“You’re not going to fight out there?” Domon Kasshu asked. “But with your knowledge and magic, you could probably at least put a dent in the fog forces! You’re a level 8 Magician! You could at least help them a lot out there! I’ve seen you accomplish so many great feats!”

“No. I don’t want to.” I said.

“And you’re okay with that!?!” He shouted. “You’re okay with not doing anything about it!?!”

“You can go fight out there if you want. I’m not stopping you or George de Sand from getting your hands dirty. I’m just not interested in personally getting out there. I might die too often, you see.” I replied. “I do have a limited number of 1ups, and this setting is something I have little to no metaknowlege of. It's true I am powerful, but who knows the limits of my power? You clearly don't.”

Domon gave me...a very hopeless look. A sad, heartbroken look. Like someone had just crushed everything precious to him in one blow. Then it was replaced with one of outrage. Anger, of course, is a secondary emotion. Anger is the emotion one goes to when they wish to cover up some form of hurt. It has a way of dulling the pain.

And I realized that he was very, very disappointed in me. I should have responded in a different way, I should have been fighting out there, but I just didn’t care for it. But that sad look...in some ways, it hurt me more than the angry look he gave me.

“FINE! I’ll go fight out there myself! I don’t need you by my side! You’d just slow me down anyway, in your poor excuse for a mobile suit!” He said, whipping around and stomping off. I felt slightly guilty, but what else was I going to do? I walked to my bedroom. Lewyn was waiting there, leaning on the side of the window overlooking the forest.

“He’s right, you know. There’s little to do here on land that would actually matter in this setting.” Lewyn said. “And you know that.”

I had nothing to say in response to that. No way to defend myself. Lewyn was entirely right.

“You’re changing, Nika. And not in a good way. I would understand if you just wanted a break, but you flat-out admitted that you didn’t really care to help. You need to do some serious thinking about your thought patterns and behavior.” He said.

I stared at my feet. He was right. But...how? Where should I even start?

I indeed, had to think about my morals and how I acted.