(Chapter 52 Fontaine Research Institute)
"Good luck, Tempest."
Gardon bid farewell to Tempest with a warm embrace, hugging him tightly and giving his back a reassuring pat before stepping back.
"Penance, make sure you always listen to your brother, alright?"
Gardon said, gently patting her head as he spoke.
"Got it, Uncle."
Penance replied, wrapping her arms around Gardon in a warm hug. Gardon smiled and hugged her back, holding her close for a moment longer.
"Thank you for everything, Uncle."
Tempest said sincerely. Gardon gave a nod of acknowledgment before gently releasing Penance from their embrace. He stepped back, giving them one final look filled with pride and affection as they prepared to set sail.
"I expect to hear good news once you both return."
Gardon said with a warm smile. He curled his hand into a fist and placed it over his chest, giving them a respectful salute. His eyes reflected both hope and pride as he bid them farewell.
Tempest and Penance nodded in response, turning to board the Dreadnought. Just as they were about to step onto the ship, a faint ding echoed from the elevator in the distance. The doors slid open, revealing a figure Tempest recognized immediately.
"Lady Furina?"
Tempest muttered to himself, his eyes narrowing as he recognized her. He quickly made his way over to greet her. As he approached, he noticed the unmistakable look of displeasure on her face. Meanwhile, Penance and Gardon, sensing the tension, chose to stay back, observing from a respectful distance, not wanting to intrude.
"My Lady? What brings you all the way over here?"
Tempest asked Furina.
"Hmph, I simply want to watch you sail away from a distance, but don't come crying to me if the seas suddenly decide to sink your ship in a storm, got it?"
Furina spoke with a hint of annoyance, her words tinged with a hint of lightheartedness as she pretended to threaten Tempest.
Tempest's expression shifted to one of surprise at Furina's words. He had always believed that Focalors, the Hydro Archon, possessed the power to command the seas and could easily sink his ship with just a mere thought if she so desired.
"I was joking, Tempest."
Furina said, turning her head away, clearly upset despite her attempt to hide it from Tempest.
"My Lady? Did I do something wrong?"
Tempest asked her, concern evident in his voice, as he tried to understand what he might have done to upset Furina.
"No, no, nothing at all, Tempest. You did absolutely nothing wrong at all. You're perfectly fine. Don't worry about it."
Furina spoke with a hint of nonchalance in her tone, her words tinged with a subtle undercurrent of sarcasm as she pretended to reassure Tempest.
"My Lady, clearly you're speaking in a sarcastic tone, I'm not leaving until you tell me, please, tell me what's troubling you."
Tempest's voice was tinged with desperation as he tried to get to the bottom of the issue.
Furina sighed before she spoke.
"I'm not upset with you, Tempest, believe me. Part of the reason I'm here is to bid you a proper send-off. But in the coming days, or perhaps even tomorrow, you might understand the problem I'm talking about."
Furina's sarcastic demeanor faded, and her upset expression softened into a genuine smile.
"I see, no matter what problem it is, My Lady, I will deal with it. I assure you."
Tempest knelt gracefully, gently taking Furina's hand in his. With a soft, respectful kiss to her fingers, he bid her farewell, his expression a mix of sincerity and regret.
"Hmph, Au Revoir, Tempest."
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"Messenger hawk, inbound, Your Grace!"
Announced a knight from the Golden Hand, peering through his spyglass. He pointed toward the sky where the hawk was approaching the Dreadnought.
Tempest extended his arm, and the messenger hawk gracefully landed on it. With its talon, it clutched a letter tightly, which Tempest carefully took from the bird.
Tempest's opened the letter, while the messenger hawk, moved to his shoulder.
"The Fatui have arrived, Your Grace. They've brought an entire contingent of Fatui agents, and they're being led by a diplomat named Yegor Mikhailov. He's currently in discussions with Director Denis Papin of the Fontaine Research Institute."
The letter stated that was written by Falric.
"Hm."
Tempest muttered to himself, his expression darkening as he activated his Pyro Delusion. With a flick of his hand, he ignited the letter, watching it burn until all that remained was a handful of ash and smoldering dust.
"Is something wrong, Your Grace?"
Rohan said as he approached Tempest.
"Yes, the Fatui have arrived, how long until we arrive?"
"Twenty-minutes, Your Grace."
Rohan replied.
"Mhm, tell the captain of the ship, to speed up."
Tempest instructed, his tone urgent. Rohan nodded in understanding and swiftly made his way to the bridge to relay the message to the captain.
After what felt like hours, the Dreadnought finally arrived at the docks of the Fontaine Research Institute. Tempest stood at the bow of the ship, resting his hands on the metal railings as he gazed out at the Institute.
"Let's go, brother."
Tempest heard his sister's voice behind him and turned around to see her standing with Rohan and a contingent of knights from the Golden Hand.
"Let's get moving."
Tempest spoke, and everyone nodded in agreement. They disembarked the ship, making their way to the pier where Falric awaited them. His left arm had been replaced with a mechanical prosthetic, and his right eye was concealed behind an eyepatch, giving him a more formidable appearance.
"Your Grace, it's good to see you again."
Falric said, bowing his head shortly.
"As do we, captain. It seems like the replacement was a success."
Tempest said, glancing at Falric's mechanical left arm.
"Yes, an eccentric young lady named Hatsume applied it, Your Grace. Though I still prefer my original arm, this one gets the job done and provides me with enhanced strength, and I'm still able to use my Geo Vision normally."
Falric said, raising his mechanical arm with a hint of pride.
Tempest nodded, relieved to see that Falric's injuries had not burdened him in the slightest. It was clear that despite the loss of his arm and the eyepatch covering his eye, Falric had adapted well and remained as capable as ever.
"Let's get moving then, Your Grace, I'll lead you inside."
Falric spoke, and Tempest nodded in understanding. He and his group then followed Falric as he led them toward the Institute.
Tempest couldn't help but notice the numerous Clockwork Mekas around the Institute, diligently performing laborious tasks and standing guard.
"Do the people even work and live here? It feels like the Mekas own this place."
Penance said who was walking alongside Tempest.
"They do mostly the hard labor here, Penance, while the researchers do the thinking, and inventing."
Tempest replied to his sister.
"How long are we staying here?"
"A day or two, or perhaps even longer, I'll be speaking with the Director to see if they can provide us with anything that might assist us in the desert."
Tempest replied to Penance.
"Woah! Look a that brother!"
Penance pointed towards a testing ground where two Mekas were performing an elegant dance, gliding smoothly across the polished surface. The sight was mesmerizing, with their synchronized movements creating a stunning display of grace and precision.
The entire group came to a halt, captivated by the mesmerizing performance of the Mekas.
"Your Grace!"
"Hm?"
Tempest glanced to his side and noticed an elderly man approaching, accompanied by what appeared to be his assistant. The elderly man was dressed in formal attire that suggested his significant role within the Institute.
"It's a great honor to have you visit the Fontaine Research Institute."
The elderly man said with a voice that carried the weight of many years of experience.
"I am Senior Technician Bossuet, and this is my assistant, Maillardet. I'm pleased to see that my greatest invention has captured your interest."
Bossuet's gaze then shifted back to the dancing Mekas, a proud smile touching his lips.
"It's an honor to be here as well, sir, what do you call this great invention?"
Tempest asked Bossuet.
"That's the Icewind Suite, the very pinnacle of Fontaine's artistry and the beauty it embodies."
Bossuet said, his voice rich with pride and a twinkle in his eye.
"Next month, I'll be stationing them in Erinnyes, near the Opera Epiclese, where their mesmerizing dance will continue to enchant and captivate the citizens for years to come."
His smile widened as he spoke, his gaze lingering on the graceful movements of the Mekas.
"Hmph, they seem more suited for combat, don't you think, Your Grace?"
Maillardet interjected, his tone carrying a hint of skepticism.
"While they do display a certain grace, their true potential might be realized in more practical, tactical applications rather than mere entertainment."
His gaze shifted from the Mekas to Tempest, a thoughtful frown on his face.
"I respectfully disagree."
Tempest replied, his tone firm yet respectful.
"These types of inventions are what make Fontaine truly unique compared to other nations. It's not just about functionality, it's also about celebrating our creativity and artistry. The beauty and innovation of such creations set us apart and contribute to our nation's identity."
He then turned his attention back to Bossuet, his expression unreadable and emotionless.
"Sir Bossuet, you have truly captured that essence and created something truly astonishing, I eagerly anticipate seeing it showcased near the Opera Epiclese. I'm confident that even Lady Furina will be captivated by such an impressive display. Your work embodies the unique spirit and creativity of Fontaine, and it's bound to leave a lasting impression on all who witness it."
Tempest said, his admiration evident.
"Really? Thank you for your kind words, Your Grace. To hear such praise from you is something I will cherish to the grave. Did you hear that, Maillardet? The Duke himself has spoken, and he even wagers that Lady Furina will be captivated by our work. This endorsement means more than I can express."
Bossuet said, his voice filled with genuine gratitude, and Maillardet sighed in disappointment.
*Flash!*
"Hm? Penance? I didn't knew you bring a kamera."
Tempest turned to Penance, who was taking pictures of the Icewind Suite.
"Uncle bought it for me, and told me to take some pictures to show Mother, once we return."
Penance responded with a smile as she continued snapping pictures of the Icewind Suite. Tempest, pleased with her enthusiasm, turned back to Bossuet and extended his hand for a handshake.
"It's been a pleasure discussing your remarkable work, Sir Bossuet. I look forward to seeing the Icewind Suite's future performances."
Bossuet smiled and shook Tempest's hand.
"The pleasures all mine, Your Grace."
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Shortly thereafter, Tempest and his group made their way toward the gathering hall. As they walked, the bustling activity of the Fontaine Research Institute seemed to pulse around them, with technicians and researchers scurrying about, each absorbed in their own tasks.
"This is preposterous, Director! These papers here, clearly state that the Ghost Program belongs to us!"
"I told you, Yegor, that document was signed by the previous Duke. If you want access to the Ghost Program, you'll have to negotiate with Tempest Proudmoore himself."
Director Denis Papin said with a firm tone.
In the gathering hall were Yegor Mikhailov and his Fatui agents, engaged in an attempt to acquire the Ghost Program from the Fontaine Research Institute. However, with Mengsk Proudmoore deceased, all his belongings, including the rights to the Ghost Program, now belong to Tempest Proudmoore by right of succession. If Yegor wishes to obtain the Ghost Program, he will need Tempest to sign the necessary papers.
"Speaking of Tempest Proudmoore, here he is."
Denis said, turning his head toward the entrance as Tempest and his group walked into the gathering hall.
"I decline, the Ghost Program, rightfully belongs to Fontaine."