Chapter Text
"Tsk, this is what I get for a greeting after all these years? Ajax, where are your manners?" the creature before him teased, and Childe could hear the smirk in her voice even through her armored mask. She had been human, once, he was sure of that much at least. But now, who knows? Clad in the plated garb stolen off an Abyss Lector to better hide in the shadows of a god-forsaken land, she had taught him all he knew; all manners of combat and weaponry, and how to harness his abyssal taint and turn it into a weapon of mass destruction. But however powerful as he was, Childe had never bested her in combat, even when she fought him with only one arm. Now that she had found him this once, he knew in his current state he wouldn't be able to slip away again.
"M--master--" he rasped, spitting bile onto the grass between his hands, vision still swimming uncomfortably. His throat was searing; he hadn't been eating enough lately to throw up anything substantial, the stomach acid gnawing away at his esophagus as it rushed back up and into his mouth. Every inch of his skin felt like it was covered in a giant bruise, a bone-deep ache weighing him down. "What--?" He coughed again, gagging emptily, and it brought tears to his eyes. (Crying in front of his master, how shameful of him...)
"Wondering why I'm here? I'm not here to take you back to the Abyss, if that's what you were thinking." That sinister smile in her voice again. He tried not to betray his relief, because with Skirk there was almost definitely a catch. Her cold words, sharp with sarcasm, very rarely conveyed her true message. She had raised him well in that respect; a cunning, dirty liar. Pleasant for banter at times, but deadly in her intent.
(He dared to figure that she might enjoy Zhongli very much, they could talk circles around each other all day--)
"Don't lie," he growled and grit his teeth as he rode out another staggering wave of pain. "Something is wrong with me. Tell me what it is." If she really wasn't here to take him back... there had to be another reason. She wouldn't search for him and chase him down in Liyue out of simple boredom. "Skip--the nonsense--Skirk--"
She chuckled, clicking her tongue. "Straight to the point, hm? You're the same as ever. Say, do you remember that gift I taught you all those years ago?"
Of course he remembered. The pinnacle of transformation. Foul Legacy.
She knew he still recalled it, and merely continued speaking. Calm, collected, and as unflappable as ever. "Your metamorphosis is nearing completion, Ajax. I am simply here to bear the news."
Childe's heart skipped a beat, his muscles feeling as if they were being stripped in segments off of his bones. He bit his lip until it bled to mask any stray cry of pain, the taste of blood mixing with bile in his mouth. Metamorphosis? What? "What do you mean?" he snarled like a feral animal, bristling under his master's gaze. What did this have to do with Foul Legacy? "WHAT DO YOU MEAN?!"
"Humans are not meant to be touched by the Abyss, Ajax. You know this. But sometimes, exceptions need to be made." Skirk recalled with a hint of fondness that time when she stumbled across the broken body of a small ginger-haired teen laying in a pile of rubble; the way he shivered and cried, nursing his injured limbs, but still burning with passion and the unbridled will to survive. To succeed. To combat the Abyss and make it out alive. It was that moment she knew she wanted to keep him around, even if it was merely for entertainment, or accompaniment. He'd be more than just dead weight to her, perhaps even one day an equal. And besides, the monster he awakened was... a problem, to put it lightly. "I taught you Foul Legacy because it was necessary; the odds of your survival were low otherwise, let alone making it out of the Abyss alive. However, power like this comes at a cost. You can't maintain this form forever."
Another wave of nausea and icy fear washed over Childe, and he pressed his forehead against the withered grass, his head too heavy and his arms too weak to hold himself up. The smell of vomit was acrid in his nostrils. It hurt too much to even think. He had so many questions that he was unable to voice, a pained groan leaving his mouth unwelcomed when he tried to speak, his body trembling violently. Would he no longer be able to maintain his Abyssal form, or his human one...?
"The nature of the Abyss is to overpower, to corrupt all signs of human life. It's been eating away at what's left of your humanity." Childe couldn't see, but he knew her gaze was fixed directly at him. The playful lilt of her voice was gone now, and Skirk sounded... almost sorry for him. Pity was too harsh a word, an emotion too foreign for her to even feel, but she was displeased. Upset, even, but not enough to offer comfort. She was never the comforting type anyways. "Your body will transform, and once that happens you will not be able to go back."
Ah. So that was it.
...Your body will transform... and you will not be able to go back...
The words slowly settled in Childe's muddled brain, and the first thing he felt was derealization. It was just a nightmare, right? But the pain felt all too real, his master's presence all too unpleasant. Next came despair, enveloping him like a shroud. His heart fluttered faster and faster, and the slippery feeling of loss crept inside his bones and twisted his stomach. He'd always craved a noble death in battle, dying in the midst of his comrades engaging in something or other heroic, like his father always wanted. His father's face swam before his eyes right then... could a man like that ever love a monster? Childe.. Ajax... knew well enough the answer to that question.
He didn't even get to die on his own terms either, let alone the terms of a father who he always grew to disappoint.
He felt Skirk's hand lightly on his shoulder, a parting touch. "The more you fight it, the more painful it will be. The call of the Abyss is summoning you, and it would do you good to answer it. I answered mine," she said, and was gone as suddenly as she appeared. He was now alone.
The third thing Childe felt was determination. It wriggled its way out from his core, pushing its way past the overwhelming curtain of despair and under-realized grief. He didn't want to lose his humanity, it was the same thing as dying an unworthy death. If possible, he would fight until the end.
A pulse of agony flashed through his body and he shrieked.
_______
Zhongli used his elemental sight as best as he could, tracing through trampled underbrush to pursue the strongest trail of Abyssal energy he could find. He knew there was a chance that it wasn't Childe, but with Xiao also on the hunt it eased his mind ever so slightly. The further he went from Liyue Harbor and the Sea of Clouds the more anxiety crawled its way into his chest, making his heart pound faster and faster. Childe couldn't be too far ahead, not in his current state.
Abyssal Corruption. Zhongli was almost sure of it. He hadn't seen much of Childe the past few weeks, but when he handed over his gnosis the man reeked of Abyss. And from the stories he had heard from Aether, it wasn't too difficult to put the pieces together: Childe knew far more about the Abyss than he let on, using its power to increase his prowess in battle. Undeniably one of the reasons he ascended so quickly to become Harbinger Tartaglia. But dabbling in the magic of the Abyss was devastating to the minds of those not specifically deigned to wield it.
His heart felt heavy with despair until he finally stumbled across a withered clearing. The thin, gangly body of a certain ginger-haired Harbinger lay splayed across the ground. And he was choking on something.
Zhongli surged forwards, hopelessness instantly being replaced with his worry from earlier increased tenfold as he dropped to his knees by the fragile man. He titled Childe's head to the side as he weakly retched, a dribble of dark bile pouring out of his half-open mouth. Childe had lost an alarming amount of weight since the incident with the gnosis, Zhongli noted, his clothes draping loosely over his emaciated body and his eyes sunken deep into his skull. The man squirmed and groaned in the consultant's arms as Zhongli tried to keep him still, gently running a hand through his sweaty bangs. "Shhh, shhh, Ajax," he murmured under his breath, trying to coax the other into at least opening his eyes. To prove he was, at a minimum, conscious.
Slowly Childe's eyes cracked open, and Zhongli could see that they were red-rimmed and dark, nothing like their normal blue color. And his skin was cold to the touch. "Ajax, it's me, Zhongli. Could you try and tell me what's going on? What are you feeling?"
Childe shuddered again in his grasp, clawing at the dirt, his legs kicking out behind him and scrabbling for purchase as he rode out another wave of fresh agony. "Z--Zhongli--" he stammered, curling up into a tight ball in the man's arms. "Zhongli please--"
"Do you know what's happening, Ajax?"
"She--she said my body is changing," Childe sobbed, arching his back in pain. "I can't stop it. It hurts-- I won't be able to go back--"
Zhongli scanned the clearing, and found no traces of another being. No evidence that anyone was here other than Childe and himself. "Who told you this?"
"Please leave me," he whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut. "I'm turning into a monster...don't let me hurt anyone else..."
Zhongli grit his teeth, refusing to stop stroking Childe's hair as he gradually faded from consciousness. Things were worse than he thought. "You won't hurt anyone else as long as I am here," he comforted quietly, a stray tear falling down his cheek. He was losing his composure. He was losing Childe. "Xiao."
The yaksha he summoned appeared by his side and instantly snarled, baring his teeth. The Abyssal energy was radiating off of Childe in waves, he could almost see it poisoning the air like his karma when he donned the mask. He remained still, resisting every urge that screamed kill, kill, KILL. "What is wrong with him?"
"A serious case of Abyssal Corruption. Please transport us to the depths of the Golden House, it is one of the only places we have that we are sure can contain him. It would keep our people safe should... the worst occur," he replied, willing his voice to stop trembling. Perhaps the God of War had softened over the years, he thought to himself, but despite his usual immaculate self-possession, seeing his beloved in so much agony couldn't help but make him feel painfully mortal.
"Will he be able to recover?"
"I will be able to aid him, but the outcome of the battle is to be determined by him alone."