[ "Synthetic creation," he says, in reference to himself; Lucina's eyes widen for a brief second before settling back to their usual size. She may be reaching the point where she just isn't questioning how he self-describes just because it doesn't make sense to her.







Just kidding, she may never get to that point. ]

I don't understand. You refer to yourself as synthetic, but -

[ He talks. He moves. He processes and interprets information in real time and interacts with the world around him. She can't quite put it in such neat terms, but her argument is largely the same. He talks about himself like a product but behaves like a realised individual. ]

...You do not seem like it to me.

Connor, are you sure you're not mistaken?

[ She takes a sip of tea, coughs while doing so, sputters it back up, and sighs. ]