Someone Had to Take the Blame

I'm sorry I was born human!

As a human being, recognizable as such in both biological and even sociological terms, I not only had to do my job and keep myself alive, but also had to meet the basic expectations of being a person.

Physical death wasn't frightening. Social death was, because you never knew how many years people would keep bringing up your embarrassing moments. Guilliman was in that very predicament.

Wrapped tightly in his little blanket, Guilliman—who had nowhere left to go—looked troubled. He picked a teapot out of the pile of junk behind him, poured himself and Hogg a cup of cold tea that had been sitting there for God knew how long, and began to tell his story:

"I vaguely remember that the sun was shining brightly that day. The smell of the food in the cafeteria had already begun to drift toward the Administrative Hall. One sniff told me they were serving my favorite dish. Even though I was exhausted from working on paperwork for so long, I felt genuinely delighted."

"But for some reason, everything changed after that day. Mother stopped calling me her child and started calling me an unfilial son. My children stopped calling me Father and just referred to me as 'him.'

"Even though Mother didn't chop me down with her axe, I could tell that everyone looked at me differently, as if I were a pile of garbage.

"Even Old Man Yellow, that despicable, shameless bastard, looked at me strangely. He even kept parading a Brain-Strong Cat in front of me.

"My life is over. So I can only numb myself with work. But whenever I think of the culprit, I just can't swallow my anger!

"You'd think people would at least keep their word. I paid him, and he