"You're that desperate to die, huh?" Aito asked.
"Wouldn't you do the same if you've spent hundreds, or possibly a thousand years imprisoned in this place? Waiting for the Tower System to call you outside, and use you to play the part of a monstrous beast? An ancestor to fake orcs.
"Do you know how much it pains me to appear in that accursed desert, seeing the faces of copies. Of my dead kins. Every time. Every time I come back into my soul realm after that little outing, this desolate place reminds me of one thing. The truth.
"My people are no more. Dead, all of them. And I can't remember why or how. All I know is that the gods played a part in it. I have this uncontrollable urge to kill them, but I am confined in this place where I cannot even control how I die. I'm only a puppet who has power over nothing.
"So tell me, human warrior. Wouldn't you be desperate to finally put an end to your torment were you in my place?"
