The Lady stood in her lavish suite at the Goethe Hotel, her mind analyzing the day's failure. "I'll visit this Galehaven Comics tomorrow and uncover its secrets myself." More pressing matters now demanded her attention—Stormterror and the Sky Lyre, which were keys to finding Barbatos and tightening her control on Mondstadt.
She fixed her icy gaze on Luke, the trembling Fatui agent at her feet, her voice cutting like frost. "Tell the Thunderhammer Vanguard to secure the Sky Lyre tonight—no delays." The lyre held traces of Anemo power and a path to the wind god, a prize she wouldn't let slip away. Luke's squad had been devastated by Jean's outburst, leaving manpower thin—she would spare him punishment for now, to keep things moving.
"Yes, Lady, I'll relay it at once," Luke stammered, scrambling to his feet with a nod, relief flooding him as he fled the room. Sweat soaked his back—he had dodged her wrath, a rare mercy from a Harbinger known for ruthlessness and feared by her subordinates. "I'd better find the Vanguard fast," he muttered, knowing another failure might cost him more than a scolding next time. His figure vanished into the hotel's shadowed halls, haste driving his steps toward the Fatui's next move.
Across Mondstadt, Harlan Flint walked from his alley, the city's night unfolding before him in a tapestry of light and life. "What a vibrant place," he thought, taking in the bustling streets—crowds gathered despite the late hour, their energy infectious. Unlike the game's compact map, this Mondstadt sprawled vast and vivid, yet its core layout echoed the familiar—fountain here, restaurant there.
The Deer Hunter beckoned, its sign a beacon near the wishing fountain, pulling him along a route he knew from countless playthroughs. He stepped up to the counter, his voice casual. "One fried pork with carrots in honey sauce, please." Mondstadt's signature dish was a must—why visit without tasting its sweet, savory comfort?
Sarah, the server, blinked at him, her cheeks turning pink. "O-okay, take a seat over there—it'll be ready soon." His easy charm flustered her, her words stumbling as she took his order, a reaction Harlan met with a polite smile. He paid and chose a quiet corner table, the noise of the growing crowd a distant hum from his secluded spot. "If Galehaven Comics was here instead of that back alley, I'd be swamped with customers," he mused, eyeing the throng with a twinge of regret. The system's choice baffled him—prime real estate always beat obscurity in business, yet here he was, tucked away.
As he waited, the Deer Hunter filled up, every table buzzing with chatter—except his, a lone island in the bustle. Two figures approached from afar—one in red with chestnut hair and a bunny knot, the other in blue, her knightly uniform crisp and cool. Amber and Eula, Knights of Favonius, wove through the crowd, fresh from duty and seeking a rare break. Amber had convinced Eula to come out, unwilling to let her friend brood alone in her quarters after a long day's tasks.
"I had planned to sharpen my blade, but you've stopped me—this slight is noted," Eula said, her tone icy but familiar.
Amber grinned, undaunted. "Oh, sure, blame me—I'll make it up with fried pork and carrots in honey sauce, my treat!" She knew Eula's prickly demeanor hid no real malice, pulling her toward the counter with practiced ease.
"Good evening, Sarah!" Amber chirped, her warmth lighting up the exchange as Eula offered a brief nod.
"Evening, Miss Amber, Miss Eula—two fried pork with carrots, please," Sarah replied, smiling at the regulars. "It'll take a bit—busy night," she added with an apologetic tilt, gesturing to the packed tables.
Amber scanned the room, her scout's eyes sharp. "Ugh, it's packed—nowhere to sit."
Eula shifted, her voice low. "Let's get it to go—I'd rather not be crowded and cause trouble." Her Lawrence lineage drew wary glances, and she wouldn't want to hurt Sarah's business with her presence.
"No need—look, that table's nearly empty!" Amber countered, spotting Harlan's solitude and walking over. Eula reluctantly followed, her cool demeanor contrasting with Amber's cheerful bounce as they reached him.
"Hi, mind if we join you?" Amber asked, her smile bright and inviting.
Harlan looked up, recognizing them instantly—Amber's cheer and Eula's coldness were unmistakable. "Sure, go ahead." What were the chances of meeting these two tonight, right here at his table?