"You've seen them," he says. "It was an accident. I was so tired. We were all so tired. It's my fault. My mistake. A shortcut, to make it go faster. I'm sorry. I don't deserve forgiveness, but I don't want to fall. I don't."
You look around the area for something like a rope that could help you. There's nothing.
When you face him again, there's a scar running down his face. There are scars on his arms and hands. Deep ones. Fresh ones that haven't healed. Like something once tore him apart.
"Help me. Let me feel what it's like to live inside your body. Just briefly, just for a moment or two. I don't remember what it's like to live in a body that hasn't hurt so many people. I can help you too. I worked in hard conditions, but kept my friends' spirits up. I knew exactly what to say to keep them going. I can help you do that too, with your friends."