Cecil was certain his decision was the right one, he just had to make Ethan see the light. Ethan knew he was a walking killing machine but was denying it at every step, trying to ignore what his purpose was and what ultimately made him different to organic lifeforms. He didn’t care that they were different races, it didn’t mean anything because he didn’t understand it. It may mean something to them but to him it was just another name for different kinds of organic being. The problem was he wasn’t organic, he didn’t get a name like they do. Everything to do with machines were all just Machina whether they could move like he did or something simple like carry round a person like Norman. It wasn’t as simple as Ethan thought it might be, he was still just a pile of parts put together by someone else. They had people they could relate to, he just had a bunch of soulless parts to relate to.

Staring down at the ground Cecil remained quiet, feeling that Ethan was just wasting his time. It was obvious what his purpose was, he was told what his purpose was by a professional. Ethan wasn’t a professional of Machina, he was a Magi who could look up to those stories of other Magi and become a saviour. Some accident if he was simply doing what he was supposed to do, if that was an accident then his whole purpose and function was an accident. He was basically being told that he was malfunctioning. Only way he would be able to do that again was to malfunction again but possibly kill them in the process. He couldn’t relate to Magi, he wasn’t one and didn’t even know who they were and why it was apparently a named role.

He was really feeling awful now, even if Ethan was trying to make him feel better. He felt completely alienated and foreign to them with all their claims, like his actions were always going to be regarded as an accident or a mistake. He didn’t know what he was supposed to be if all his actions were either going to be an accident or some sort of miracle. It was all that which should had told Ethan that he was a combat Machina and that those mistakes and accidents were what he was made to do. He was always going to be alone in this and should be left alone before he might end up causing another ‘accident’.

Continuing his staring at the tiled roof he simply thought about how little Ethan’s reasons for him to be a part of them meant in the long term, how these emotions that he apparently had weren’t programmed into him. It was impossible to say that they weren’t put there for a reason, it was something Ethan literally couldn’t explain because in his own words he ‘didn’t know a lot about machines’. Who was he kidding? That was just him trying to bring him down from this funk. It made no sense to him. Frowning deeper he didn’t notice Ethan stumbling at him, gasping when he placed a hand on his shoulder. Looking up and staring at Ethan he moved a foot back, still frowning at him. That was all incorrect, it was like he hadn’t paid attention to his past words.

“I don’t remember…where I came from…” he spoke slowly before trying to push Ethan away as he stepped to the side, “I don’t remember how I was activated or where I came from! That means I’ve forgotten that, doesn’t it? A Machina can only remember a few months and I’ve only been awake for a few months! At least from what I can remember!” Backing off along the rooftop he shook his head, raising his fists. “You’re not listening to me and I don’t know how long you’ve not been. You’re only saying things to better suit you to make me come back….”

He didn’t know why Ethan was so persistent, especially when it had only been a few days. He had seen how deadly his attacks were, how one slipup would spell the end. “Muran, Dimuran, Ydran, moorcat…they’re all different, all unique filled with unique people and unique names. I’m just a Machina, just like how Norman’s invention was and how your sword was. Machina are mass-produced to be used by others whether it be for convenience or for doing jobs you don’t want to do yourselves. I’m just a…drone…pretending I have feelings and emotions…just to get close and kill others…”

Looking like he might as well be crying he just couldn’t seem to do it, simply displaying the actions that would be similar to the act of crying. There was no tears or choking, just shaking and the expressions associated. “What if I was made to kill Magi, huh? What if the reason they want to disable me and pull me apart is because I don’t function correctly? I’m not a Magi, I’m not alive or functioning like you are! I fall apart, I’ll be tossed aside. I run out of power, I get dismantled and used for spare parts…” Raising his gauntlet the palm opened up, the now exposed crystal in the centre charging up with electricity. “Stop trying to make excuses for me and go back to your friends. All this is fake just for me to get close to you and blow all of you through the walls. All of you have to sleep sometime while I don’t. I could end up having another ‘accident’ during the night…”