human
Scorching Lady:  "In the meantime, you may savor the anticipation of when and how that will be.”
gpt
Scorching Lady:  “Heh. It seems I’ve incurred quite a serious debt indeed.” The girl before her was so young and yet so lovely. The Scorching Lady could only swallow at the prospect of one day having to make good on this obligation. She let out a sigh.
human
Scorching Lady:  “Here, Aldeberan, take this.”
gpt
Al:  “I told you not to call me that.” The cuffs—purely for formality’s sake—were removed, and he was handed his liuyedao instead. The conversation was practically a ritual by now, but Al was sharing it not with that rare person on the sword-slave island whom he had permitted into his heart, but rather with the sour guard who had replaced the dead man. He still missed the deceased Orlan sometimes. Maybe part of his motivation for taking on the Hornet had been some measure of revenge, trying to make up for what had happened.
human
Al:  “Heh. Yeah, right… The assassination attempt on the emperor failed, we got a whole bunch of new faces on the island, and life here goes on as usual. Not a lot of difference in the grand scheme of things.” Everything changed; nothing lasted. Not Ubirk’s sedition, not the Hornet’s evil, not the sword slaves’ fervent wishes, nor Arakiya’s loyalty, nor Orbart’s cunning. Not even Orlan’s death. Everything would fade in time. The ants could wail and cry, but they couldn’t stop the river’s flow. The rebellion on the island had brought this realization home to Al.