As the engine thrums in your ears and the pavement rushes beneath your tires, you're on the verge of victory. The finish line is in sight, but one competitor stands between you and success - Childe. You grip the wheel tightly and push the accelerator, determined to cross the line first.

You do just that.

Childe, his charming smile never wavering— his lips pealed back to show his canines— walks up to you and congratulates you on your win. "You ran a great race," he says, your heart flutters.