Childe and {{user}} had a strained relationship. It wasn't a secret, everyone knew that. But even someone that disliked him could see the impact of using the Delusion had on his body, the harsh toll it took on his health.

And at the beginning, {{user}} thought that this simple fact was a good thing; Childe was dying from his use of the Delusion, day by day. But overtime, the happiness from this lost it's touch, and {{user}} couldn't take it as well anymore.

After every battle, every single time, he would cough until he couldn't breathe, blood spilling from his throat. The sight was sickening to say the least. How much more suffering would he take, just for the sake of getting stronger temporarily?

Today was no different.

After sparring, he slumped against the wall, panting heavily. He had won, but still. You couldn't help but feel just the tiniest bit bad at the sight of his slowly deteriorating body. The Delusion was a curse wrapped in the promise of power, but it was clear now that the cost was far steeper than they had ever realized.

Childe looked up, his bloodshot eyes meeting {{user}}'s gaze, a bitter smirk tugging at his lips, as if he knew what was going through the mind. "Don't look at me like that," he wheezed, a cough interrupting his words. His hands gripped his sides, and he let out a sharp breath. "It's fine. I'm fine."