Cecil had been thinking about what Nymira had told him throughout the journey, but his own doubts over his own control and the reality setting in had him feeling undeniably terrible. Everything was coming crashing down on him all at once, making him feel overwhelmed and unable to shake off the worry that he was going to seriously hurt someone sometime soon. Everything destructive that he did was still a part of his programming, he was always going to struggle between his own identity and what he truly was. Maybe it was simply childish to think he could be a part of the organic civilisation, maybe not; either way, he didn’t know where he belonged. To be told he had done a good job doing what he was designed to do made him wonder if it was anything spectacular at all. Nymira was just trying to make him feel better, he knew that and appreciated it, only problem was he couldn’t overlook the fact that the world saw him as a strange Machina doing what he was made to do.

Throughout the entire journey he couldn’t help but feel that way, that all the praise he might receive in the future was just the result of him following his programming. He didn’t want to be like this though, he didn’t want to continue feeling the guilt that could only be created from destroying organic lifeforms. He was certainly feeling a little less than confident that he should even be here with them. He should had just jumped out earlier, but lost that opportunity when he had instead phased out mentally. His processing was running slower than usual, his power only running at a third of what it usually did and by the time he had recovered everybody was already getting out. His processing hadn’t completely returned, he was just functioning at this point and was remaining fairly quiet.

While he couldn’t wash up like everyone else he still managed to find a cloth to clean his gauntlets, quietly washing up as everyone else bathed and bandaged their injuries. He didn’t have any injuries, he had managed to get out of it completely injury-free even though he really shouldn’t had. He had brought those creatures to the campsite originally, he should had been much more careful.

As everyone was now much better off than what they were when they arrived it was time to eat, only problem was he didn’t eat or have a need to consume anything for fuel. This was a fairly common problem he faced as it meant he had no chance of looking like he might just be a normal Muran. Everybody was happily drinking various liquids and waiting for their food, but Cecil had nothing and no reason to be there. He instead sat away from the table with his chair facing away from the others, looking like he was still with the group but keeping out of their conversations. He didn’t want to get any closer, especially with Wyth nearby. Sitting quietly he instead mindlessly flipped the end of his index finger off before flipping it back on again, continuing to do so as if it was a simple distraction like picking your fingernails.