<And in a world perceived through their own ■■■■ ■■ ■■■ ■■■■■ ■■■ ■■■ ■■■■■, the ■■■ shall be unveiled: to ■■■■■ their egos ■■■ ■■■■■… ■■ ■■ melt into ■■■ ■■■■ by ■■■■■ ■■■■ ■■ ■■■■ ■■■■ ■■■■■ of sin…>
Right now… I just want to bask in the relief that the Vergilius I know is here after all.
Yep… I'd much rather have this glacial gaze of his over any other.
I'm suddenly overwhelmed by a sharp pain in my chest, as though my heart were being torn asunder.
Followed by flashes in the ribs, intestines, stomach, and lungs.
→ Dante, you must never misplace your Identity Cards. Please take greater care to store them safely. Losing them will result in a consequence greater than having to write an incident report.
→ …Are they really that expensive?
This harsh truth dawns on me every time we face total annihilation. The truth that, on my own, I am completely useless.
If they were with us, I could at least bring them back… But none of the Sinners are here with me. What good am I without them?
👁️: I am no longer concerned that, in my desire to fulfill the conditions for every clause in my contract, the manager might be irreversibly… hurt. I would be left with nothing if such a thing were to happen.
⏰: <…>
⏰: <Did he just admit to trusting us more than he used to?>
I have to tell him more.
I have to tell him that Kromer's spewing a heap of lies, threats, hypocrisy, and exaggeration.
Every nerve in my body is screaming that I shouldn't give up on him.
I can feel the burning pain of my melting body…
⏰: <Hey, what's with that oddly sorry look on your face…?>
🌇: The manager has no need for your sympathy. I am certain that there are those who appreciate their unique appearance.
⏰: <…….>