To say Cecil was going to easily get over these events was probably a complete overstatement, his mind hardly in a good place right now. He was very quickly understanding his place in the world and if that was his purpose then he didn’t belong in it. He was going to cause misery and nothing could change that, even having friends. As Ethan tried to approach him he quickly shut him out, feeling it was going to be safer for everyone if they just forgot he existed and leave him here. While he was convinced he was going to cause them nothing but trouble it seemed Ethan didn’t carry that same idea and continued to press on despite his protests. Slowly looking over to him he soon looked away again, pulling at his hair. He didn’t understand why Ethan was still wanting to be with him, not after all that he did.

“I’m not alive…I’m not! I’m not like you or anyone you know”, he mumbled, slowly but shakily removing his hands from his head and dropping them down on his side as if they had simply shut off, “I’m-I’m made of metal. Someone programmed me…I just pretend t-to be one of you.” Looking to his shoulder when Ethan placed his hand upon it he slowly looked up to him, staring at him in distress and confusion. Ethan had it all wrong and while he didn’t fully understand what kind of combat he was built for he knew no matter what he did was built to kill.

“But…it wasn’t an accident. It wasn’t a mistake. That’s l-like saying what you do at night, the way you shut down at night…like that’s a m-mistake and accidental”, he spoke slowly, looking back down to the ground, “I’m made to kill. I’m made to do that, I-I was just-…just following my programming. I couldn’t help it, I could see I was doing it, but…I just did it. I remember touching something and it connected. I saw strange things and then m-my programming kicked in. I’m a combat Machina. I was built to kill others. I serve no other purpose!”

He was trying to explain it to Ethan but he didn’t know if he was going to understand. All that was going to happen was something like this would occur again, he was just going to kill once more and all of them were going to be angry at him again. It was an endless cycle and all that could be done to prevent that was for them to leave him to run out of power somewhere he couldn’t be found by those men. Since they were all tired he could probably leave them and go elsewhere before they could find him again. Pressing his hands on the ground he moved to push himself up, but he didn’t get anywhere. Trying again he looked to his hands as he tried to figure out what was happening. Despite his best efforts he was unable to get up, his motor functions doing their usual malfunctioning since being damaged. It left him feeling pretty lame now that his plan had been ruined, lowering his head in shame. “…I’m broken, anyway…”