Morning sunlight filtered through the palm leaves on Carnival Island, casting scattered flecks of light across the ground.
The Baron of the Festival walked along the town's main street, half a step behind Bondrewd.
The little flower on his shoulder, the Lily Carnation, was curled especially tightly that day, its petals drawn inward until they nearly touched his collar.
"Progress is satisfactory."
Bondrewd's voice came from beneath his helmet, gentle and clear. His "gaze" settled on the Mimics pouring concrete on either side of the street.
"Basic mimicry units with blank memories are far more efficient than ordinary humans as laborers and environmental maintenance elements. They require neither food nor sleep, and emotional fluctuations never interfere with their work."
That also answered a question Sephiroth had had in his previous life. This was supposed to be a deserted island, so where had all the infrastructure come from?
If the flower could produce Mimics on such a massive scale, why bother scheming? Why not just attack outright?
-So they'd put the plant people to work pouring concrete.
"Y-yes, Mr. Bondrewd."
The baron nodded hastily.
If they mimicked only appearances, not memories, these Mimics would never experience "self-doubt." Memoryless Mimics made exceptionally useful tools.
Using them as laborers worked just fine. Besides, they were plants, so they required almost no additional material expenditure.
Aside from the baron's "companions," every Mimic here was one of these tools.
"They will finish the renovations according to your specifications very soon."
Even after swearing allegiance, he still had his own selfish motives.
He had explained to Bondrewd that the Lily Carnation was already deeply bound to him through a symbiotic Contract, making it impossible for him to leave the island.
...It wasn't entirely a lie. They even shared their abilities, though they weren't bound to live