerous, weirdly friendly, and somehow still single despite having the kind of face that should have caused at least three diplomatic incidents by now.
I could already feel my mouth preparing to attack that weakness.
A wise man would stop himself.
Unfortunately, I was not wise. I was only occasionally intelligent under pressure, and this was not pressure. This was comedy territory.
Beaumont Workshop announced itself before we fully reached it. The rhythmic sound of machinery echoed through the rain, not like the heavy pounding of a traditional blacksmith but like metal being persuaded through advanced Fontainian arrogance. The workshop sat along Vasari Passage with tools, mechanical arms, and glowing devices arranged in controlled disorder. It smelled of heated metal, oil, wet stone, and the particular pride of a nation that looked at hammers and decided even forging needed engineering theater.
Estelle stood near the equipment, small in build but carrying herself like someone who did not need height to run a workshop. Her eyes shifted from the machinery to us, sharp and practical.
"You must be the ones Lyney mentioned," she said, wiping one hand on her apron. "Materials for the Magic Pockets?"
Lumine stepped forward and offered the bag. "Yes. Lyney asked us to bring these to you."
Estelle accepted it with clear relief. "Good. We've been running low, and demand has only been increasing. People may joke about the prophecy in public, but they're still careful when it comes to what they want preserved."
Paimon hovered closer, curiosity winning over her dislike of rain. "So you help make Magic Pockets too?"
"In a way," Estelle said, opening the bag and checking the contents with practiced efficiency. "Lyney handles distribution and some of the coordination. I help with certain components and reinforcing the storage mechanisms. These materials aren't powered by the Archon's energy. They use another source, but it's unstable by nature, so the processing must be precise."
I tilted my head slightly, watching the faint reactions in the material as she handled it. Fontaine's systems were always like this, beautiful on the outside and terrifyingly complicated underneath. "Fontaine really looked at unstable energy and said, 'Yes, but what if we put it in a cute bag?'"
Estelle looked at me for one second, then continued checking the materials. "That is not an inaccurate summary."
Paimon blinked. "Wait, really?"
Lumine gave me a look. "Do not look proud."
"I am deeply proud."
Nilou stepped closer to the worktable, careful not to touch anything without permission. "It must take a lot of skill to make something people can trust during an emergency."
Estelle's practical expression softened slightly. "Trust is the hard part. A machine can be adjusted. Materials can be reinforced. But fear…" She glanced toward the rainy street beyond the workshop. "Fear gets into people. Sometimes giving them something small to hold onto helps more than arguing with them."
Nilou nodded, her gaze gentle. "In Sumeru, people often gather around performances during difficult times. It doesn't solve everything, but it gives their hearts somewhere to breathe."
Estelle looked at her with interest. "You're a performer?"
"A dancer," Nilou said. "From the Zubayr Theater."
"That explains the way you move," Estelle said. "You stepped around every tool here without looking twice."
Nilou blinked, then smiled bashfully. "Ah… I didn't realize."
I placed a hand over my chest. "Her grace is automatic. My goddess has passive elegance."
Nilou's face warmed immediately. "Shigeru…"
Lumine smacked my arm lightly. "Behave."
"I am appreciating art."
"You are embarrassing her."
"Art deserves public recognition."
Paimon pointed at Estelle. "Please ignore him. He gets worse if encouraged."
Greg flicked his tail.
I turned my head. "Greg, you are supposed to defend your father figure."
Tail flick.
"Et tu, shoulder traitor?"
Estelle watched us for a moment, then shook her head with a small smile. "Lyney did warn me you were unusual."
Lumine sighed. "He was being kind."
Before I could defend my very normal personality, the workshop's atmosphere shifted.
Not dramatically at first. No thunder. No ominous music. Just footsteps from the street, voices approaching with the swagger of people who thought volume could substitute for authority. The rain had not stopped, but the sound of it was soon joined by men stepping into the workshop's space as if they owned the street, the tools, and possibly several nearby opinions.
A man at the front wore the expression of someone who had never met consequences in a form he couldn't intimidate. Several others flanked him, all carrying themselves with the practiced arrogance of debt collectors who preferred using fists as punctuation.
Paimon immediately floated backward. "Uh-oh."
Lumine's posture changed. Subtle, but immediate.
Nilou stepped half a pace behind Lumine, not hiding exactly, but recognizing that this was not her usual kind of conflict. Her eyes, however, stayed calm. She had traveled with us long enough to know that trouble often arrived loudly and left either embarrassed or unconscious.
I rubbed my forehead. "And there it is."
The man at the front spread his arms with a false smile. "Estelle, Estelle. We've been patient. Surely you didn't think we'd forget."
Estelle's expression hardened. "Truand. I already told you, I'm not interested in your arrangements."
"So unfriendly," Truand said, glancing at the rest of us. His eyes lingered on Lumine's sword, moved over Nilou with a look I immediately disliked, then passed to me with the dismissiveness of someone who had not yet learned that pale idiots were sometimes dangerous. "And now you've brought visitors. How touching."
Nilou's hand tightened slightly at her side.
Lumine noticed.
I noticed Lumine noticing.
Paimon pointed at Truand. "Hey! Don't cause trouble! We're just delivering materials."
Truand ignored her and stepped closer to Estelle. "The Confrérie of Cabriere has a simple offer. You cooperate with us, and your little workshop enjoys protection. Refuse, and business becomes… difficult."
I leaned toward Lumine and whispered, "Ah yes. Protection fees. The classic universal language of people begging to be punched."
Lumine's eyes stayed on Truand. "Don't start."
"I am not starting. I am narrating."
Greg's tail flicked.
"Greg supports violence."
Another flick.
"He supports efficient violence."
Estelle crossed her arms. "I don't need your protection."
Truand's smile thinned. "Everyone needs protection in Fontaine. Some just learn that later than others."
That was when another voice entered the workshop, bright, familiar, and carrying the effortless confidence of someone who could walk into a gang's intimidation scene and treat it like light exercise.
"Well now, that's interesting."
Lumine closed her eyes.
Paimon froze.
I smiled slowly.
Ah.
There he was.
The ginger wallet problem had spawned.
Childe stepped into view with rain clinging lightly to his coat and that same fearless grin plastered across his face, looking entirely too pleased with himself for a man who had already been responsible for at least one major international headache. He looked at Truand and his men first, amusement clear in his eyes.
"If Confrérie of Cabriere wants to poach clients from Northland Bank, that's fine," Childe said, his smile sharpening, "but I'm afraid you still owe the bank a hefty sum of Mora."
Truand stiffened.
Paimon slowly turned toward me with haunted eyes. "You were right."
"I hate being right," I said. "Except when it's funny."
Childe's gaze shifted from Truand to us, and the moment he saw Lumine and Paimon, his expression brightened like someone had just handed him a festival invitation and a battlefield in the same envelope.
"Well, well," he said. "Traveler. Paimon. Fancy meeting you here."
Paimon threw both hands in the air. "Why are you here!?"
Lumine's voice was flat. "Childe."
I raised a hand. "Bro, we literally cannot enter a nation without you appearing like a limited-time combat event."
Childe laughed, genuinely delighted. "Comrade! Good to see you too."
"Do not 'good to see you' me. We just arrived, and you're already part of the local debt ecosystem."
He grinned wider. "I've been keeping busy."
"You are international trouble with orange hair."
"And you're looking a little pale."
"The water attacked me."
Childe blinked, then laughed harder. "Fontaine's water?"
"Smoothly."
"That somehow makes it funnier."
"I am suffering."
"That also makes it funnier."
Paimon pointed at him. "See!? This is why Paimon says he's dangerous!"
Nilou watched Childe carefully from beside Lumine. This was her first time seeing him in person, and I could practically read her thoughts moving through her expression. Friendly smile. Polite stance. Relaxed shoulders. But beneath all of that was something sharp, restless, and battle-hungry, like a blade pretending to be a handshake.
Childe noticed her gaze and turned with open curiosity. "And these are new companions?"
Ah.
Showtime.
I grinned and stepped slightly between the groups, sweeping one hand proudly toward Lumine and Nilou. "That's right, ginger. While you were out here staying single as fuck and picking fights with unpaid civilians, I bagged two baddies."
For half a second, the entire workshop forgot how to breathe.
Paimon choked on air.
Nilou turned scarlet.
Estelle stared.
Truand looked like he was beginning to regret choosing today for crime.
Childe froze.
Then his grin split wide with pure entertainment.
Lumine slowly turned her head toward me.
Danger.
Immediate danger.
I raised one finger. "In my defense—"
Bonk.
Her fist landed on the top of my head with enough precision to remind me that the Honorary Knight had fought gods and also had excellent disciplinary technique.
"Ow!"
"Do not introduce us like trophies," Lumine said.
I clutched my skull. "I introduced you like achievements."
Bonk.
"WORTH IT."
Nilou covered her burning face with both hands. "Shigeru, please…"
Childe burst out laughing, loud and unrestrained. Even some of Truand's men looked momentarily unsure whether they were still in an intimidation scene or had wandered into the wrong performance.
Childe wiped at the corner of his eye. "I see you haven't changed much, comrade."
"I evolved," I said, still holding my head. "Romantically."
Lumine lifted her hand again.
"I am silent now."
Nilou, still blushing, took a small breath and stepped forward with the dignity of someone trying to rescue social order from my crimes. "It's nice to meet you. I'm Nilou, from Sumeru's Zubayr Theater. Please don't judge everyone based on him."
Childe smiled with surprising warmth and gave her a courteous nod. "Tartaglia, Eleventh of the Fatui Harbingers. Though friends call me Childe. And don't worry, I know better than to judge a whole group based on him."
I pointed at him. "Rude."
Childe's grin turned playful. "But he seems proud of you."
Nilou's blush deepened.
I slapped my hand against my chest. "See? Ginger gets it."
Lumine raised her fist again.
"I'm silent again."
Childe's eyes moved next to Greg, who sat on my shoulder and stared at him with the focused judgment of a tiny ancient magistrate. "And who's this little guy?"
Greg flicked his tail.
I nodded solemnly. "He says you look expensive."
Childe laughed. "Sharp instincts."
Greg flicked again.
"He also says you smell like battle addiction and unpaid dinner bills."
Lumine gave me a flat look. "Greg did not say all that."
"He said it with nuance."
Paimon crossed her arms. "Honestly, Paimon believes Greg."
Childe stepped closer, studying Greg with genuine interest. "He has spirit."
Greg lifted his tail a fraction higher, accepting the compliment like royalty.
I turned my head. "Do not bond with the Fatui Harbinger. He is a bad influence."
Childe leaned slightly toward Greg. "Don't listen to him. Bad influences are often the most fun."
Greg flicked his tail.
"Greg!"
Nilou watched the exchange with a mixture of nervousness and amusement, but her eyes returned to Childe's face. She leaned closer to me and whispered, "He feels friendly… but not safe."
I smiled faintly. "That might be the most accurate Childe review anyone has ever given."
Childe looked between us. "Talking about me?"
"Yes," Lumine said.
"Negatively," Paimon added.
"Honestly," Nilou corrected, then immediately looked apologetic when Childe laughed again.
Truand, apparently tired of being ignored in his own intimidation attempt, stepped forward with a scowl. "Are you done chatting? This has nothing to do with you."
Childe's smile changed.
It stayed friendly, but the air around him sharpened.
"Oh, but it does," he said. "You owe Northland Bank money, and now you're trying to squeeze other people instead of paying your debt. That makes it my business."
Truand's men shifted, hands moving toward weapons.
Lumine's hand lowered toward her sword.
I rolled my shoulders.
Paimon floated higher. "Why does this always happen!?"
"Because debt collectors do not understand genre awareness," I said.
Nilou took a careful step back, but her eyes remained steady. "Do we need to fight?"
"Probably," Lumine said.
Childe looked at her with bright excitement. "Just like old times."
Lumine sighed. "I would rather not make a habit of that."
I raised a hand. "For the record, if we are beating up debt criminals, I request that Childe pays for dinner afterward."
Childe grinned. "If you keep up, maybe."
"Oh, ginger, I have two fiancées now. My motivation has multiplied."
Bonk.
Lumine did not even look at me this time.
I clutched my head again. "Still worth it."
Truand lunged first, because men like him always did when the room stopped respecting them. Lumine moved like a flash of pale gold, stepping forward with Mistplitter's hilt already in her grip. She did not draw fully at first; she didn't need to. The first man's weapon was knocked aside with a clean motion, and her knee caught his center before he could recover. He dropped with a strangled breath.
Childe moved beside her, laughing as if the rain had suddenly become a festival. Hydro flashed around his hands, curved blades forming with that familiar fluid elegance. He slipped between two attackers, parried one strike, ducked another, and spun with enough force to send a man crashing into a stack of empty crates.
"Still sharp, Traveler!" he called.
Lumine's eyes narrowed. "Focus."
"I am focused!"
"You're smiling too much."
"That's how I focus."
Paimon hovered near Nilou, flailing as the fight broke out. "Careful! Don't let them damage the workshop!"
Estelle shouted from near the machines, "Exactly! If anyone breaks the pressure assembly, they're paying for it!"
I caught one of the Confrérie men by the wrist before he could rush toward Nilou. His eyes widened when my grip stopped him cold. I smiled politely.
"Wrong direction."
He tried to pull away.
He failed.
I twisted his arm just enough to turn his momentum against him, stepped behind him, and swept his legs out from under him. He hit the wet stone with a painful thud.
Greg flicked his tail approvingly.
"Thank you, Greg. See? Efficient violence."
Nilou, despite staying out of direct combat, was not helpless. When one attacker stumbled too close after dodging Childe, she spun lightly aside with dancer's grace, letting his momentum carry him past her. Her sleeve brushed the air like part of a performance, and though she did not strike, her movement drew his balance just enough for Lumine to step in and tap the back of his knee with the flat of her blade.
He collapsed.
Nilou blinked. "Oh."
I stared proudly. "Goddess footwork."
Nilou's cheeks colored even in the rain. "I only moved out of the way."
"And the enemy lost purpose."
Paimon pointed. "Shigeru, compliment later! Fight now!"
"Multitasking!"
Childe saw the exchange and laughed while parrying another strike. "She's graceful."
"Careful, ginger," I said, catching a thrown tool with a quick movement before it could hit Estelle's workbench. "That's my goddess."
Nilou hid her face again. "Please stop saying that during combat."
Lumine struck another attacker with the hilt of her sword and muttered, "He won't."
"Nope!"
The fight did not last long. Truand's men had numbers, but they were fighting a Traveler, a Harbinger, one spoiler-powered idiot, a dancer whose evasion ruined rhythm, a floating emergency commentator, a blacksmith who looked ready to charge anyone who damaged her equipment, and Greg, whose judgment lowered morale by at least fifteen percent.
Soon, the Confrérie thugs were either on the ground, staggering backward, or reconsidering their life choices under the rain.
Truand himself tried to retreat.
Childe appeared in front of him with a smile.
"Leaving already?"
Truand froze.
Lumine stepped behind him.
I leaned against a nearby post, arms crossed. "Careful. If you run now, you'll owe an embarrassment fee."
Paimon blinked. "Is that real?"
"In Fontaine? Maybe."
Estelle crossed her arms. "It should be."
Truand looked around, realized the entire situation had collapsed, and swallowed hard.
Childe's tone remained light. "Now then, about that debt."
The Confrérie men scrambled away soon after, dragging each other through the rainy street with the unique dignity of people who had arrived to collect money and left owing both Mora and pride. Estelle watched them go, shoulders tense until they disappeared around the corner.
Then she exhaled.
"Well," she said. "That was troublesome."
Paimon placed her hands on her hips. "Troublesome!? They were trying to threaten you!"
Estelle sighed. "They've been causing problems for a while. Some groups think the prophecy makes people easier to pressure. Fear is profitable if you have no shame."
Nilou's expression saddened. "That's awful."
Childe looked in the direction Truand had fled, his smile thinner now. "Unfortunately common."
I studied him.
There were many versions of Childe. The battle maniac. The loyal Harbinger. The older brother. The walking catastrophe with a friendly grin. The man who could nearly drown a harbor and still joke afterward like it was a particularly intense sparring session. But beneath the smile, there was something else today.
A tension.
A faint dissonance.
The Abyss beneath the grin.
The whale moving somewhere far below the stage.
I knew what came later. Not every detail, not every breath, but enough. Enough to understand that Childe's arrival in Fontaine was not just comedic recurrence. It was a thread tied to something ancient and hungry beneath the water.
Childe turned back toward us, apparently unconcerned by my stare. "So, comrade. Traveler. Paimon. It really has been a while."
Paimon crossed her arms. "Not long enough."
He laughed. "Still as sharp as ever."
Lumine gave him a measured look. "What are you doing in Fontaine?"
"Keeping busy," Childe said lightly. "There are official Champion Duelists here, you know. I've been sparring with them when I get the chance."
I made a face. "Of course you have."
Childe looked offended in the most unserious way possible. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means Fontaine introduced a professional category of strong people legally allowed to duel, and you immediately treated it like a buffet."
His grin returned. "Can you blame me?"
"Yes," Lumine said.
"No," I said at the same time.
Lumine looked at me.
I shrugged. "I understand the temptation. I condemn the social consequences."
Nilou watched Childe with cautious curiosity. "Do you really enjoy fighting that much?"
Childe looked at her, and for once his answer did not come immediately as a joke. "I do. Fighting is honest in a way most things aren't. When blades cross, people reveal who they really are."
Nilou considered that. "Dancing can be honest too."
Childe tilted his head, interested.
Nilou continued softly, "Not because it hurts someone, but because movement can show feelings people can't say."
For a moment, the rain filled the space between them.
Then Childe smiled, less wild this time and more genuinely intrigued. "That's a good answer."
I leaned toward Lumine and whispered, "My goddess just philosophically parried a Harbinger."
Lumine whispered back, "Let her have the moment."
"I am letting her have it with commentary."
"That means you're not."
Greg flicked his tail against my neck.
"Greg, stop moderating my romance."
Childe's gaze moved to me again. "You seem happy, comrade."
I blinked.
That was not the direction I expected.
Childe's smile was still there, but his eyes had sharpened in that strange way of his. He was dangerous because he noticed things through combat, but also through pressure. He saw posture, reactions, tension, attachments. He had seen me joke, get bonked, defend Nilou, fight, watch him, and then go quiet.
"I am," I said honestly.
Lumine's expression softened slightly.
Nilou's fingers brushed mine.
Paimon looked between us, then pretended to be busy scolding a fallen crate.
Childe nodded once. "Good. It suits you."
I stared at him.
Then pointed. "Don't be emotionally mature at me. I'm trying to roast you."
He laughed. "Then roast away."
"Gladly. You are still single as fuck."
Bonk.
Lumine's hand landed again before Childe even finished laughing.
I clutched my head. "She has no respect for competitive trash talk."
"You keep dragging us into it," Lumine said.
"Because you are my greatest achievements!"
"That is sweet and terrible."
"Like me."
Nilou covered her smile with one hand. "That is also accurate."
Paimon nodded. "Too accurate."
Childe laughed so hard even Estelle shook her head.
The laughter faded gradually, but the quiet that came after was not empty. Rain tapped against metal and stone. Estelle returned to checking whether the workshop had been damaged. Paimon floated near her, loudly insisting that if anything was broken, the Confrérie should pay double. Nilou helped pick up scattered tools, moving with careful respect through the workspace. Lumine watched Childe with guarded familiarity.
And I watched him with worry I did not want to admit.
His Hydro Vision caught my eye.
It looked normal at first glance.
But I knew better than to trust normal in Fontaine.
Childe noticed where I was looking. His smile shifted slightly. "Something on your mind?"
"Always," I said. "Most of it stupid."
"And the rest?"
I met his eyes. "You should be careful, ginger."
Childe's expression brightened with teasing surprise. "Worried about me?"
"Unfortunately, yes. You're annoying, but you're our annoying recurring boss."
Paimon turned. "Hey, don't call him ours!"
Lumine sighed. "Too late."
Childe's grin softened into something almost fond. "I'm honored."
"You shouldn't be," I said. "It's a diagnosis."
He chuckled, but I could see it now more clearly: the faint strain under his casual posture, the restlessness that was not just his usual hunger for battle. Something inside him was moving out of rhythm. Something below the surface had already begun calling.
"Have you been feeling off?" I asked quietly.
Lumine looked at me.
Childe's eyes narrowed just a little.
For the first time since arriving, his smile did not answer before he did. "That's a strange question."
"I specialize in those."
He studied me. The rain ran down the edge of the workshop roof beside him, tapping steadily into a drainage channel. After a moment, he looked away, one hand lifting toward his Vision as if by habit. "My Vision has been acting up," he admitted. "Sometimes it feels like it isn't responding properly."
Paimon's eyes widened. "Your Vision?"
Lumine's expression sharpened. "Since when?"
Childe shrugged, but the movement was too casual. "It started after I arrived in Fontaine. At first, I thought I was imagining things. But it's been getting harder to use."
There it was.
The thread tightening.
Nilou looked concerned despite barely knowing him. "Does it hurt?"
"Not exactly," Childe said. "It's more irritating than painful."
I watched him carefully. "That's what people say before the plot punches them."
Childe laughed once. "You're unusually serious."
"I hate it too."
Lumine stepped closer to him, guarded but not cold. "You should have that checked."
"By whom? A doctor?" Childe grinned again. "I doubt there's a medical form for 'Vision refuses to cooperate because Fontaine is weird.'"
"In this nation?" I said. "There might be."
Estelle, from the workbench, said without looking up, "There are forms for stranger things."
Paimon threw her hands up. "Fontaine bureaucracy is scary!"
Childe detached his Hydro Vision from his person and held it in his hand, looking at it thoughtfully. The gesture made the air tighten for reasons only I fully understood. He had always been dangerous, but watching him hold a piece of himself like it had become unreliable made the future feel closer.
Then he looked at Lumine. "Actually, Traveler, why don't you hold onto this for a while?"
Lumine blinked. "Your Vision?"
Paimon gasped. "You're just giving it to us!?"
"It's not doing me much good right now," Childe said lightly. "And if I end up getting into any formal trouble, it might be useful for you to have it."
"Formal trouble," I repeated. "Ginger, you are in Fontaine. Formal trouble is their national sport."
He tossed the Vision gently. Lumine caught it with both hands, staring at it as if she was not sure whether she had been handed a weapon, evidence, or a future headache.
I pointed at Childe. "You do realize giving your Vision to Blondie is basically handing us a loaded Chekhov's gun, right?"
Childe tilted his head. "A what?"
"Never mind. Earth literature trauma."
Lumine looked at me. "Should I be worried?"
"Yes," I said.
Childe laughed.
I added, "But not because of the Vision alone."
His laughter slowed slightly.
For a moment, our eyes met.
There was a question in his expression now. Not spoken, not fully formed, but there. What do you know?
The answer was too much.
The Abyss. The whale. The courtroom. The false verdict. The descent. The thing sleeping below Fontaine's waters, tied to him in ways even he did not fully understand yet.
I could have said all of it.
I said none of it.
Instead, I smiled crookedly. "Try not to get arrested too quickly."
Paimon froze. "Arrested?"
Lumine looked immediately exhausted. "Shigeru."
Childe grinned. "Now why would I get arrested?"
I stared at him.
Paimon stared at him.
Lumine stared at him.
Even Nilou, who had met him less than fifteen minutes ago, stared at him.
Greg flicked his tail.
Childe looked around at all of us and laughed. "Fair enough."
Estelle returned to us, wiping rainwater from one of the tools. "The materials are intact, and the workshop survived. Barely. Thank you for the help."
Lumine nodded. "Glad we could help."
Nilou smiled. "I'm glad no one was seriously hurt."
Paimon placed her hands on her hips. "And those Confrérie guys better not come back!"
"They probably won't," Childe said cheerfully.
I looked at him. "Because of the debt?"
"Because of the debt," he said.
"Not because you enjoyed beating them up?"
"That too."
"Honesty. Refreshing. Concerning."
Childe stepped back into the rain, seemingly ready to leave as casually as he had arrived. "Well, I shouldn't keep you. Fontaine has plenty to offer, and I'm sure you have your own path to follow."
Lumine glanced down at the Vision in her hand. "Childe…"
He waved lightly. "Don't look so serious, Traveler. I'll come get it back eventually."
"That is not reassuring," Paimon said.
"It wasn't meant to be."
Nilou bowed her head politely. "Please take care of yourself."
Childe paused, then smiled at her. "You're kind."
"She is," I said immediately. "And if your battle maniac energy stresses her out, I will throw you into the nearest fountain."
Nilou looked mortified. "Shigeru."
Childe laughed. "I'll keep that in mind."
Greg flicked his tail.
I nodded. "Greg says he'll supervise."
Childe looked at Greg. "I look forward to it."
"Stop making friends with my lizard."
With one last wave, Childe walked away through the rain, orange hair bright even under the gray Fontaine sky. He moved like he always did, fearless and loose, like the world was just one good fight away from making sense. To anyone else, he looked fine.
Annoying.
Dangerous.
Cheerful.
Fine.
But I watched him go and felt the rain settle colder against my skin.
The ginger wallet problem had arrived.
And beneath his smile, something ancient was already stirring.
Lumine stepped beside me, Childe's Vision resting in her palm. "You know something."
"I know too many things."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the safest one."
Nilou looked toward where Childe had disappeared. "He really is friendly, but not safe."
Paimon crossed her arms. "Paimon told you!"
I smiled faintly. "Yeah. He's a walking contradiction. A friend who might try to fight you, an enemy who might pay for dinner, a Harbinger who loves his family, and a battle maniac with something dark following him around like a second shadow."
Lumine's grip closed around the Vision. "And Fontaine is connected to it?"
I looked toward the rain-dark street, the direction of the opera house, the courts, the prophecy, the dragon, and the stage waiting for all of us.
"Everything in Fontaine is connected," I said.
Paimon groaned. "Paimon hates when you say things like that."
"Me too."
"Then stop!"
"I would love to."
Greg's tail rested against my neck, and Nilou's hand found mine while Lumine stepped closer on the other side. The workshop behind us returned slowly to its rhythm, machinery humming again as if violence, debt, prophecy, and Fatui visits were just another Tuesday in Fontaine.
Maybe they were.
The rain continued.
The city waited.
And somewhere ahead, the opera house was preparing to raise its curtain.
_______
End of Chapter 186
Quests Completed:
Delivered Magic Pocket materials to Beaumont Workshop.
Met Estelle, the boss of Beaumont Workshop.
Learned that Fontaine emergency supplies are somehow both practical and dramatic.
Encountered Truand and the Confrérie of Cabriere.
Successfully interrupted a protection-fee shakedown.
Reunited with Childe, the ginger wallet problem.
Roasted Childe within three seconds of his appearance.
Introduced Nilou to Childe for the first time.
Introduced Greg to Childe for the first time.
Confirmed Nilou's first impression: friendly, but not safe.
Allowed Greg to judge a Fatui Harbinger and receive respect for it.
Teased Childe for being single while Shigeru already bagged two baddies.
Received corrective bonks from Lumine for romantic misconduct.
Defeated the Confrérie without destroying Beaumont Workshop.
Detected Childe's Vision malfunction.
Received Childe's Hydro Vision from him.
Successfully withheld Abyss Whale spoilers despite extreme internal screaming.
Confirmed that the ginger wallet problem is not merely comedy, but foreshadowing.
Rewards:
+1 Childe Reunion Chaos
+1 Nilou Cautious First Impression
+1 Greg Harbinger Judgment
+1 Lumine Bonk Combo
+1 Paimon Anti-Childe Complaint Stack
+1 Estelle Workshop Survival
+1 Shigeru Romantic Bragging Punishment
+1 Hydro Vision Obtained
+1 Abyss Whale Anxiety
+1 Fontaine Plot Thread Tightened
New Passive Unlocked: "Baddies Secured, Bonks Received"
New Party Skill: "Friendly But Not Safe"
Temporary Key Item Acquired: Childe's Hydro Vision.
Warning Added: Do Not Let Shigeru Introduce His Fiancées Unsupervised.
Future Boss Foreshadowing Increased: Something Ancient Beneath the Water.