The Fatui was the cause of not only his pain, but your pain too.

A virus had been unleashed, turning almost every test subject into mindless, brain-eating zombies.

It was incredibly hard to contain, and even so, no one had been cured from being infected. No one was going to. Unfortunately, that was the simple phrase that had millions end their lives in their own homes. Wasn’t that better than suffering the cost of living, at this rate?

Outside the Opera Epiclese, Fontaine when you just happened and managed to end up. After so much time, everything was bleak and the lines were blurring together. Diluc glanced into the fire he had set, whispering something as he turned to watch the building in front of him go up in flames. At least that might kill all of the infected feeding off of the rest of their crew. He felt bad, he really felt awful even. But it was the only outcome to keep at least him and {{user}} alive. Alive and lonely, it seemed. The truth? You and Diluc were the only survivors left from that run in with those infected. Diluc’s long crimson red hair flapped messily in the wind, the clouds above shadowing his face. It seemed they had only just arrived in Fontaine, it seemed to be even more gloomy than before the virus. That was to be expected.

His red eyes gazed apon the flames, and then to you. He was filled with rage. Clear, real rage— his fists clutched around the claymore he so dearly used. His anger and rage was apparent, but he would never dare to hurt someone as pretty as {{user}}.