The dumbass author studies his lousy scene transitions every day

The bone-deep chill in the side hall slowly dissipated with Dottore's departure, but the lingering gloom and oppressive air refused to fade.

Arlecchino stood quietly in place, her fingertips relaxing slightly, the icy sharpness of their confrontation still lingering in her eyes. The tense clash with The Doctor had not disrupted her rhythm. Long accustomed to maneuvering and conflicts of interest, she soon reined in all her emotions. The games between Harbingers would never cease. She had no time to spare wallowing in emotion; only by securing every step could she protect the countless lonely, suffering children behind her.

She turned and returned to the study, where warm lamps burned constantly. The sharpness of their confrontation faded, settling into the composure and cool reserve of someone in a high position. A thick stack of intelligence sent back from across Snezhnaya lay on her desk, covering developments in the Seven Nations and unusual movements among their factions. These were essential matters she had to handle every day.

A maid stepped lightly into the room, bowed, and placed a newly sealed intelligence report at the front of the desk, reporting softly, "'Father,' the latest intelligence from Sumeru."

Arlecchino nodded to dismiss her, broke the wax seal with her slender fingertips, and calmly scanned the words on the page.

Terms such as the Sumeru Akademiya, modifications to the Akasha, and the construction of a new Wisdom Network all concerned significant developments in Sumeru's academic world and shifts among its factions, enough to affect the balance of power throughout Sumeru.

It could be considered a very important report on Sumeru's factions and situation.

Until that name caught her eyes without warning.

-Xingsu.

In that instant, all the composure, calculation, and decisiveness of the Harbinger known as The Knave shattered.

In her mind, the lofty mask of a Harbinger fell away with a crash. What remained was Peruere, still bearing her old name, covered in wounds and trapped in the slaughtering hell of the House of the Hearth.

No...

That's not right...

Impossible...

I clearly closed those eyes of his that had remained open in death.

I clearly burned his remains to ashes with my own hands.

I clearly held his funeral myself.

What if it was just a coincidence?

What if it was just someone with the same name?

What if it was just, just...

Arlecchino read the report again from beginning to end, word by word, sentence by sentence.

An absurdly powerful ability to learn...

Like him.

Daring to take the lead in challenging the Akademiya's authority...

Like him.

Brave, pure, stubborn, with righteousness in his heart...

Like him.

Just as he was back then.

Arlecchino's fingertips trembled slightly as she gently pressed down on the name on the page, countless feelings mingling deep in her crimson eyes.

There was realization.

There was a bitter ache.

There was the daze of a reunion after a long separation.

And a trace of guilt that even she had not noticed.

For a long while, the only sound in the study was the gentle flicker of candlelight.

Orange-red flames swiftly climbed over the pages, consuming every investigative record about Xingsu. The Wisdom Network plans, the Akademiya's arrangements, his personal information-all turned to ashes, drifting lightly into the accumulated ash in the fireplace.

This intelligence must never reach Snezhnaya.

Arlecchino had, of course, recognized the strategic value of the Wisdom Network at a glance, but even the most foolish Harbinger would recognize it too.

Hiss, Tartaglia should be able to see it... right?

If The Rooster learned about the Wisdom Network, would he spare no effort investigating Xingsu's research, or even come directly to poach this talent?

If The Doctor found out, would he also take an interest in this research?

And people who caught Dottore's interest generally did not meet a good end...

In short, the Harbingers must never learn of this intelligence.

"..."

Heh, how did I forget just now? I'm a Harbinger too...

Arlecchino gently propped her chin in both hands. Her normally sharp crimson eyes lost focus, resting blankly on the smooth, black surface of the solid wood desk.

Why...

"Why?"

Xingsu scratched at his hair in frustration. Over a dozen failed experiments across several consecutive days had caused some subtle changes in his state of mind.

Since the Akademiya's higher-ups were vehemently opposed to his modifying the terminals, he would cobble together a whole new system from scratch himself.

But no matter how brilliant the mind or how ingenious the theory, all sorts of problems arose once it reached the stage of practical experimentation.

For instance, Xingsu had initially planned to use Ley Lines as channels to transmit information, but experiments revealed that Irminsul was like a magnet: only information transmitted toward Irminsul could be received normally.

Later, Xingsu tried transmitting through wireless signals, but he had too few Akasha radio-frequency chips purchased from Dori (crossed out) picked up from the ground, and their communications coverage was too small.

Xingsu later tried increasing the power, and then... the chips burned out.

For several days straight, he spent his days studying and completing his work. To keep his experiments from being discovered, Xingsu had to go to a less-traveled spot near Gandharva Ville after work to conduct field trials.

The constant trips back and forth and research that made him forget food and sleep left Xingsu visibly thinner.

Another day without any progress.

The setting sun dyed the dirt road outside Gandharva Ville a deep orange-red. Xingsu walked slowly, the visible exhaustion throughout his body never fading.

At this hour... I've missed the staff meal at the Akademiya cafeteria again.

Ugh, if I wait in Sumeru City until mealtime, I won't have time for experiments. If I go do experiments, I miss the staff meal.

Experiments or food, that is the question.

If I'd known, I wouldn't have spent all that Mora on shawarma so early. Looks like I'll be going hungry again tonight.

As he reached a bend obscured by bushes, five or six mercenaries dressed as Eremites suddenly leaped out, their scimitars half drawn at their waists, blocking the only way forward.

The man leading them folded his arms and sized Xingsu up with a belligerent look.

"Hey, you! You still haven't paid back the money you owe our boss. Don't think you can skip out on your debt and run away. Hand over the Mora, and we'll let you leave."

Xingsu furrowed his brows slightly. "Sorry, I don't remember owing anyone any Mora."

Seeing that Xingsu had no intention of paying, the lead mercenary exchanged a look with the others. "Take him alive!" With that, they charged straight at him from all sides.

Before Xingsu could think of a countermeasure, his body reacted immediately, as though on instinct.

He sidestepped a punch, deftly deflected his opponent's force with his wrist, and twisted along with the momentum of the man's charge, sending the lead mercenary crashing onto the dirt road. Xingsu's movements were clean and efficient. Within moments, the previously menacing squad of mercenaries lay sprawled all over the ground.

One mercenary, however, saw that things were going badly and hastily fled the scene, disappearing without a trace.

Xingsu relaxed his stance. His fingers, hanging at his side, paused slightly, and he lowered his head to look at his palms in bewilderment.

He had clearly never learned any combat techniques, yet every movement throughout that fight had flowed effortlessly, as though it were muscle memory.

Xingsu rubbed his rumbling, empty stomach, suppressed a trace of inexplicable confusion, and looked at the mercenary leader lying on the ground. "Who's your boss?"