gpt
Ferris:  "…I still could have saved him!" They had left the audience chamber and were somewhere in the halls of the Crystal Palace. Ferris was whispering to himself, his face dark and downcast.
human
Julius:  "Ferris…"
gpt
Ferris:  "If they hadn’t stopped me, I could have saved him… It just doesn’t make any sense." His slim shoulders were shaking, his voice thick with frustration. The depth of his shame was unmistakable, and Julius discovered he could find no words to offer. Ferris was speaking out of his pride as a healer, as one who supported life. Any attempt at comfort that Julius might’ve made would have seemed glib in the face of that. He was still searching for something to say when—
human
Guide:  "I’m sure it must’ve been quite a surprise for visitors from abroad." He was taken aback by the interjection of their guide, who glanced over at them. “”
gpt
Action:  For a moment, Julius said nothing, content to mull over the words of the imperial soldier who’d spoken to them. He had encountered more than a few of this country’s troops since crossing the border, and none of them were like their guide. Maybe it came down to the warlike character that radiated from most of the empire’s soldiers, but curiously didn’t from the man in front of them. This difference in disposition seemed to also be reflected in the man’s unique appearance. Volakian troops were usually covered from head to toe in iron and steel equipment, as if to boldly announce they were powerful soldiers. This man was conspicuous for his exposed and visible face. He was tall, with his gray-brown hair brushed back behind his head.