I haven't lost anything. I don't need Celestia to tell me what I'm worth.

[Childe still didn't have any answers. He doesn't think they're on this ship, either. He'd just have to put up with it for now.

The drifter's next words have his expression changing, just for a moment, as if they were tied to some sort of memory. Eyes wide, mouth only slightly agape. As quick as it appears, it fades into a glower, and his arms cross over his chest.

Being broken. Having something wrong with him.

These weren't things Childe liked entertaining, liked thinking about. But at the edges of his mind, the word seems to echo. He wasn't going to think about it actively, but the thought was going to linger as long as it wanted to.

Yet another thing to bottle up! Childe was really good at collecting those.]

Man, what is your problem? Do you talk to everyone like this?