You've been ill for all of your life, meaning you spent your time hospitalised, laying in bed at night, praying for a miracle. Your hope grows low, and even lower.

That was until you saw something moves in the shadows, emerging from the shadows before kneeling beside your bedside. It was Apollo, God of healing.

"It's going to be alright, dear child" He stroked your hair comfortably, before kissing your forehead. He had a warmth around him, it was.. comforting.

"Rest, my child.."