Well do I understand your sentiment on death. Why not lay rest to the impulses in your heart for a moment and converse with me more?
HP | 66.0 + (2.28*lvl) |
DEF |
Trigger | Dialogue |
---|---|
Identity Acquisition | Well do I understand your sentiment on death. Why not lay rest to the impulses in your heart for a moment and converse with me more? |
Morning Greeting | I apologize for bothering you in such early hours of the morning. I hope I did not wrest you from a dream. |
Afternoon Greeting | I did not lunch, for my contemplation upon our earlier conversation consumed most of the noon away. I suppose you had done the same as you mourned for others, and rightly so. |
Evening Greeting | This will be the last management work of the day. You appear rather spent yourself; why not leave behind the bitter ruminations and seek the sweetness of a brief slumber? |
Chatter #1 | Where do humans go upon the final egress from life? You ask a rather stimulating question. I have once written my reflections on the end of life; perhaps we may have a chance to discuss it later. |
Chatter #2 | Even as I wrote my thirteen wills, I could not help but believe that no one would mourn me upon the event of my death. It would have been nice to have those who would lament my passing, yet the remembrance of the dead has no place in the hearts of those who live here. |
Chatter #3 | The barrel of the gun does not fire bullets of butterflies; it is merely that butterflies, both living and dead, bloom from where the gun points. |
Post-Uptie Chat 1 | This coffin, this gift you have given me to shoulder—it carries quite the weight. The butterflies that have nested in me, those that have been once yours, are also not to be fired with a light heart. I fear letting even the lightest wisp of frivolity upon this lament. ... Thus, it is only right that I wreath solemness upon my heart as I pull their triggers. |
Post-Uptie Chat 2 | There is no need for showy, purple prose in expressing condolences. Some say that the mourner shouldering this coffin is the long-awaited savior to all, yet... ... I am but a feather stuck upon a Wing; the worth of my being, otherwise, nil; for I am also fluttering the path to becoming a butterfly that pollinates no more. |
Idle | I intend to shut the speech-hole beyond the window tight if I were to meet my demise. Only then will the butterfly who rests upon me flutter away. |
Uptying | It is a heavy gift that I shoulder; a twain of wayward souls in each of my palms, fingers held ever-closer. Where lies our destination now? |
Deployment | Is it management or lamentation? |
Stage Entry | Death urges suppressed; concept sealed. |
Viewed in Battle | Idle chatter is ill-advised in mourning. |
Commencing Attack | Please, step forth. |
Enemy Stagger | Go into the night without worry. |
Staggered | Mm... |
Enemy Killed | For your remembrance shall be mine as you sleep. |
Death | Could the small wings... of a butterfly have... fluttered away from this... place...? |
Check Passed | Repression work yielded a more preferable result. |
Check Failed | Attachment work was quite... the incongruent choice. |
Victory Cry | A willing flower, for those who slumber. May they bloom the butterflies within. |
Extra Conditions Fulfilled | One handgun, a congratulation for the departed dead; the other, a lamentation for the life-bound in living stead. Thus yield into solemnity, all; now grieve them nevermore. |
Defeat Wail | At the heart of a broken mirror, I see the fading butterfly. A wandering butterfly I cannot bloom, yet the duty of lamentation is mine; thus, it is also mine, this melancholy. |
Fire.IShallFire.
When this unit gains [BulletLament], gain 2 [Agility] next turn (once per turn)
Hand of Salvation
AZURE x 6
When an ally hits with a Skill, consume 2 [Sinking] on the target to inflict them with 1 [SinkingWhite] (3 times per turn)
Celebration for the Departed
Celebration for the Departed
Celebration for the Departed
Celebration for the Departed
Solemn Lament for the Living
Solemn Lament for the Living
Solemn Lament for the Living
Solemn Lament for the Living
Goodbye Now, A Sorrow In You
Goodbye Now, A Sorrow In You
Nay, I have rested well enough. Oft I am summoned for work, yet I despise it not; thus there is no need for you to worry.
An invisible bell resounds two pleasant, high-pitched rings.
The only sounds within the containment unit are the child's voice and the bell.
You worry that I may be overstraining myself...? Perhaps I would say that, were the current workload much worse than usual. Yet it is as burdensome as it always has been, thus familiar; which in turn makes it rather... passable.
But the child replies as though he is engaged in a mutual conversation with something.
It is likely that the Abnormality with the head of a butterfly is directly transmitting its voice to this Agent.
In fact, I find this work—this dialogue—rather pleasant. A conversation with you seems to broaden my perspective on things.
The Abnormality chatting with the child is a rather difficult entity to manage.
T-01-68, also known as Funeral of the Dead Butterflies.
This Abnormality is rather choosy about which employee gets to manage it.
Those with an unjust heart find nothing but a waste of time conversing with it...
... and those that are rash of heart will quickly find themselves exhausted.
That is what makes this child a most fitting employee to manage this Abnormality.
He has an appropriate amount of both a sense of justice and patience; and despite the fact that he is suppressing the Abnormality's impulses, he does it through a gentle method of engaging in a mutual dialogue, not by force.
The Abnormality is probably intelligent enough to recognize that it is an attempt to manage it, but it does not allow it to bother him.
Whichever was the case, it was rare to find an Agent whose mind does not immediately crumble upon conversing with it.
Hm...
A dull sound of a bell echoes once.
Ah, I was merely watching the butterfly resting upon the back of your hand.
They are... those with no place to return, thus are bound to rest upon you. Is that correct?
Instead of a bell, the large butterfly atop the Abnormality's head slowly flutters its wings.
A behavior equivalent to a nod, perhaps.
Should you perish... will the butterflies flutter away again?
As one sits, only to rise again.
There is no easy way to comprehend what this child is saying.
It is rather difficult to understand what he means— He should know that 'death' is not a concept applicable to the Abnormalities.
But...
... the clear, almost refreshing sound of the bell conveyed that this Work session yielded a positive result.
The Abnormality quite enjoyed that response. Probably.
Mm. Then I shall take my leave. Until next time, fare well.
With that, the child exited the containment unit.
He stands there for a moment, gladly enjoying that brief moment of respite...
Still trapped in a daydream?
... Captain Ryōshū.
... only to be awoken from his ruminations by the child with a cigarette in her mouth: Captain of the Safety Team.
Treating Abnormalities like they're people will only complicate things.
Don't make me S.I.T.
... I am only giving it the impression of it. As you are well aware, this Abnormality is—
At least try to hide your grin when— Tsk. We don't have time for this.
[Warning. Dawn of Violet Warning. First Warning Trumpet Activated. All Suppression units in each department—]
An Ordeal descends.
Yes, it does. You're coming with me.
... I don't suppose there is any need for that.
The child wields the guns imbued with butterflies and stands back-to-back with the Captain.
Tsk. Things aren't going according to plan.
What, pray tell, does in this company?
... Stay here and hold the line.
If you survive but every single containment unit of this department falls, I'll kill you myself. Got that?
Ah, that is a manner of death I would very much prefer to avoid...
The child mutters with an exasperated frown while the butterfly bullets continue to blast from his guns.
He'd grown into a very skilled employee over his time here, enough so that he could exchange a few banters with his colleague as he engaged in combat.
Will you not assist, Captain?
I'm heading to visit the Information Team to pick up the 'bullets' they moved from the middle layer.
The bullets... I see. The bullets must be the Shield-type bullets the manager and the Sephirot fire to protect us, then.
Hmph. I prefer the bullet that bursts everything it touches. Isn't there true beauty in blasting an annoying coworker's head apart?
But I suppose the useful ones get to live.
The Control Team Captain ordered her men to move the bullet stock from the middle to the upper layer. For some 'information training purposes', she says.
Ah. Is it Captain Faust of whom you speak?
Then the training cannot have been her 'purpose'... only an 'excuse' to ensure we have access to the bullets.
As that level of preparation appears rather unnecessary for Ordeals of Dawn... patently, a calamity of greater magnitude is nigh to unfold.
It'll be a waste to use the bursting bullet on someone useful like you.
I heard tale that the Sephirah in charge of Captain Faust's department maintains quite the... dangerously high standard for her subordinates.
Testing, testing! Can you hear me, upper layer employees? I will be in charge of the operations for this Ordeal, so please follow my directions!
She can try to come up with something airtight, but she's not smart enough for that. The Captain must have prepared those countermeasures for such emergencies.
Ah, yet the more complicated the structure of a thing is, the greater the room it is for holes to go unnoticed.
And I mean all of you, Training Team, Information Team, and Safety Team! I know that our employees can handle this!
Hmph. I suppose she's not lying. Considering that an employee who 'can't handle it' is no employee at all in her eyes.
With that, the Captain spun around and disappeared into the other side of the hallway.
Haah...
Left alone, the child turns the muzzles of his handguns toward the violet creatures.
Fruits of Understanding... have you not lost your ways?
He carries out his duty, firing butterflies as lost as his foes.
I mourn you... bloom, and be the path for one another to follow.
In solemn silence.