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Summary
The strikes become more and more relentless with each word uttered. Diluc’s eyes glowed in lividity.
“Not all Fatui are bad, you know.” Tartaglia counters a stream of flashes coming his way with his own manifestation of liquid. The subsequent steam surrounds the two of them, and Diluc pauses his attacks briefly. The two opponents circle each other carefully in the fog.
“Anyone willing to join an organization like yours…there can only be wickedness your hearts.” Diluc utters.
“Are you saying there isn’t any in yours?”

