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Bright sunlight illuminated the white marble of the columns in the Tsaritsa’s Palace. The sun was high in the sky and the members of the fatui were walking around, completing business as usual. On one of the highest floors of the glittering white palace, behind a series of heavy marble doors, sat Snezhnaya’s esteemed banker. As usual, he sat at his desk surrounded by a mountain of paperwork and requests for funding.
Pantalone let out a deep sigh; sometimes, he hated being the head banker of the Fatui. Usually, he didn't mind the quiet balancing of checkbooks and sending large mora orders between organizations while his assistants decided which requests were even worth his time. Pantalone enjoyed the relative quiet in his office, usually funding a sense of comfort in large numbers of mora reports, silently able to read about Fatui finances. Most days, the man had no issues with performing his job and ensuring everything moved along smoothly.
Today was one of those days that he would qualify as 'problematic’. Pantalone could hardly concentrate over a raging headache and rumbling stomach, having read the same section of text a half dozen times without comprehending any of it. Pantalone’s assistants had been bringing him reports dutifully without a word, however, the papers were now piling up around him as he could not get any work done.
With a sigh, the man leaned back in his chair and removed his glasses. Pantalone rubbed his eyes and pondered when was the last time he got some proper rest.
He supposed it was two days ago now; Pantalone had been working on emergency mora orders for the Annual Snezhnayan Festival for most of the first day before being whisked off on a last-minute expedition with Arlecchino. Pantalone didn't sleep during the journey, as they were performing reconnaissance in an unfamiliar area and ambushing enemies to the Tsaritsa. He had gotten back yesterday afternoon and attempted to get some rest after some travel reports were filed. Unfortunately, Capitano required his assistance a mere hour into his nap, and so he had spent a large chunk of time with the man down in the Tsaritsa’s dungeon. On occasion, he enjoyed inflicting torture onto those who betrayed the Tsaritsa himself, but he let Capitano do it all this time as he interrogated them and recorded their confessions. As the sun had risen by the time he got back to his office today, he decided to tackle the large paper pile rather than sleep right away. He knew that if he slept now, he'd probably have to pull another two days of nonstop work to catch up on all the festival orders.
With a groan, Pantalone put his glasses back on and looked back at the paper in front of him. He barely got past the first paragraph of the request before noticing some heavy, quick steps making their way towards his office. Since only a few people regularly came to his office, Pantalone recognized the heaviness of those footsteps immediately fighting back a groan of annoyance as the door to his office was swung open. The intruder walked in with confidence and a wide grin - like he hadn’t just interrupted Pantalone at work.
“Dottore…what brings you to my office? I informed you previously to leave any mora requests with my staff.” Pantalone hoped that the annoyance in his voice would get through to his fellow harbinger this time. Knowing Il Dottore, he would probably just brush it off and do as he willed. Especially as the version visiting him was Prime Dottore, the original man who created multiple clones of himself to keep records of his state of mind at various points in his life. Truly a madman with cruel intentions.
Pantalone suppressed a few coughs as the other began talking, “Ah, I would think that you'd be used to my company by now, dear Regrator. I have new projects for you and I think that they require some explanation to fully comprehend. Most humans cannot understand the complicated details of my thoughts. The first request is about the creatures called ‘Aranara’ in the folklore of Sumeru. Based on my copious research across the nation, these creatures have appeared throughout history-” Pantalone rested his head on his hand, blinking slowly as he slowly began to fade in and out of consciousness. Dottore’s voice suddenly stopped and his eyes stayed closed.
He heard a thud as his glasses fell from his face and his forehead came into contact with the hard table. Finally, darkness and silence overtook his exhausted mind.
~~~~~~~~~
Pantalone felt like he was floating through a sea of darkness. He hadn't experienced restful sleep in a long time and he let himself be carried by silence and darkness. He felt calm in the silence, rocked by invisible waves that soothed him.
Slowly, he began hearing noises, it sounded like knocking. Oh, was someone speaking to him?
“Gēge! You're home late today! Did you go to the harbor?” Who was talking to him? Pantalone looked around for the source of the voice. Was that green…? Green hair?
A shrill version of his own voice responded to the person, “Of course I did, Didi! There are no shops around this ghost town. Luckily, I had just enough to get us groceries and a book.”
The scenery became clearer and it looked…familiar, nostalgic even. The dark, worn wooden floors and walls, the disheveled drawers and cabinets, the old futons in the main room that comprised a tiny home. There were a few dishes on the main counter, the only usable eating vessels they had. The ice box was empty and open, an indication that the new groceries would be put in there. Dust covered the corners of the room and small archon shrine from lack of use. The low table beside the futons was covered with medicine, candles, papers, an ink well, a brush, everything a person needed when they were stuck in bed. The whole house smelled like paper and mildew.
Pantalone knew this place. This was his childhood home. Pantalone hadn't thought about the place since running away from Liyue as a teenager, vowing he would never return to the land that had forsaken him and his family. But he wasn't alone in here. Someone was talking to him, laying on the futon and looking out of the only window in the home. They had green hair and an identical face.
“What kind of book, Gege? Will you read it to me? Please, I love it when you read to me!”
“You know I will, Didi. Sit tight, I'm going to start preparing dinner first.”
Pantalone watched a young boy with black hair fill the ice box and focus his attention on the barely functioning stove. He had no doubt that it was a younger version of himself, complete with ragged clothes and smudged glasses, cooking whatever he could get his hands on to keep him and his brother alive.
Huh? Brother…?
The green-haired boy turned and looked directly at him, though it was clear that the current Pantalone wasn't supposed to be a part of this scene. This boy’s facial features were identical to his younger form, but softer, more sullen, like he had been ill. The other boy coughed, his rattling gasps for breath indicating that he had been ill for a long time.
“Baizhu! Take your medicine, it's almost time to eat.”
Baizhu…? By the Tsaritsa, how could he have forgotten?! His twin brother Baizhu, the more sickly and smarter of the two of them. When their parents passed, Pantalone and Baizhu left the Akademiya and Pantalone started working off jobs to feed himself and his younger brother, whose condition deteriorated..
Why had he forgotten his brother? He wrote him letters and sent mora at the beginning of his travels as a teenager…why did he forget about Baizhu? Could his loyalty to the Tsaritsa have forced him to forget? His mind had been strangely foggy for some years…was something in the palace affecting his memories?
“Alright, here's your food, let me read you the book. This one is called Rex Lapis and the Five Yakshas .” His younger self sat at the low table with his little brother, taking the book scroll into his hand and unraveling it. He began reading the record, but Pantalone was still reeling from the realization that he'd somehow forgotten about his brother. They'd been so happy together, just the two of them against the world…that was before Pantalone's hunger for money and anger at Morax for letting them live in poverty caused him to leave Liyue.
Sensations washed over his body, pulling his mind away from the scene before him. No, it was too soon - he wanted to see more! His memories were finally returning to him! The world around him rumbled and shook, and the scene before him dissipated as Pantalone's consciousness began returning.
~~~~~~~~~
Pantalone’s eyes fluttered, groaning as the too-bright light above him hurt his eyes. He brought his left hand to his eyes, rubbing the sleep out of them.
“Careful now, Regrator! I wouldn't move so much if I were you~ you'll pull out your delicate IVs!”
“Hehe, a little blood always makes my day!”
“That's the most obvious lie I've ever heard, number seven. We've completely secured all the tubes we put into him. He won't pull anything out by moving around.”
“Buzzkill! I wanted to use the bed restraints on him!”
“Number three, call Prime. Let him know his patient is awake.”
Pantalone slowly took in his surroundings. Judging from the copious medical evidence and scientific equipment around him, he was in Dottore’s wing, specifically the most superficial medical office. Thank goodness, as the deeper the medical rooms were, the more torturous and depraved they became; it seemed that he was in the room used for general first aid for the entire palace. There was soft beeping from beside him, probably from a machine that was monitoring his vital signs. Whatever he was laying on appeared more like a gurney and less like an operating table, with a pillow under his head and a light blanket keeping him warm on the stiff surface he was laying on. Like he heard, his Harbinger fur coat had been removed and his left sleeve was rolled up, exposing his inner elbow that was resting on top of another pillow; it had some superficial bruising and multiple IV tubes extending from it. The IVs were all firmly taped in place, so it was very unlikely they would slip out accidentally.
He heard at least four voices speaking around him with different pitches, but they all sounded like Dottore. He watched one of the younger clones leave the room with a clipboard in hand while one of Dottore’s most recent clones approached.
“We need to adjust your dose of painkillers, Regrator. I’m going to flush the IV first.” The clone pushed in a syringe of saline and cleaned out the IV tube, which had a little bit of Pantalone’s blood in it, earning a quiet whine from Pantalone from the strange sensation of liquid rushing straight into his vein. The clone then switched to a smaller syringe and injected a pale liquid into the IV. Very quickly, Pantalone’s body felt warm and fuzzy, almost like he was floating.
One of the earlier clones hopped by, laughing madly, “He's lovely when he doesn't argue with us~! If only Prime would keep him sedated like this.” The clone playfully ran a gloved hand over Pantalone's exposed elbow, pushing down on the IV line. Pantalone grunted, even the painkillers couldn't stop the sudden surge of pain.
“ Enough .” With a single word, all the clones turned their head to the door, the clone with their hand on Pantalone’s arm quickly pulled it away. Prime Dottore had returned to the lab, and all his clones stood at attention. “All of you, leave. I need to have a conversation with the Tsaritsa’s dear banker.” In a flash, the other clones moved out, either leaving the lab entirely or going to deeper rooms to work on experimentation. The two were alone as Prime Dottore approached Pantalone.
His face was twisted in a scowl as one of his leather-gloved hands came up to Pantalone’s face. “You look utterly pathetic, Regrator. Pushing yourself to the brink of breakdown? Not knowing your own limits? Pathetic.” Dottore's hand left Pantalone's face as he stepped away from the bed, but he did not leave the room. Instead, Pantalone heard some soft clanging noises, though he was too tired to follow them with his eyes.
After a short time, the Prime Dottore returned with a bowl in hand. “I assume I will need to feed you due to the sedatives.” He adjusted the bed’s incline so that Pantalone sat up. Dottore took a moment to gather some of the food on a spoon before gently pushing it into Pantalone's mouth.
The food tasted familiar. He could distinctly taste aromatic notes of several types of meat and slow cooked bamboo shoots. It had a tiny hint of seafood and spice, very unlike the mild cuisine of Snezhnaya. After a few spoons, he remembered the dish and where it was from. Bamboo shoot soup. His parents made it when he was young. He remembers his brother saying it was his favorite food. It was allegedly the favorite dish of the Geo Archon. He hadn't had this dish for at least a decade…but it still tasted wonderful, reminding him of the family he had lost.
Pantalone spoke out, woozy from the medicine, “How…? Why…?”
Prime Dottore put down the spoon, saying, “I need my banker to be in top condition to keep my projects funded. Consider this my way of ensuring you get back to health as fast as possible.” He checked Pantalone's vitals again. “You will finish this meal and go straight to bed. I want you to take the next 4 days off of work to sleep and recover. You are not allowed to do any work without clearance from me. Doctor’s orders. Don’t worry, I’ll have your assistants pick up the slack for you.”
A tiny smile formed on Pantalone's lips, one that he quickly suppressed to maintain his image. He let himself enjoy the rest of the dish, being spoon fed in comfortable silence. In the back of his mind, he wondered if he would be able to find a copy of Rex Lapis and the Five Yakshas in the Snezhnayan library to read while he rested for the following day. But for now…he closed his eyes and allowed Prime Dottore to continue feeding him.