Chapter Text
There was a little girl born in Snezhnaya, to a middle-class family.
She loved to tinker with machines all day long, constantly inventing machines.
Her talent caught the eye of the Fatui, and she was invited to join their ranks.
Happily, she became a Fatui engineer with extensive resources at her disposal.
She revived ruin machines, created lifelike puppets, and reinvented killing machines.
It wasn’t long before she was made a Harbinger, and they bestowed her a new name.
Sandrone.
And for tens of years she served faithfully as the Seventh Harbinger, churning out everything Her Majesty asked of her.
Life was perfect, and she couldn’t ask for anything more.
Then on a bright winter morning, walking out of Zapolyarny Palace, she saw him.
Golden eyes of Cor Lapis, and a calm unruffled demeanor.
“Excuse me,” he said politely, “You seem somewhat familiar. Have we met before?”
Sandrone drew in a sharp breath. Memories of that same deep voice flooded her mind. Days of sitting idly on Mount Hulao with the other Adepti, listening to the soft guqin, proudly creating ballistas to defend her people…
Guizhong. That was her name.
The Goddess of Dust.
And amidst all the echoes of the past, there was one figure who shone brighter than the rest.
Morax was what their people called him.
Zhongli was the name she gave him.
But those days were long behind her.
Guizhong created the most wondrous things, and was a gentle protector. But Sandrone was a ruthless killer, her fingers stained with the blood of countless innocents, some of them being her own people.
While Guizhong loved and was loved by the dragon-god in front of her, Sandrone was a weapon of the Tsaritsa, a servant of Snezhnaya.
“I don’t believe we’ve met,” she said in a soft voice. While she styled her hair similarly and her eyes were an identical grey, she looked different enough from her past life that no one would think of them as one and the same. “My name is Sandrone.”