Winter Solstice | Fatui One-Shots (Genshin Impact)

Intersection | Dottore

You were used to his harsh tone that point, having been subjected to years of verbal abuse; however, his next words surprised you. "With that being said, you might prove to be more useful than those bumbling simpletons who call themselves researchers."

After that, you began to work with Il Dottore more often, and all of those who fell under the moniker, the Doctor. You supposed he saw some worth in you because he wasn't as quick to deride your intelligence, nor did he threaten your life to the same extent as the others. He could under no circumstance be described as kind, but you learned to grow a certain appreciation for willingness to teach you.

Nevertheless, there were still the things you refused to participate in, but having worked so closely with the Doctor, you unfortunately could not escape the aftermath of his experiments. He was undoubtedly a brilliant individual, but you did not wish to comprehend his apathy for life.

 It was on such an occasion where Il Dottore was rebuking your refusal to do away with your ethical principles that he fell silent in the middle of his lecture. You promptly looked up, having expected to listen with deaf ears for another ten minutes, but what you found instead was a man deep in thought, his knuckle pressed to his chin.

You hesitantly asked, "What is it?"

He didn't answer you right away, but you soon found yourself in even greater perplexity when he grabbed your arm demanding, "come with me", and you found yourself seated in a chair in his lab.

"Have I become one of your experiments, Doctor?" you asked, though your stomach furled at the thought.

He answered, "Not in the way you're thinking."

That did bring some relief, though you couldn't say for certain how well he understood your line of thinking. Perhaps he meant he would not do the worst, or he might simply aim to ask a few questions. It was the uncertainty of the situation that brought out your anxiety.

He measured your temperature and blood pressure, then he pricked your finger and read out your hemoglobin level. Finally, he grabbed a stethoscope in order to listen to your heartbeat. Naturally, you were unsettled with the situation, so it was of no surprise when Dottore said, "Your heartrate seems to be accelerated."

"Care to tell me why, Doctor?" You rolled your eyes.

"You know very well that is not one of my concentrations of study."

"Then why did you bother to take my vitals?"

"Because I was hit with the realization that if you were to die, I would be very perturbed, indeed," he admitted.

You paused at his words, his straightforward tone of voice unyielding in even the most vulnerable situations. You asked, "How is it that you've come to care for me, Doctor?"

"Are you asking because you truly do not know the answer?" He was writing something on his sheet, still occupied with whatever he intended to do.

"I find the answer often differs from one version of you to the next," you said. "I am asking the one who stands before me, for he is who I most often encounter."

"Then why don't you start an investigation into the matter."

"That seems like an awfully convoluted process when I could ascertain a more accurate answer by simply hearing it from you." Then, you added, "That is, if you were to be honest with me."

He finally looked up from that sheet he was writing on and directed his full attention to you. "And would you be able to determine if I was lying or otherwise being at least partly untruthful?"

"I would choose to trust what you say," you confessed.

He parted his lips as if to comment, but then he suddenly smiled, and he reached his hand up to his mask, which he promptly unclipped. It was on no simple occasion that he would ever remove his mask, and there only one time before that you could have claimed to have seen his face.

He was undoubtedly handsome, from his sharp jawline to his biting eyes and his supercilious demeanor. This version of him was a cold and cunning man, and he would stop at nothing to achieve his desires—that fact was reminiscent through all of his clones, but this version was far more ruthless. You could see it in his ruby eyes, saturated with an a insouciance for human life that bordered on impressive.

However, as he gazed upon you with those same blood-stained eyes, there was another calculation computing through his brain, and it was something you couldn't quite decipher. Perhaps it was due to its unfamiliarity, or maybe Il Dottore was simply an enigma, but though you recognized his actions for what they were, they interpreted across your brain as foreign meteors across a sky of motionless stars.

"I am inclined to reprimand you for uttering something so foolish, but I must admit, I am not unintrigued by the idea of allowing you to continue to live on in ignorance," he finally said, bring his hand up to your cheek. 

"And though I am positive you will come to regret it, I look forward to the look on your face when you realize just how much freedom you've surrendered to me." He moved his hand down the side of your face under your face, stroking his thumb across your chin. He stared directly at you, unblinking and transfixed, as if hypnotized.

What Il Dottore failed to consider in that moment was not that you were unaware of his intentions, but that you had already resigned yourself to that fate, for that day the idea struck you that he could conceivably be so out of his mind as to clone himself in order to further his relentless pursuit of knowledge, you became fascinated with the idea of him, the Doctor.