Chapter 2
WORD COUNT 2,425
PUBLISHED Jun 03, 2022
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Lumine should have expected this. It wasn’t like Childe to give in so easily, particularly with his job. He would do anything for the Tsaritsa and their cause. She couldn’t help but feel a brief pang of jealousy at the idea: he would rather betray her like this again and follow his lovely Cryo Archon Queen’s orders...
What was she thinking? Was she seriously still hung up by what he did in Liyue? If she was being honest, she was more upset by his deliberate duplicity than his attempted genocide.
But being honest with herself was never really Lumine’s strong suit.
Besides, Lumine always had a distaste for the Fatui’s actions—their underhanded tactics, getting people in danger, attempting to overthrow nations—and she was always the one cleaning up their messes when their plans inevitably fail.
Here she was, about to clean up their mess again.
In her many centuries alive, she had more than her fair share of mistakes and morally questionable actions. Signora, being the most recent. Did it make her a hypocrite for wanting to prevent another death? She was her enemy, but... It still didn’t feel right. It had been her fault, being consumed by fury above all else and challenging her to a duel, fully knowing the outcome. She couldn’t let that happen again. Not to her, and not to Childe.
Time and again, people had always used the excuse of choosing the lesser evil to benefit themselves. To uphold the status quo. Some of them even used her as an instrument for their own agenda, even. And she would not deny she hadn’t used that same excuse for herself. It’s a tale as old as time. It’s a tale that’s still happening now, and would continue to happen for as long as she lived, and after.
So when Lumine woke up in the middle of the night without Childe by her side, she knew something was up. Even if Scaramouche was an abhorrent person-automaton-whatever-he-was, she couldn’t let Childe go down that path and kill him. It was stupid, considering he was a Fatui Harbinger. Who knows what things Childe had already done? If he had already killed before?
Why was she so hung up on this? They were enemies, for Archons’ sake. None of this should come as a surprise to her. And yet, her heart ached at the idea of him going down a path she couldn’t follow. Not even if they were enemies.
At least he left a note on the table: Sorry, darling.
He was only ever sweet when he was about to do something stupid.
Lumine looked outside her room’s window. In the distance, storm clouds were brewing around the Grand Narukami Shrine. Thunderstorms in Inazuma used to be a normal sight, at least during the Sakoku Decree. But now, thunderstorms were supposed to be rare. Which means this storm wasn’t Ei’s doing.
Which means there’s only one place where Scaramouche and Childe could be battling it out.
It had to be Mt. Yougou, of all places.
Even with the teleporter technology, it was a pain to hike towards the mountain. Last night didn’t help; her legs were still recovering. She shook her head. I can’t believe I let this happen again.
From a distance, everything looked normal, aside from the thunderstorm. But as Lumine slowly approached the base of the mountain, she noticed it was quiet. Eerily quiet. No Fatui mages, no Mirror Maidens, no enemies in sight. But the telltale scent of ozone in the air told her to keep going.
Soon enough, she could see the blue and violet lightning flashes of their battle. It was mesmerizing, somehow, like watching a fireworks show, if fireworks were made of water and lightning.
Lumine continued forward, trying to make out the shapes of the Harbingers. Scaramouche was still his tiny self, but behind him was a larger, almost-holographic version of himself, mimicking his moves and doubling his power. Childe, on the other hand, hadn’t activated his Foul Legacy Transformation just yet, to Lumine’s surprise. He was using both his Vision and Delusion, alternating between Hydro and Electro, amplifying his elemental reactions.
Scaramouche had conjured a giant sword made of crackling Electro energy, just like the one the Raiden Shogun used in her 500-year duel with Ei.
The Musou Isshin.
Lumine’s thoughts started racing. If Scaramouche was built to be a prototype of the Shogun, that could mean he was also programmed with her moves.
Her heart beat in pace with her racing thoughts. Lumine knew what was coming, and she had to step in before it was too late. Childe was powerful, and he could easily hold his own against her. But after witnessing what happened to Signora...
Your fault. Your fault. Your fault. The voice in her head repeated. You’re worse than a monster, Lumine. You’re a hypocrite.
“Fuck off,” she muttered to herself. Lumine shoved that voice down where it was deep and inaccessible.
She couldn’t let what happened to Signora happen again. She would not take any chances. Not when Childe’s life was on the line.
Lumine ran as fast as her legs would let her. She ran, but it felt as if they were getting farther and farther from her, as if time was slowing and her legs were getting heavier. Scaramouche cleaved the air with Electro, tearing a hole in the dimension, and within, a giant mechanical arm emerged, ready to unleash the Final Calamity.
The Final Calamity—the Shogun’s trademark move. Impossible to dodge. Impossible to survive.
Childe sensed this somehow, and he finally transformed to his Foul Legacy to brace himself from the damage. But it wasn’t enough. The makeshift Musou Isshin slashed through him, rendering him unconscious. Lumine hoped he was only unconscious, because she couldn’t bear to even think about the alternative.
No, not when she was this close. But still so far away. Her legs ached, but she kept running.
Scaramouche transformed back into himself, his Electro shadow hovering behind him. He knelt before Childe, who was bloody, bruised, and so beautifully human.
“You’re weak, Tartaglia,” Scaramouche said, his voice distorted and amplified. “All that power, harnessing the gifts of the Abyss. You could have been so much more, but you’re still just one of them—human trash. Disgusting.”
He spat on him before raising his hands to deal the final blow.
“SCARAMOUCHE!” Lumine screamed from the top of her lungs. “FACE ME, COWARD!”
Scaramouche turned, seething. His face softened when he saw her. “Oh, it’s just you. Another weakling.”
Lumine felt heat coursing through her body, the rage within her fueling the flame. First, Teppei. Now, Childe too. And many more casualties, if she didn’t stop him. Panic had turned into fear, which turned into fury. It was all too much. So much that she couldn’t think anymore. There was only one thing on her mind.
“Yes, Scaramouche, it’s me. I’ve come here to kill you.”
He laughed. “Ridiculous. You’re no match for me.”
Lumine sneered. “You wanna test out that theory?”
It could be the adrenaline, but Lumine was feeling bold. She had survived two encounters with the Raiden Shogun herself, after all. What’s another one to add to her belt? And this time, she didn’t feel like being merciful.
Scaramouche flourished his Electro spear, crackling with lightning energy. It looked like a pure manifestation of a thunderbolt, with little tendrils of lightning flashing around it. It was a little terrifying, Lumine would admit, but this wasn’t the time to waver.
“Come at me, little boy,” Lumine taunted.
The remark must have touched a nerve, because he threw the thunderbolt spear right at her without hesitation. As the spear closed in on her, it was bigger than she thought. Lumine rolled out just in time, but her arm had been singed. He summoned it back to his hand, and Lumine dodged, this time wide enough to not sear her.
Her heart hammered in her chest, threatening to burst out. The adrenaline could only do so much to stop her from panicking and finally realizing the gravity of the situation. The last two encounters with the Raiden Shogun had only ended with the help of Yae Miko and Ei, both of which weren’t around right now.
Lumine whispered a brief prayer to the Electro Archon. Give me strength, Ei.
No answer. Not even a tiny lightning strike from above to help her out.
She continued doing what she did best: insulting Scaramouche. It was what worked so far. Kind of.
“Your hat looks fucking stupid!” she yelled.
A barrage of thunderbolts rained down on her. Lumine aimed her fist above her head, Anemo powers bursting forth, forming a makeshift spherical shield to protect herself from the rain of thunder.
Scaramouche hovered above her, cackling. “No amount of petty insults will stop me. I have the Gnosis now.”
That’s right, the Gnosis! If Lumine could somehow take it from him, this could be over.
He flung the lightning bolt at her again, and this time Lumine anticipated it and gave it a wide berth. She had expected him summoning it back, too, and as it flew by her she grabbed it, flying along towards Scaramouche. The Electro energy was too much—it started seeping through her arm, infusing it with Electro. Lumine could feel the power surging through her. It wasn’t like her resonating with a Statue of the Seven and gaining elemental powers. No, this was new—a raw, unadulterated power—but familiar, like something deep had been slumbering in her and finally awoke.
As she hurtled back towards Scaramouche, she used her weight to aim it right at his chest—where the Gnosis was inlaid—instead of his hand. Scaramouche realized what she was doing all too late. The bolt pierced his chest and dissolved into thin air as he fell to the ground. From where the thunderbolt hit him there was a cavity, and Lumine reached down to take the Gnosis.
Her arm, still crackling with lightning, flashed as she touched the Gnosis. Lumine buckled to her knees, the power inundating her. It rippled through her in waves, each one stronger than the last. Her mind filled with blurry but familiar visions—Makoto in the Archon War, Ei in a 500-year duel, and Scaramouche taking down Childe. She didn’t see them clearly, but she knew. She knew what they all were through the deluge of heightened emotions coursing through her. Rage, grief, fear, guilt. The last one she knew all too well. Tears welled up in Lumine’s eyes. It was all so overwhelming. She didn’t know what to think, to feel. The Gnosis did all that for her.
Lumine could hear them all screaming at her. Makoto, Ei, Scaramouche. It was all fuzzy, and yet, so so loud. Ordering her to kill, to fight, to never give up until the enemy is destroyed. She gripped the Gnosis tighter, desperate to keep it together and focus. Focus on one thing, one thought, one emotion. Her mind struggled, but her will was strong, just strong enough to hone in on the one thing she needed.
Rage.
Good. Use it, the Gnosis whispered, this time in Signora’s voice, seductive and mellifluous.
Rage. Rage at Scaramouche for killing her friends. Rage at him for manipulating the rebel army and Ei. Rage at him for hurting Childe.
Childe, lifeless on the ground. Because of her. It was all her fault. Her fault that he’s injured, bones broken like a fragile puppet. Her fault that he’s dying, or worse, already dead. Her fault.
Your fault.
And with that last thought, something in her mind snapped. Her rage bubbled into a blank and blinding fury, engulfing her whole. She screamed and brought down her fist, now steeped in Electro like a lightning gauntlet, to punch Scaramouche right in the face. A flash of shock mixed with satisfaction rushed through her.
Again, Lumine.
And she obeyed. Again and again she hit Scaramouche with her lightning fist, letting the rage flow through her. It felt right. It felt good, even, to finally give him what he deserved. No, this was only a fraction of what he deserved. He deserved a thousandfold of the pain Lumine was giving him.
Your fault. Your fault that he’s dead. Your fault that they’re all dead. Because of you. You. So much blood on your hands. You deserve this. You deserve all this pain and hurt and suffering.
Lumine screamed again, a primal, haunting scream, and let it consume her. There was nothing else. Just her, Scaramouche, and her unwavering fury.
That is, until she heard a distant voice. A voice calling for her. Her name. It seemed so familiar, so close, yet so muffled. Lumine tried to remember whose voice it was, but the fury clouded her memories.
No, Lumine. Listen to me. Listen to my power. Embrace it.
“Lumine!”
Who was that? Whose voice was that? Lumine recognized it somehow, but she couldn’t remember. Did she want to remember? Everything else was faint in her ears. She could only hear the Gnosis talking to her.
Listen to your heart, Lumine. Embrace who you are. Deep down, you know what you really are. A monster. A harbinger of death. I died because of you, Teppei died because of you, and many more will die because of you—
“LUMINE!”
This time it was loud, louder than the others, and it jarred her back to reality. Lumine flung the Gnosis from her hand, rolling away to gods-know-where. Below her, she saw Scaramouche laying before her, seemingly lifeless, his face swollen, bruised and bloody. A few of the wounds scorched with lightning heat. She looked down at her own hands, knuckles bloody and burnt.
It was quiet. The rage faded away and was replaced with something else. Panic. Or was it fear? Guilt? Lumine slowly rose and backed away from his lifeless body, in shock at what she had done. Her breathing quickened in pace with her heartbeat. Gasping for air as if she was drowning.
No. Not again, she thought.
With a flash, a blast of thunder came down on Scaramouche, throwing Lumine on her back. Pain swelled in every part of her body.
“You were so close, Lumine.”
Scaramouche stood and approached her, limping, his face still a mess and contorted in fury. “You had me. You were so close to killing me, but you just had to be like them.” He enunciated the last word with a spit. “Weak, pathetic human. What a disappointment you are.”
Lumine tried to move. She wanted to, but the Gnosis had drained her of her energy. That thing—that cursed thing—brought them to their end so swiftly and without a thought. How sad. Disappointing.
Scaramouche raised his arms above her, summoning Electro energy in the air to solidify into a thunderbolt.
Aether. I’m sorry. It’s all my fault.
With a wide grin, Scaramouche struck her down with his thunderbolt.
NOTES
I had fun writing this! Scaramouche is still very much a catalyst user here, except he's like Childe, conjuring an elemental manifestation of his weapon. Kinda like Zeus' thunderbolt thingy.
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