Chapter Text
The grand oak doors of the mansion swung open, revealing a cavernous entrance hall that seemed to swallow sound itself. Zhongli, his posture impeccably straight and his dark brown suit perfectly tailored, stood before the assembled group. His amber gaze swept over the most eclectic gathering ever assembled under one roof.
“Welcome,” his voice, deep and resonant, filled the space without needing to rise in volume. “To your new residence. I have been entrusted with the role of facilitating this… unique coalition. You may refer to our unit as ‘The Fandoms Squad’.”
A snort came from the back. Dante, leaning against a marble pillar with his signature red coat draped over his shoulders, smirked. “Fandoms Squad? Sounds like a particularly nerdy convention.”
“Quiet, you,” Chun-Li said, though her tone was more amused than chastising.
“The parameters are simple,” Zhongli continued, ignoring the interruption with the patience of a millennia-old archon. “This mansion is equipped to handle all your needs. However, to encourage… cohesion… you will be pairing up. The rooms are designed for two occupants.”
A murmur ran through the crowd. Marinette wrung her hands nervously, while Ayano Aishi stood perfectly still, her expression unreadable. Kyo Kusanagi cracked his knuckles, looking like he’d rather fight for a room than share one.
“To ensure absolute fairness and eliminate any potential bias,” Zhongli announced, producing a small, lacquered box, “we will determine pairings by lot. Each of you will draw one colored card. Those who draw matching colors will be roommates.”
Pinkie Pie, her bubblegum-pink hair seeming to defy gravity with its bounce, was the first to zoom forward. “Ooh! Me first! I hope I get sparkly glitter-puce!”
One by one, they approached. Some, like the ever-professional Fu Hua, drew with calm purpose. Others, like the hulking, anxious König, hesitated before snatching a card as if it were a live grenade.
Soon, everyone held a small rectangle of colored cardstock.
“Now,” Zhongli instructed. “Please find your match.”
The hall erupted into controlled chaos.
“Yellow! Who has yellow?” Sunflower called out, her voice bright and sunny, her green sundress a contrast to the card she held.
“Over here,” a monotone voice replied. Dan Heng lifted his card, his expression as inscrutable as ever.
“Maroon,” Parasoul stated, holding her card aloft. She was met with a grunt from Seth Lowell, who merely flashed his matching maroon card before going back to observing the room’s architecture.
A shriek of delight pierced the air. “PINK! IT’S PINK!” Pinkie Pie yelled, launching herself at a blushing, wide-eyed Marinette, who was indeed holding a pink card. “We’re gonna have so much fun! We can have pillow fights and design outfits and bake cupcakes at 2 AM!”
“I—uh—okay!” Marinette stammered, caught in the whirlwind that was Pinkie Pie.
“Red,” a gruff voice stated. The man known simply as Red held up his card. A moment later, Ahri, her nine tails absent in this form but her captivating presence very much intact, smiled and sauntered over. “Looks like we’re partners, tough guy.” Red merely grunted in acknowledgment.
A particularly interesting match was made when Dante, holding a deep purple card, found his partner: Marie Rose, who giggled and presented her own purple card. “Try anything funny, and I’ll break your arm,” she said sweetly. Dante’s smirk only widened. “Promises, promises, shortstuff.”
Vox Akuma, holding a sleek black card, found his match in Midas, whose golden touch seemed to have tinted the edges of his own black card. “A pleasure,” Vox said, his voice a smooth, practiced baritone. “I have a feeling our room will be the most… profitable.” Midas merely nodded, a calculating glint in his eye.
The pairs continued to form: Fu Hua and Chun-Li (serene blue), Testament and Ayano (a silent, unsettling moss green), Edgar and Dyrroth (a brooding dark grey), Lucifer and, to his immense amusement, Authority!Seth Rollins (a pompous gold). “Darling, the theatrics we can devise,” Lucifer purred. Seth Rollins merely adjusted his designer sunglasses indoors. “I like the way you think, Fallen Angel.”
Mai Shiranui, holding a vibrant orange card, finally found her match not in another fighter, but in the massive, nervous Austrian, König, who was trying to hide behind a potted plant. He reluctantly showed his orange card. “Do not… crowd me,” he muttered. Mai just smiled, a little confused but gracious. “Of course. Plenty of space.”
Finally, only two were left. Zhongli looked down at the card in his hand: a simple, earthy brown. The only one without a pair was the knight from the Cookie Run kingdom, Dark Choco Cookie, who stood rigidly, holding an identical brown card.
“It seems we are to be companions,” Zhongli said, offering a small, rare smile. Dark Choco nodded once, a solemn expression on his face. “I will not disturb your peace, sir.”
“I anticipate no disturbances,” Zhongli replied. “Shall we? I believe I saw a library that requires investigation.”
As the pairs dispersed to find their new rooms, the mansion, once silent and imposing, began to thrum with a strange, new life. The Chromatic Cohabitation Clause was in effect. It was going to be anything but quiet.
From down the hall, a triumphant shout from Pinkie Pie echoed: “SLUMBER PARTY IN ME AND MARINETTE’S ROOM! EVERYONE’S INVITED! ESPECIALLY YOU, BROODY SWORD GUYS!”
Zhongli paused at the foot of the grand staircase and sighed, a sound that carried the weight of ages. It was going to be a very long, very interesting tenure as leader.