[ It is slightly discomfitting, having him sum her up in a few simple and short sentences. Like a throbbing pain right below the flesh of her forehead, the discomfort is far more potent than any possible pain the situation may foster. Lucina still only barely understands what an android is (if someone said to her, "like the watch, but human-shaped", a lot of time may be saved) but there is a bluntness to his manner that borders on mechanical. Not cold, not - not rigid, not even unfriendly... but unsubtle, distinctly so. Factual. She's thinking of him less and less like Laurent and more like his own - odd - person.

She resists squirming like a child expecting discipline. Somehow. ]

To tell the truth, I'm not sure I ever thought about it in such a way. There's always one more thing that needs doing, that's all.

[ One more person to help. One more world to hold together. It's never over to the people who were in the eye of it.

Is it any wonder she refuses to give her illness succor? ]