Perturabo listened to his sister's accusations and explanations. In the past, he would have listened to these words, turned his gaze toward his father, and pondered how this mortal had struggled to prove himself worthy of being his father.
But now, he only wanted to find the slightest trace of redemption within these endless memories, to obtain some different answer from his sister.
"I know how they slandered me. I also remember how I used Plato's Allegory of the Cave to condemn their ignorance and folly."
Perturabo tried to keep his voice steady. This time, he hoped he could get along with his sister, rather than ending as they had in past experiments—with hysterical rage.
"You've always denied your divinity, haven't you? You really are stubborn."
Perturabo's sister turned her head away, unwilling to look at his face. Tears slid down her cheeks and fell into the dust and ashes on the ground.
"Fate has always been decided by ourselves. There is no shadow manipulating destiny." Perturabo had no idea how many times he had said this to his sister, but his tone changed with every repetition. "We were born only to atone in this vile world."
"So you abandoned your ideals of utopia? Forgot the beautiful designs you and I discussed on summer nights? After all of it was shattered, you chose to smash every imperfection to pieces beneath savage bombardment? You are disgraceful."
"That's why I..." Perturabo stopped. He had wanted to say that he envied his father's son, Andos, but the pride in his heart would not allow him to bare his feelings so openly.
Even if the one before him was merely a robot he had created with his own hands to escape reality.
Andos... Perturabo recalled that mortal who had left such a deep impression