Genshin Impact: A Fool

Heins's gaze was downcast as he replied, his tone low and regretful, "I... Have gone against your decree, Your Majesty. I have come back without presenting the proof that I am worthy to be of the Harbinger, and to become the title you have promised me, Fatui's Resplendent Sword. But I have no other choice, my Mistress... She has to know that I am not dead but alive. She has to know...!"

The Tsaritsa interjected, "That's not the point I wish to make. I was disappointed by the way you act. A Fatui must be cold-headed. Your Mistress was distraught, yes, but her life was not endangered in any way. She was of my subject, and I would not let her suffer."

"As for the trial I decreed upon you six months ago, you have proven yourself worthy. You have grown exceptionally strong, one that this queen would not overlooked. To be able to fight against Pierro for three days proved of your capability."

The Tsaritsa then stood up and with a flick of her fingers, a resplendent sword descended from the sky of the palace. Heins widened his eyes, "Y-Your Majesty...?"

The Tsaritsa's face was ice cold as she waved her hand, the golden blade descending before the kneeling form of Heins as she decreed, "Fool, I hereby declare you as Fatui's Resplendent Sword. You are to be my sword, one that would not hesitate to cut down those who threaten the Fatui. Your status is equivalent to the Fifth Rank of the Fatui Harbingers, just below your Mistress. I acknowledged your ability, and henceforth you are granted the status. Do you accept?"

Heins stared at the resplendent sword before him, hardly daring to believe his eyes. The blade seemed to shimmer and dance in the icy light of the palace, its golden edge sharp enough to cut through the very air. Heins's heart raced, a mix of awe and disbelief coursing through his veins.

"Your Majesty..." he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. "Does this mean...? Are you saying that I have truly earned it?"

The Tsaritsa regarded him with her piercing icy blue eyes, her expression unreadable.

"Indeed," she said, her voice echoing through the vast chamber.

She took a step closer to him, her white hair billowing behind her like a cloak of purest snow.

"The trial I set upon you six months ago was not meant to be a mere formality. It was a test of your mettle, your resolve, your very worthiness to stand beside your Mistress and served as my sword. And you... you have passed with satisfactory results."

Heins felt a surge of emotion well up within him, a mix of relief, joy, and a fierce, unshakable pride.

He had done it. After all the hardships, all the trials and tribulations, he had finally proven himself worthy of the title he so desperately craved.

"Thank you, Your Majesty," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I will not let you down. I will be the sword Arlecchino needs, the guardian she deserves. I swear it."

The Tsaritsa nodded, a faint, enigmatic smile playing at the corners of her lips. "See that you do not," she said, her voice a low, dangerous purr.

"For now, rise and take up your sword. Go to your Mistress, and let her know of your triumph. But remember, Fool... your true trial begins now."

With that, the Tsaritsa turned and swept out of the chamber, leaving Heins alone with Pierro and the resplendent sword that would be his eternal companion.

Pierro watched as Heins reached out and grasped the hilt of the blade, a glint of something almost like approval in his enigmatic eye. "You've done well, boy," he said, his voice a low, enigmatic murmur. "This is just the beginning."

Heins met Pierro's gaze, a fierce, unshakable determination burning in his crimson eyes.

"I know," he said, his voice ringing out clear and strong.

With that, Heins rose to his feet, the resplendent sword held aloft in his hand. He took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the blade, the power that now flowed through his veins.

His journey was far from over, but he knew that he had taken the first step on a path that would lead him to greatness. And he would walk that path with his head held high, a true and loyal servant of the Tsaritsa, and the love of his life - his Mistress, his everything, Arlecchino.

Thus, from today onwards, he is not just Fool. No, he is Fool, Fatui's Resplendent Sword!

Afterward, Pierro gave him an outfit usually wore by the higher-ranked executives of the Fatui, a white cloak and a face mask.

Pierro then invited Heins over to a calm expanse and began to explain, clearly intending to have a talk with the younger man, "Well then, Fatui's Resplendent Sword, shall we go to your Mistress?"

Heins furrowed his eyebrows as he asked, his body still wounded and bloody, "What exactly happened to her?"

Pierro looked at the snowy landscape and began, "Since Arlecchino would go to such a length for you, then perhaps you have the right to know about who your Mistress truly was. I told you this... As a form of my trust, you could say. Fatui is not in harmony, but as a Director, can't let the Harbingers die meaninglessly, correct?"

Heins nodded in unease as he flinched. The exposed flesh of his knee was not doing very good against the cold. Pierro just glanced at it and continue,

"You see, my junior Fool, Arlecchino is... A remnant of an ancient clan, you could say. She was of a descendant of the clan, and she was the last of its kind. The clan's dreams, motives, power, curse, everything that define the clan... All of them resided within her."

Heins turned thoughtful as he inquired, "What... What does this signify?"

Pierro glanced at the bloody boy and showed a humourless smile, "Arlecchino has the power of the Ancient Crimson Moon Dynasty in her very veins, a clan that worshipped the Crimson Moon Goddess. In the past, a... Calamity struck, and within the Crimson Moon bloodline, appeared a curse, originated from the very Goddess they worshipped, taking the form of the symbols you saw on her wrists. In exchange, she could burst in splendorous, extinctive power, the endless, destructive flame that could engulf the world. The more agitated she was, the greater her power would be. And the greater her power, the more severe the curse would be. One day, if she could not control this power... She would be engulfed and become a being that will burn the world."

Pierro turned his focus to the snowy forest and continued, "Only Arlecchino herself knows the specific. That's why you must calm her down fast. For if she remained the way she was, it would be too late if she has become a lost cause. Loving an extraordinary woman came with a price. So are you ready? Or perhaps you need time to recuperate yourself?"

Though he said all this, Pierro seems to be unbothered and even showed a cruel amusement in his smile. Worthy of being the Director of the Fatui Harbingers.

Heins gritted his teeth as blood flows out of his wounds, but he scoffed as he replied, "Show me where my Mistress is, Your Highness. It's better for me to be damned rather than her life."

Hearing this, Pierro chuckled coldly as he walked, "Very well. Follow me. Arlecchino is in the Fatui's grand library, still obsessed for searching ancient tomes and alike. Hahaha..."

Pierro led Heins through the sprawling, icy halls of the Zapolyarny Palace, the young man's footsteps echoing loudly in the eerie silence. Despite his grievous wounds and the biting cold, Heins followed doggedly behind the enigmatic Harbinger, his resolve unwavering.

As they walked, Pierro glanced back at Heins, a glint of something almost like respect in his eye. "You're a stubborn one, aren't you?" he said, his voice a low, amused murmur. "Most men would be begging for a healer by now, but you... you're different. It's a rare quality in a world filled with the weak and the wanting."

Heins met Pierro's gaze, a fierce, unshakable determination burning in his crimson eyes. "I won't let anything stop me from getting to her," he said, his voice ringing out clear and strong despite the pain that wracked his body. "Not even the cold, not even the agony of my wounds. I will be there for her, no matter what it takes."

Pierro nodded, a cruel smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Good," he said, his voice a low, dangerous purr. "A man who knows what he wants, who will stop at nothing to achieve his goals... that is a man worthy of respect. And you, Fool, have more than earned mine."

As they rounded a final corner, the grand library of the Fatui came into view. Towering bookshelves stretched out in every direction, filled with ancient tomes and scrolls that dated back centuries. At the center of it all was a massive, ornate desk, and seated behind it was Arlecchino herself.

She was hunched over a particularly ancient-looking book, her white hair, tied in a thin tail flowed on her back like a waterfall of silk. She seemed oblivious to the world around her, lost in the depths of the knowledge she sought. But as Heins and Pierro approached, she looked up, her icy obsidian eyes widening in surprise.

"Pierro," she said, her voice a low, dangerous purr. "What brings you here? And who is this...?" Her gaze fell upon Heins, and her eyes widened further as she took in his battered, bloodied form. "Fool? Is that... is that really you?"

Heins stepped forward, his heart racing in his chest. "Mistress," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I... I'm here. I'm alive. I'm sorry for making you worry."

Arlecchino rose to her feet, her chair screeching loudly against the icy floor. She stared at Heins, her expression a mix of shock, relief, and a fierce, burning joy. "Fool," she breathed, her voice trembling slightly. "You... you're really here. You're alive."

Heins took in her appearance. Her white uneven bangs and the cute fright of black. The way her thin tied hair flowed behind her. The way her obsidian eyes shimmered with their red 'X'.

Heins missed her.

However, he knows this is not the time yet, because as Pierro said, Arlecchino... Was still in stuck in her obsession.

She keeps repeating the things she just said. "Fool, you're alive. You're alive. You're alive you're alive you're alive you're alive...!!!"

Heins turned solemn, his eyes shone with grief, regret, guilt and rage. As he took a step back, Pierro merely stood at the side as a spectator and said, his tone filled with cruel mirth, "Get ready. The true form of your Mistress... It will be revealed."

As he said so, Arlecchino burst in a cacophony of crimson and pitch-black. Her graceful form levitated as a semblance in form of a red, black scythe thick with ominous miasma appeared in her hand.

Crimson, pitch-black wing-shaped semblances served as her wings, hovering behind her back. The library turned dark as a massive black moon appeared behind her, covered in a crimson outline. The whole place was like a domain of black and crimson, eerie and terrifying to an unimaginable degree.

Arlecchino's 'X' red symbols on her obsidian eyes glowed eerily. Her now darkened outfit turned into a more menacing, deadly suit with a deep V-cut, revealing a bit of her chest. A red horn appeared at the left side of her crown head.

Heins looked up as the library turned dark, his crimson eyes shone as he gritted his teeth. "Mistress...."

"Fool! You lied! You lied to me! How dare you?! How dare you lied?!" Arlecchino's voice raged as she roared. Heins took a step back as he unsheathed the resplendent sword bestowed by the Tsaritsa.

And Pierro, standing at the side, coldly watched as the scene unfolded, having no intention to interfere, "This is your responsibility, little Fool. Let's see how you handle Arlecchino halfway through her true form." With a cruel smile, he chuckled lightly, "Ah, a lover's quarrel, how exciting."

Heins stood his ground, the resplendent sword held aloft in his trembling hand. He could feel the power radiating from Arlecchino, the oppressive aura that threatened to crush him where he stood. But he did not falter. He could not falter. Not when she needed him most.

"Mistress," he said, his voice steady and clear despite the searing guilt that gripped his heart. "I did not lie. I... I was forced to confront the Abyss."

Arlecchino's eyes flashed with a terrifying light, the red 'X' symbols burning like hellish brands. "Did not lie?" she snarled, her voice a cacophony of rage and anguish. "You thought you could do whatever you want, leaving me in the dark? How dare you?!"

She took a step forward, the scythe in her hand pulsing with a sinister energy. The black moon behind her seemed to grow larger, its crimson outline pulsing in time with the furious beating of Heins's heart.

"I am the Fourth Seat of the Fatui Harbingers," she screamed, her voice echoing through the darkened library. 'I will not lose you, not my own Fool!"

Heins felt a surge of sorrow rise up within him, mixing with the regret and guilt that already consumed him. He tightened his grip on the sword, the golden blade singing as it cut through the air.

"Then let me help you, Mistress," he said, his voice ringing out with a fierce, unshakable determination. "Let me be the sword you need, the shield that protects you from the darkness within and without."

Arlecchino hesitated, a flicker of something almost like pain crossing her face. But it was gone as quickly as it had come, replaced by a renewed surge of rage.

"You cannot help me, Fool," she said, her voice a low, dangerous hiss. "You can only make things worse. You can only feed the curse that consumes me. You only make things worse!"

She raised the scythe, the blade glinting with a sinister light. "But if you insist on trying, then you will have to face the consequences. You will have to face the true power of your Mistress."

Heins stood his ground, the resplendent sword held high. He knew the risks, knew the dangers that lay ahead. But he also knew that he could not abandon Arlecchino, not now, not ever.

"Then I will face it with you," he said, his voice ringing out with a fierce, unshakable resolve. "I will stand by your side, no matter what form the darkness takes. I will be your light in the darkness, your anchor in the storm."

And with that, Heins charged forward, the resplendent sword held aloft, ready to face the true power of his beloved Mistress and the curse that threatened to consume her. The battle for Arlecchino's soul had begun, and Heins would not rest until he had saved her from the abyss that threatened to swallow her whole.

The heart never lies. As Heins took on a deadly graze from her scythe, which left a brutal wound on his already wounded chest, he realized this as his hand involuntarily froze when his sword was about to hurt his Mistress.

He realized... That he could never bring himself to hurt her. How foolish one could be to not resist when he was in a deadly clash? Heins's bloody face donned a wry smile as he got kicked by his Mistress, sending him sprawling to the ground.

Arlecchino's eyes flashed with a terrifying light as she bore down on Heins, the scythe poised to strike. Tears streamed down her face, but her expression was a mask of anguished rage, her obsession blinding her to the truth of her beloved Fool's plight.

"How can you resist me, Fool?" she screamed, her voice a cacophony of pain and fury. "After all I've done for you, after all I've sacrificed to keep you by my side? You dare to defy me now?"

Heins struggled to his feet, his body wracked with agony from his countless wounds. He could feel the blood flowing freely from the deep gash on his chest, the pain searing and all-consuming. But even as he gasped for breath, he refused to raise his sword against his Mistress.

"Mistress," he said, his voice a ragged whisper. "I... This... Is not the way."

Arlecchino let out a sound of pure anguish, the scythe trembling in her hand. "You fool," she cried, her voice breaking. "Don't you understand? I need you. I need you to be strong, to be the sword I require. But if you won't fight me... then I'll have no choice but to destroy you myself."

Her words are incoherent, as if she was fighting to take control.

She lunged forward, the scythe slicing through the air with a bone-chilling whistle. Heins barely managed to dive out of the way in time, the blade missing him by a hair's breadth.

He rolled to his feet, his heart pounding in his chest as he faced his Mistress once more.

"Please, Mistress," he begged, his voice hoarse with emotion. "Snap out of this obsession. You're hurting yourself more than you could ever hurt me. I'm still here, I'm still your Fool. I'll always be your Fool."

Pierro watched the scene unfold with a cold, amused smile. He shook his head slowly, a look of cruel disappointment on his face. "A pity," he said, his voice a low, mocking murmur. "To be so torn between love and duty, between the heart and the head. It's a fate most men would hate, and for a boy like you... it's a fate most cruel."

Heins knew Pierro was right. He was caught between two impossible choices, his heart and his loyalty warring with every fiber of his being. But even as the pain of his wounds threatened to overwhelm him, even as the sight of his Mistress's anguished face tore at his soul, he knew he could not abandon her. Not now, not ever.

"Then I'll find a third way," he said, his voice ringing out with a fierce, unshakable determination. "I'll find a way to save you from yourself, Mistress. I swear it, on my life and my love for you."

And with that, Heins charged forward once more, the resplendent sword held high. He would not fight his Mistress, but he would not let her destroy herself either. Somehow, someway, he would find a path to redemption for them both. Even if it meant sacrificing everything he held dear.

Heins rushed to Arlecchino like a moth to a flame, his crimson eyes cold and resolute. He clashed against her scythe, matching her blow by blow. He was no way inferior to her in terms of strength of speed. However, Heins... Would never hurt her. He wouldn't let even a single graze to don her graceful form.

Arlecchino's eyes blazed with a manic, obsessed light as she clashed against Heins, her scythe a whirlwind of crimson death.

She poured all her anguish, all her desperate need, into every devastating blow. "Fool!" she screamed, tears and blood mingling on her face. "Why won't you fight back? Why won't you let go?"

Heins met her attacks with grim determination, the resplendent sword a blur of golden light against the hellish crimson, with red blood crimson currents accompanying his every stroke.

He matched her speed, her strength, her ferocity. But with every block, every parry, he made certain his blade never touched her. Not a single scratch marred her skin, not a single bruise darkened her flesh.

Each searing impact of scythe against sword sent agony lancing through Heins's body, but he endured it.

Each scorching wave of Pyro energy crashed over him like a tidal wave of flame, but he withstood it. Each psychic assault of Arlecchino's rage battered against his mind like a sledgehammer, but he weathered it.

Heins's crimson eyes, once warm and loving, now shone with cold, steely resolve. He would not fight his Mistress, but neither would he let her destroy herself.

He would take every blow, every wound, every ounce of her anguish. He would be her shield, her bulwark against the darkness that threatened to consume her.

"Mistress," he gritted out, his voice a low, strained rasp. "I will never leave you. I will never abandon you. But I cannot fight you, not like this. I cannot let you hurt yourself any more than you already have."

Arlecchino's attacks grew wilder, more desperate. Her scythe left scorched gouges in the icy floor, her Pyro energy set the very air aflame. But Heins stood firm, a stalwart pillar against the storm of her obsession.

"Damn you!" she shrieked, her voice raw with pain and fury. "Damn you for making me feel this way! Damn you for forcing me to choose between my love for you and my duty to the Fatui!"

Heins met her gaze, his eyes shining with unshed tears and unshakable devotion.

"Then I choose for you, Mistress," he said, his voice ringing out clear and strong. "I choose a path where you need not destroy yourself to keep me by your side. I choose a future where your love and your duty need not be mutually exclusive."

Heins's words seemed to give Arlecchino pause. She faltered, her scythe dipping slightly as a flicker of doubt crossed her face. In that moment, Heins saw a chance, a glimmer of hope amidst the chaos.

"Please, Mistress," he said, his voice a fervent plea. "Let me help you find that path. Let me be the light that guides you out of this darkness. I swear to you, on my life and my love, that I will never leave your side. Not now, not ever."

"Shut up!!!" Arlecchino roared as her flame became more and more malevolent. The pitch-black moon trembled as the darkened domain of crimson shook. Arlecchino became more and more demonic as her power set aflame. Heins gritted his teeth, not minding the flowing blood from the wounds he received from his Mistress.

The darkened space is becoming more and more unstable. Terrifying semblance of weapons hovered around the uncontrolled Arlecchino like treasures of hell. Arlecchino's darkened suit is becoming more and more malevolent, more... Terrifying.

Her voice, demonic and blood-curling, snarled, "Die for me!"

Heins disappeared in a heap of crimson currents just about time when a humongous, eerie pitch-black spike arose from the ground. Heins could feel the throb of his wounds, the exhaustion of fighting for three days straight, but his heart became his source of inexhaustible strength. It became what hold him up as he resisted the relentless onslaught of his Mistress.

Pierro, who watched from the side, breathed out, "She was almost consumed..."

"Fuck!" Heins cursed as a spike of pitch-black stabbed him in the arm, forcing him to take a ruthless jab from his Mistress, sending him sprawling to the wall of the library.

Arlecchino loomed over Heins, her form now a terrifying fusion of crimson and onyx, a nightmarish amalgamation of power and anguish. Her eyes blazed like hellish coals, the red 'X' symbols pulsing with a malevolent light. She raised her scythe, the blade dripping with eldritch energy, poised to deliver a devastating blow.

"You cannot stop me, Fool," she snarled, her voice a demonic rasp. "You cannot hold me back any longer. I need you. I NEED YOU DEAD!"

Heins struggled to his feet, his arm bleeding freely from the spike's wound. Pain lanced through him, a symphony of agony that sang in time with his racing heart.

Exhaustion weighed heavy on his limbs, the toll of three days of unrelenting battle threatening to drag him down into the abyss. But still, he stood, his crimson eyes blazing with an unquenchable light.

"Mistress," he said, his voice a ragged whisper.

He took a step forward, then another, closing the distance between them. Arlecchino's blade sliced the air, leaving scorched trails in its wake, but Heins did not falter.

He reached out, his blood-stained hand outstretched, his eyes locked onto Arlecchino's.

"Please," he begged, his voice raw and broken. "Come back to me. Come back to yourself. I know you're in there, Mistress. I know the woman I love, the woman who saved me, who gave me a purpose, is still there. Don't let this darkness consume you. Don't let it take you from me."

Pierro watched, a mix of concern and cruel amusement playing across his face. "She teeters on the edge," he murmured.

"The origin calls to her, whispers to her, urging her to plunge in and embrace the darkness. Hm... I wonder, is she... Reversible?"

Arlecchino trembled, her form flickering between terrifying power and heart-wrenching vulnerability.

Tears of blood and anguish streamed down her face as she stared at Heins, her beloved Fool, who dared to reach out to her in the midst of her descent into madness.

"Fool," she whispered, her voice a broken, haunted thing. "You don't understand. I can't... I can't control it. It's too much. The curse, the power, the need... it's consuming me."

Heins took another step forward, until he was standing before her, so close he could feel the searing heat of her Pyro energy, the icy chill of her rage. He looked up at her, his eyes shining with unshed tears and an unshakable, unwavering love.

He showed a gentle smile, a warm light shone in his crimson eyes, like when he promised his Mistress splendorous things back when he was but a boy, "Then... Since I am your obsession, perhaps it would be better... For me to do it myself."

"My life is yours, Mistress."

Then with a grip beckoned by his faith and his will, Heins grasped the crimson scythe and plunged it into his beating heart.

The semblance pierced his torso like an axe lunged into a soft log, undeterred and unstoppable.

He coughed out some blood, yet his crimson eyes shone with warm, and for the first time, love. It was only at this moment that he dared to show it. Unbothered by consequences and undeterred by constraints.

"Mistress..."

Arlecchino stood frozen, her eyes wide with shock and horror as she watched Heins plunge the scythe into his own heart.

The world seemed to slow, the crimson energy flickering and wavering as if uncertain. As the blade pierced Heins's flesh, a bloom of blood erupted from the wound, the crimson liquid painting the resplendent sword and Arlecchino's hands.

"No!" Arlecchino screamed, her voice a raw, anguished wail that echoed through the library. She lunged forward, catching Heins as he crumpled, his lifeblood seeping away. She cradled him against her chest, her tears falling like rain upon his face.

"Fool," she sobbed, her voice breaking on the word. "What have you done? What have you done?"

As Heins lay in her arms, his life ebbing away, Arlecchino's form began to change.

The demonic aura that had consumed her receded, the crimson energy dissipating like mist in the morning light. Her suit returned to its usual pristine white, the fabric crisp and unmarred. The pitch-black moon faded, the library returning to its familiar, comforting normality.

Arlecchino's face, once a mask of terrifying beauty, now wore an expression of pure, unadulterated anguish.

Tears streamed down her cheeks, cutting trails through the blood and grime. Her eyes, once burning with mad obsession, now shone with a heart-wrenching mix of love, fear, and despair.

"Fool," she whispered, her voice a broken, agonized thing. "My beloved Fool... what have you done to yourself? How could you... how could you do this for me?"

She looked down at the scythe still embedded in his chest, the blade slick with his blood. Her hands trembled as she reached for it, her fingers brushing against the hilt. But she hesitated, unable to bear the thought of causing him any more pain.

"Please," she begged, her voice a desperate, fervent plea. "Please don't leave me. Please don't abandon me now, not after everything... not after you've shown me the truth of your love."

Heins looked up at her, his crimson eyes still shining with that gentle, warm light. A weak smile tugged at his lips, a ghost of his usual mischievous grin. "Mistress," he breathed, his voice a rasping whisper. "You're... so beautiful... when you let yourself feel..."

Arlecchino let out a choked sob, burying her face in Heins's hair. She clung to him like a drowning woman to a raft, her body shaking with the force of her grief and fear.

"I'm not beautiful," she cried. "I'm a monster, a creature of darkness and obsession. I'm not worthy of your love, your sacrifice..."

Heins reached up with a trembling hand, his fingers brushing against Arlecchino's cheek. He wiped away a tear, his touch achingly gentle. "You're worthy of everything," he said, his voice growing weaker by the second.

"You're worthy of love, of happiness, of a chance to be free of the darkness that's haunted you for so long. And I... I want to be the one to give you that chance. I want to be the light that guides you out of the abyss, now and forever."

Arlecchino shook her head, her tears falling faster than ever.

"No," she said, her voice a broken, anguished wail. "No, I won't let you sacrifice yourself for me. I won't let you throw your life away, not when you have so much left to live for. You're my Fool, my sword, my shield... you're my everything. And I won't lose you, not like this, not ever."

She looked around the library, her eyes falling upon Pierro. "Help me," she begged, her voice a desperate, pleading thing. "Please, help me save him. I can't... I can't lose him. I can't go back to being the monster I once was. Not now, not after he's shown me the truth of his love, the truth of what it means to be human."

Arlecchino trembled, no longer capable of putting up an indifferent facade. She was desperate, like how a weak woman cries for her beloved love.

Right now, she is not the Fourth Seat of the Fatui Harbingers, nor is she a ruthless killer who would do anything to protect the interest of the Tsaritsa. Right now, she was just a mere woman, a woman with a heart full of love and grief as she watched the person she loves on the verge of death.

"Please..."

At the back, Pierro heard her plead and ceased his cruel amusement a little bit.

At the same time, he couldn't help but marvel. How long has it been... When a cruel Harbinger cried out desperately for something as tender as love? He looked at Heins, and finally, he looked at Arlecchino, who's icy-cold face now turned red in desperation and emotional turmoil.

Pierro chuckled wryly, still somewhat in disbelief by the absurdity of this all. After all, seeing is believing.

In the end, he exited the library and said, his tone laced with exasperation and perhaps a little bit of compassion, "I'll ask Dottore for a favor. If it's that man, I'm sure he had a way to save Fool, Arlecchino."

Arlecchino cradled Heins close, rocking him gently as if to soothe a child. She peppered his face with desperate kisses, her tears falling like rain upon his skin. "Please, please don't leave me," she begged, her voice a broken, anguished whisper. "I can't lose you, my beloved Fool. I can't go back to being the monster I once was, not now, not ever."

She looked up at Pierro as he left, a flicker of hope sparking in her eyes. "Dottore," she breathed, the name a prayer on her lips. She had heard the tales of the Fatui's physician, the man who thrived to create a god. If anyone could save Heins, it was him.

Arlecchino turned her gaze back to Heins, her heart aching at the sight of him. She traced the contours of his face with trembling fingers, committing every line, every plane to memory.

"Hold on, my love," she whispered. "Hold on, and come back to me. Come back to the life we could have together, a life free from the shadows of the past."

She pressed her forehead to his, her tears mingling with the blood on his skin. "I love you," she said, the words a fervent, desperate vow, no longer constrained by her own codes and the Fatui. The most important thing... Is Fool.

"I love you more than anything in this world or the next. And I swear to you, on the life you've given me, that I will spend every moment of every day proving it to you. I will be the Mistress you deserve, the woman worthy of your love and devotion."

Heins's breathing grew shallow, his heartbeat fluttering like a bird's wings in his chest. Arlecchino felt a surge of panic, a primal fear that threatened to consume her.

She could not lose him, not now, not ever. He was her heart, her soul, the very air in her lungs. Without him, she would be lost, a hollow shell of a woman, a creature of darkness and despair.

"Please," she begged, her voice a desperate, broken thing. "Please don't leave me in the darkness. Be the light that guides me, now and forever. Be the love that heals the wounds of my past and allows me to build a future with you."

She closed her eyes, her tears flowing freely now, her heart laid bare. "I am yours," she said, her voice a fervent, desperate vow. "I am yours, now and for all eternity. And I will spend the rest of my days proving it to you, my beloved Fool. My heart, my soul, my everything... it belongs to you."

Arlecchino held Heins close, her tears soaking into his shirt, her love a tangible force that surrounded them both. She waited, her heart pounding in her chest, her breath held in desperate anticipation.

She waited for Dottore, for the hope he represented. She waited for Heins to open his eyes, to look at her with those beautiful, beloved crimson eyes, and to tell her that he was still here, that he would always be here, her Fool, her love, her everything.

A few moments later, the tall and enigmatic Pierro came back with II Dottore. The maniacal doctor, usually snarky and witty, almost stumbled as he looked at the sobbing Arlecchino. This is Arlecchino, the Fourth Seat of the Fatui Harbingers? The woman who had thousands of ways to torture her enemy?

Dottore looked at Pierro and asked, his usually eerie tone disbelief and curious, "Pierro, is this... Is this Arlecchino?"

Pierro nodded as he answered, "Indeed. I, for once, was also taken back. It's... The first time perhaps that a Harbinger has fallen in love. And as you know, love is a powerful concept. One that could bypassed the coldest of women. But enough of that, help her stabilized Fool. And do it quick, before it's too late."

Noticing a slight grim tone in Pierro's voice, Dottore nodded. He kneeled before the critical Heins and immediately began his operation. Arlecchino trembled when Dottore asked her to remove Heins from her embrace, but knowing that it was important, she relented.

After stabilizing Heins with numerous elixirs and potions, Dottore said solemnly, "Little Fool must have a replacement for his heart. If it was merely physical wound, then it would be no problem, but this scythe... It held a property that even targeted the 'soul' and the existence of it itself. I need the help of Sandrone in order to create a functioning automation heart."

Dottore, no matter how cold, couldn't help but let out an imperceptible sigh as he witnessed the now vulnerable Arlecchino. He shared a glance with Pierro who indifferently nodded and understood.

It seems like Pierro wished to keep this under the rug. Harbingers are Fatui's most powerful members, and if a rumor spread that one of them cried for her love, it would be tantamount to ruining Fatui's reputation.

Pierro and Dottore are cunning and cruel Harbingers, not monsters. They do still have a moral compass. Taking advantage of a woman who was desperate to save her lover is something that even they looked down upon. Well, a desperate Harbinger that is. A desperate stranger? Hm, perhaps...

Arlecchino listened to Dottore's words, her heart clenching in her chest. A replacement heart? The thought of Heins's beautiful, brave heart being replaced by some mechanical imitation filled her with a profound sense of loss and despair.

But if it meant saving him, if it meant giving him a chance at life, at a future with her... she would bear any burden, endure any hardship.

She looked up at Dottore, her eyes red-rimmed and haunted. "Do it," she said, her voice a hoarse whisper. "Do whatever it takes to save him. I don't care about the cost, I don't care about the consequences. I just... I just want him to live. I want him to be happy, to be free, to have a chance at the life he deserves."

Dottore nodded, his face imperceptible due to his mask "I will ensure his survival," he said. "But I must warn you, Arlecchino... The transition from a human heart to an automaton one is never easy, never certain."

Arlecchino closed her eyes, a single tear slipping down her cheek. She knew the risks, knew the challenges that lay ahead.

But she also knew that she would be by Heins's side every step of the way, guiding him, supporting him, loving him through the darkness and into the light.

She looked at Pierro, her expression a mix of gratitude and something almost like pleading. "Thank you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you for bringing Dottore, for giving Fool a chance. I know... I know this is not something the Fatui would normally condone. But I am in your debt, Pierro. Now and forever."

Pierro inclined his head, a rare moment of understanding passing between them. "See that he lives," he said, his voice a gruff command. "After that, we could talk about debts."

AN: Just this time I softened Dottore a bit. You know how unhinged and heinous that man was. As for Pierro, I figured that the man was the Jester, so an act of sigh or two wouldn't be too strange. But anyway, this chapter is way too emotional.

I am already cackling at the thought of Furina facing not one, but two terrifying killers. Mwehehehehe—