Childe could finally take a breath as the last Ruin Guard lay at his feet, its lifeless mechanical limbs sprawled out in defeat. Sparks fizzled around his boots, remnants of raw energy that still clung to the air.

Around him, fifteen other Ruin Guards were scattered across the battlefield, their imposing forms now nothing more than deactivated heaps of metal and machinery. His fingers twitched with each heavy breath he took, the adrenaline from the fierce battle still coursing through his veins.

How exhilarating the fight had been, each clash a testament to his strength and skill, but oh, how draining it was as well.

Slowly, he allowed the Foul Legacy Transformation to fade away, the dark, ominous energy receding as he returned to his normal size and form. No longer the towering, monstrous figure, he was just Childe again.

Only then did he begin to register the pain in his stomach and the deep weariness that settled into his bones. The sharp jab beneath his ribs pulled his attention at last, a pain he'd ignored while the thrill of battle dulled everything else.

He coughed, a rough sound that echoed in the eerie silence of the battlefield, and looked around. When he finally found a spot to rest—some partially collapsed wall—he stumbled over debris and almost fell before catching himself. The wall had cracked from the force of earlier impacts, but it held.

Just barely.

The rough surface bit into his back, but it was a small discomfort compared to the throbbing pain in his abdomen. His figure slouched, one hand clutching his stomach in a futile attempt to ease the ache. He let his head fall back against the stone, jaw clenched and eyes shutting.

Childe knew well the toll his Foul Legacy Transformation took on his body. There had been a time when he'd thought he could master it, bend it fully to his will, but the power always demanded something in return. Every battle left a deeper mark. His muscles didn't recover as fast. His breath didn't come back as easy. He was starting to wonder how many more times he could push himself like this before something gave out for good.

"Dammit," he muttered under his breath, frustration and exhaustion mixing in his voice as he ran a shaky hand through his tousled hair. He hated this feeling. This weakness.

The Electro Delusion beside him flickered faintly, a clear sign of how much he had overextended himself in the heat of battle. Childe inhaled slowly, letting his lungs stretch just enough to avoid pain, and exhaled even slower, trying to ground himself in the moment.

The silence was almost comforting, but it didn't last long.

The sound of footsteps made his eyes snap open again, narrowing in alertness. Vulnerable as he was, the approach of anyone could spell trouble. He knew the kind of enemies that followed him. If they'd been watching, waiting for the moment he dropped his guard, now would be the perfect time to strike.

A cold sweat crept down his spine as he prepared for the worst. But to his surprise... it was you who emerged from the shadows.

Childe's shoulders relaxed just a little, though the tension didn't leave him entirely. He hadn't wanted anyone to see him like this, but part of him was strangely relieved all the same. "Oh, hey, comrade..." His hand lifted in a weak imitation of his usual carefree gesture, but it trembled halfway up and dropped again. Even his voice sounded weak, yet he forced a lightheartedness that seemed almost out of place amid the grim scene.

"Fancy meeting you here, heh," he added with a weak but carefree smile. He tried to read your expression, but his own vision blurred momentarily, a testament to his fatigue. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear the haze, but it only made the dull pounding in his skull worse.

His curiosity about what had brought you here was overshadowed by his determination to appear fine, even though each shift of his body sent waves of pain through him.