To be of assistance to you would be my great honor.

The Originium crystal on my forehead is oft regarded as an adornment. A very convenient mistake; it lets me save the effort of concealing my Infected status. That said, every time pain crosses my brow, I'm deeply struck by my own foolishness. To say I leave Sargon asks just where my path now leads.

Sesa is still quite young. Indeed, I am but a few years his senior. Yet, his grasp on patience is somewhat awkward, and his resentment lacks solidity. Should he seek a spark of truth to ignite his thirst for vengeance, I would be more than willing to oblige... Ah, should you forbid it, I would not act out of turn.

I abhor the black market. Only lowly, vapid ruses circle it. People all believe themselves the most veteran players, yet all end dismally. At times, you need only think with some care, and you can send someone to their demise—even a padishah's very own appointed lord ameer. Hm, might you be curious?

That great fire, you say? Do you look to blame me? Indeed, I shall not contest it. But know this: not a single innocent suffered in that fire, nor did any perpetrator survive. In the black market of Sargon, the good only comes in one form... They are the ones who've endured. And I have endured.

Kal'tsit... Dr. Kal'tsit and I, are indeed old acquaintances. To be precise, she was my rescuer and savior, but be at ease; I am yours now. Oh, was that not your concern? How remarkable, that as a coworker of our 'Kal'tsit,' you could still be so unwary?

Were I to return to Columbia'... I cannot say I've never entertained the possibility over the years, but such supposition would only serve to shake me. Doctor, I hope you will use me to the utmost. If such mild civilian technologies have become a stranger to me, I would now much rather renounce them.

Elliot? How do you... Hm. Elliot. His parents gone before their time, his one beloved, esteemed teacher dead in Sargon. The work which bore his faith but a stepping stone in someone else's conspiracy. To this day, he is bereft of anything. Elliot Glover is merely a laughable life lived.

I know a scientist—a star so bright, a soul so graceful, a leader so natural. I admire him, rely on him, and regard him as my elder brother. However, his end is not a good one, considerably not. So you must protect yourself well, Doctor. After all, we do get along quite pleasantly.

How long it has been—since such clear skies.

Your Operator, Passenger. I have long wished to work alongside you, Doctor. I'm sure we will both find this journey most enjoyable.

Marvelous tactics, owing to your command, no doubt.

I shall refine my services even further for you and Rhodes Island. Trust that the Sand Soldier of Reefsteep Black Market has more tricks up his sleeve.

I truly hope that my amusing Operator codename will remind you—Doctor, there is no need to trust others, and you are capable of doing everything yourself. Oh? It seems you have other views. I shall duly accede, then.

Allow me to demonstrate how a truly exceptional weapon of war operates.

I am quite familiar with strategy and planning. Of course, should you have other ideas, I defer to you.

Let us depart.

Now then, we have everything in place.

I heed your command.

As you wish.

Should this be your intent...

I am prepared.

Now go.

Punish these people.

All as you desire.

Begone with the wind.

You must pardon me; it seems my lowly weapons have barely served to accomplish this mission. Should you assent to my adopting more... extreme methods, we may thus have an easier time.

Thunder and lightning are but a form of punishment. They have paid the price for their ill deeds. How good it is, do you not think?

I cannot permit the punished to leave my sight in peace. Doctor, I plead you permit me to perform this aftercare.

A rather harsh defeat. But worry not, Doctor. Those who have snatched victory from your hands... will be privileged to experience suffering in full.

What a captivating landship. Doctor, Sargon has never accorded me such treatment.

Oh. Might something be the matter?

Doctor, care for some coffee? I grew these beans myself. Back in Sargon, it was my sole form of recreation.

Arknights.

The New Year... what an unfamiliar concept. The golden sands of Sargon remain unchanged year after year. Making resolutions for a new start on an artificial calendar is nothing but empty self-consolation. That said, here at Rhodes Island, perhaps a day when everyone has a common cause for celebration is indeed special.

My greetings, Doctor.

A birthday should be no cause for celebration. It is, instead, a countdown to one's death. Each time such an occasion arises, I reflect on what remains unaccomplished. The terminus of ideals and hatred lies far beyond sight, much like the unpredictable end of one's life. These ravings are perhaps not suitable for this occasion. I should congratulate you instead. Happy birthday.

Having lived such an absurd life, I am but a husk of a man. Yet, from this ship that Kal'tsit has placed great hope in, I caught a glimpse of light in this boundless, dull realm. Doctor, I look forward to the sights you will show me, after we traverse the immeasurable hatred and battles ahead.