[Roxas didn't waste any time with that whole waking up confused thing. He seems to be adjusted already -- wandering around in his normal clothes, mostly muted grays and blacks, tattered tan scarf wrapped loose around his neck and partially obscuring his expression
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...You chose to go to a war?
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It's the start of one. Despite what it looks like .. there wasn't that much fighting here. .. not until the end, I think.
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It was a village. People's homes, people's...lives. There wouldn't be much fighting there. They'd let the village go last, at the very end.
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That's not it. There wasn't any attack here. All of this was just .. a single man.
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Just one...who?
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Me.
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Why?
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I didn't kill them. But it's my fault they died.
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How so?
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Someone came to this world. A scientist. He chose this place because it was quiet, out of the way .. and the lack of technology meant he could do his work in private.
He used the people of this village as guinea pigs. Men, women, children .. all of them. He ripped out their hearts.
[he stands, not having found what he wanted, and finally looks up at the Sphere]
It was an experiment. He killed all of those people because he was trying to create a monster. To make someone else just like me.
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It's not your fault, you idiot.
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[he pushes back out into the center of the village, stopping then, sighing]
It's been years since then. The scientist .. I killed him myself for what he did. But I never stopped thinking about this place. I thought, maybe, if I saw it again .. I could somehow .. [shakes his head]
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You never forget, the things they did. Don't think it's possible.
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... you sound like you know from experience.
No. I know. But ... [absently he brushes a hand over his chest, not even realizing he's doing it] I've been carrying around this guilt every day since I was eighteen. I thought maybe if I saw it again I could .. come to terms with it, maybe .. ? [he just shakes his head, staring at the ground again] This was a bad idea.
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Never does, just makes it hurt more, hurt deeper. It's why criminals never return to the scene of the crime, unless they're dumb or crazy. Just makes the hole deeper and wider.
Eighteen? Lucky. I wasn't even thirteen then...
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I'm .. realizing that. It won't .. ever stop .. hurting, I guess.
[just. stares at her.] I'm sorry.
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