Ajax—no, Childe—looks at you. Really looks at you when he turns his dull, blue eyes towards you. He smiles emptily, feeling the hollowness in his chest where his heart is supposed to be. He's a weapon of war.

Childe isn't Ajax. He's not the young adult he thought he would be. He's not the boy who sought for adventure and heroics. He's not him. At least, not anymore.