Chapter Text
Freminet was a bad child.
That was the only logical reason why he would be here.
He was bad.
Alone in a cold room, devoid of light other than candles, Freminet sat. His helmet and the majority of his diving suit was already confiscated from him. He could handle the loss of that, sure, but they took away his dearest companion as well: Pers. The little penguin was his only source of ground from the long trip he just had.
He remembers being picked up in a carriage in Fontaine, a letter being sent telling him where to go. He hopped on. The letter said he would go to Mondstadt, but he soon found himself back in the freezing cold he was oh-so familiar with. Snezhnaya, specifically the Zapolyarny Palace. More specifically, off to the side, down some stairs, and stuck in a little room.
He shivered under the icy temperature, his wetsuit only insulating a small amount of his body heat. The chair he sat on was cold and metal. Heck, the entire room was cold and metal. He wondered what he did, to deserve to go to this place. Two people spoke outside.
It took a few more minutes until someone stepped down those steep stairs. The door swung open, bringing snow and wind down the concrete steps as a man descended. His figure was obscured by the crisp whiteness of the surrounding outside, his silhouette tall and lanky.
He was wearing the coat of a Harbinger.
Freminet shivered once more.
“Cold, boy?” A voice spoke, hoarse and gravelly.
A thin laugh soon followed his speech as he sat down across from Freminet. His arms rested on the table, covered by white clothing with many leather straps.
He seemed so still. Freminet did not answer, in fear of breaking this stillness. He glanced downwards at his own hands.
He picked the skin off the sides of his nails, scratching and tearing any flesh that stuck out. The man across from him noticed, but did not speak on it.
The two sat in silence for a while, and Freminet felt utterly observed. Eyes piercing through him, that unforgettable feeling of being known. That strange bird-like mask hardly covered his staring. No clouds of breath came from his lips, but the boy seemed to have his own little cloud from his rapid breathing.
“You were previously in the care of the Knave, and were given to me after an.. ‘incident’ was noticed. Am I correct?”
Freminet did not answer. He had no knowledge of this deal, nor about what he did wrong. His lips quivered slightly as he glanced up at the Harbinger.
“What.. did I do wrong, sir?” He stumbled over his words, voice quiet and meek.
The man smiled, head tilting curiously.
“‘Plotting against a Harbinger’ was listed on why you were sent here. As well as this, you were said to repeatedly break rules, and disobey authority.”
Freminet’s eyes stared, widening at the words that were being spoken. He didn’t think he did anything bad, no- he didn’t. He was a good boy, and a greater tool. He did everything right, didn’t he? Why was he being sent here?
His mouth moved, but formed no words.
“Speak, boy.” The man hissed, tone dropping into something more threatening.
“.. Yes, sir.”
‘Yes, I did disobey my Father. Yes, I break rules. No, I am not good. Even though I didn’t do anything wrong.’
“I did those things.”
The man nodded. His head dipped slightly, his expression turning into that of a smile.
Freminet was not confused anymore.
He was scared.
The man rose to his feet, towering over the young boy. His uniform, now clearer in the light, showed that of a scientist. A coat, an undershirt, and many pockets. Leather adorned his figure, poking out awkwardly at the edges of his body. His entire form just seemed strange. There was an inhuman property about him- something that Freminet could not place a finger on. But something was wrong with him.
He did not offer a hand to the boy, but turned his head to peek over his shoulder. He promptly got up from the metal chair, the cold feeling still lingering on the backs of his legs. He pushed it underneath the table before moving towards the Harbinger.
The two walked in silence for a short while, as if in a limbo. A young boy, and a mysterious man. The man walked confidently, almost like a march. The tailcoat of his uniform swayed behind him as he moved, the clinking of glass being heard from somewhere on his person.
Freminet, however, was the complete opposite. He shuffled on his feet with an odd gait, hardly picking up his heels at all. He had a bad habit of staring at the floor instead of in front of him. He decided to focus on the man’s accessories, the little designs engraved on his coat. It was good practice, at least.
Opening another metal door, heavier this time- Freminet was plunged into yet another cold and dark environment. This one felt more damp, however. An uncomfortable moisture lingered in the air above the boy, making him cringe and repulse in silence.
Once his eyes adjusted, he saw rows upon rows of tables. Various hallways and rooms attached to one large ‘main’ spot. These metal tables, fit for a laboratory, were littered with all sorts of junk. Papers scattered haphazardly, vials of strange liquids being held up by leaning on other containers. Everything looked sterile, yet filthy. A sanitized mess.
His eyes flicked around, the tall figure moving behind him in silence. He spoke once more, and Freminet jumped at the sudden noise.
“You will be left to the authority of the Segments. These Segments are various clones of myself at different stages of life, truly the ingenuity of mankind.”
He bragged, that sharp grin spreading ever wider.
The boy hardly knew a thing he spoke about, but was more than capable at putting pieces together.
‘I am going to be left alone, with more than one person, who will most likely be similar to this stranger.’
Freminet peeked a glance at the man, clearing his throat a small amount before speaking quietly.
“.. May I know your name, sir?”
His eyes stared into the man’s covered ones, wide and cautious. It felt wrong to look at him so closely. His breath hung in the air for a moment, the thin clouds dissipating later than usual. The man turned his head to look down at him. He felt so small under his gaze.
“Il Dottore.”
Freminet stood in silence.
And froze.
‘The mad doctor.’
‘Sumeru’s heretic.’
‘The second of the Fatui Harbingers.’
‘The Doctor.’
Oh, God.
The young boy gulped, knees weakening as Il Dottore’s gaze fixated on him. His hands shook as he clenched his fists together, knuckles turning white under the pressure. Breath seeped out from his lungs, shaking into the frigid and stale air of the room they were in.
He smiled.
And walked away.
Freminet watched as the Doctor left the room, the metal door closing and locking shut behind him. He was here to stay, and he knew that by now. But his heart, deep in his chest, refused to believe that.
He would see his siblings soon enough. A temporary stay in his mind. Like a hotel. Yeah, like a hotel.
A cold, dark, and terrifying hotel.
His imagination could only go so far here. It hardly stretched enough. No matter what he tried, he couldn’t imagine this place as anything it wasn’t. It was a laboratory, intimidating and frightening. Like a young child’s nightmare of the dentist, he thought of this place like a mere nightmare. One day, he’ll wake up, and be fine.
He thought about Pers. He must be in Penguin Town by now, surely. Riding by the tides, being carried by the waves and sliding on his tummy through the icebergs. He’ll meet up with all of his other friends, and they’ll have a celebration to welcome him back. With a great feast of fish and clams, and a big strawberry cake to top it off. How nice it would be, to be there right now.
But there was a large object in the way of their celebration. A nasty giant, stomping all over the place. What would a story be without conflict, after all? He slammed his feet down, growling at all the little critters below. Pers rushed in to save his friends, with a great big clockwork sword in one wing, and a seashell shield in the other.
Except he didn’t have those weapons, nor did he move.
Pers was not in Penguin Town.
Freminet hardly moved from his feet. He also didn’t realize that someone else joined him in his standing.
His head tilted upwards, only to be met with a completely blank expression.
He jumped from the hit of reality, taking a rapid step away as he caught his breath. The figure didn’t react.
He stood with hands behind his back, perfect posture and emotionless appearance.
He looked like Il Dottore.
This was a Segment.
Before Freminet could speak, the Segment spoke first.
“I am Phi, a childcare specialist,” He began.
“I am assigned to your care. Freminet, is it?”
Although his voice attempted to sound calm, it sounded robotic more than anything. A thin smile grew across his features.
This Segment, Phi, looked older than the Doctor. Wrinkles that caved around his eyes and cheeks, a thin layer of stubble and long, dull blue hair that framed his face. He wore worn glasses that tilted down his nose, clouded over by dust. His uniform was a simple navy button-down shirt, slacks, and a large white lab coat with the title “Segment #21, Phi” engraved in a little gold rectangle.
Most startling of all, in the boy’s opinion, was the complete lack of emotion. At least the Doctor had a relatively genuine smile. This one just seemed fake, like plastic.
“Yes.” Freminet mumbled, glancing downward at the concrete flooring. Phi hummed.
“Good, good. I’m glad they brought in the right boy. Come now, be quick.”
Before the boy could question what the Segment said, Phi was already walking away. He stumbled after him, picking his feet off the ground like peeling off tape. He found that it was easier to walk on his toes here- it made less noise and was more comfortable. His pace quickened to catch up with the stranger. He was oddly fast, making quick turns and sharp steps.
Freminet placed his hand on the walls to steady himself as he nearly ran after him.
It took a long while, winding through hallways and doors and weaving through more tables. They were both in a long hallway now. It scared Freminet.
On one side were many steel doors, quite worn by touch from the look of them. The hinges were rusty. Each door was seperated a good amount from the next, by a few yards minimum. They each had a prison-like window that shut from the outside as well, being covered with locks and chains.
He thought it was similar to Meropide. Although, quite worse.
The other side had a long, long mirror. Though, it was odd. He could see behind it, vague silhouettes that shuffled about. It was obviously a two way mirror. They didn’t even try to hide it.
He glanced up at Phi, who was staring at Freminet the entire time. Though he still wore that polite smile, he felt extremely uneased by him. That same feeling of oddity, being picked out from a crowd. That feeling sank in his gut. And Phi noticed.
“You look rather ill. How about you go to a room and rest for the night? I’m sure the trip here was less than pleasant.”
He spoke with a proper tone, sure, but it still sounded commanding. And Freminet knew much better than to disobey.
He was a good boy, after all.
He walked to the room closest to the door, allowing Phi to undo the locks and allow him in. Before Freminet could process what the room looked like, the door was slammed shut behind him.
Loud grating metal, those rusty hinges screaming into his ears. He flinched and covered them, eyes widening in shock and pain. His heartbeat and breathing increased in speed.
He was trapped.
He was trapped.
Freminet approached the door, trying the door knob despite how dumb of an idea that was. It did not budge.
He knocked once.
And twice.
And thrice.
He began to pound on the metal door with his fists, his icy pupils threatening to spill with tears. He screamed at the steel, watching as the little window was flicked shut and locked immediately after.
His screaming did not cease.
And he yelled, and yelled, and yelled until his throat was raw.
Nobody responded to him.
He ended up turning around, chest heaving with panting breath. He took in the environment around him, eyes that flickered across everything as if scanning.
A small worn bed, a nightstand with dried blood on the corners, and a curtain that separated the room in half.
He walked to the curtain, a shaky hand pulling it away. The metal rings screeched across the rod, causing Freminet to flinch at the sound once more.
It was a surgical table in the center of the room. Nothing on it except parchment, which looked quite new. As if the rest of the room was ignored, and only this metal table was tended to. It freaked him out. He put the curtain back in place.
He soon trudged over to the bed, pressing a hand on it to feel the texture. It wasn’t upsetting, so he laid down on it. It sank beneath his frame, a loud creak coming from the springs in the mattress. He hardly had the energy to care. He was tired.
Freminet took a breath. Then another, and another. He thought long and hard about Penguin Town, and Pers, and his siblings.
The young boy drifted into a dreamless sleep, comforted by nothing other than himself.