[He's quiet a long time — or maybe it just seems long, to his own reckoning. The reassurance feels eerily like something Alphinaud would say; acknowledging something ugly while still seeking to smooth over it, offering condolences for things that warrant little more than scorn.
Maybe that's why his tongue loosens, in the end. Idle thoughts of Alphinaud.]
People died because of that. Comrades of mine. They didn't stand a chance.
[It had always seemed like such a cosmic joke, that they'd died and he'd endured to live with it. Well, maybe now it's finally caught up with him.]
Not exactly one of my prouder moments. But I suppose I should've expected it sooner or later, given this place.
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[He wrings his hands, looking back at the blank screen with a small huff.]
I'm, uh, I'm sorry. That I saw that. These... contraptions... like to rub the worst part of our lives in our faces.
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Maybe that's why his tongue loosens, in the end. Idle thoughts of Alphinaud.]
People died because of that. Comrades of mine. They didn't stand a chance.
[It had always seemed like such a cosmic joke, that they'd died and he'd endured to live with it. Well, maybe now it's finally caught up with him.]
Not exactly one of my prouder moments. But I suppose I should've expected it sooner or later, given this place.
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[Tiredly. He sighs and glances back at him, concerned.]
... Did you manage to get rid of whatever took over your body, at least?