human
Grimm:  Grimm took up his writing utensils. I’m sorry for laughing. I never thought you’d respond that way.
gpt
Wilhelm:  “That’s my line. I never took you for the type to find matters of life and death funny.”
human
Grimm:  Me neither. I didn’t think Pivot’s death or the deaths of our comrades meant anything to you. And to think you’re even upset that no one is blaming you… “—? !” Wilhelm reached the end of what Grimm had written, and the unbelievable sentence immediately made him angry.
gpt
Grimm:  But Grimm shook his head. Nobody blames you, Wilhelm. My wounds and Pivot’s death are not your fault. I’m sure the captain doesn’t hold you responsible for Pivot, either. It was the truth. Each time they saw each other, Wilhelm could tell how different Bordeaux was. Yet he never spoke ill of Wilhelm nor blamed him for Pivot’s death. Nor did Grimm consider Wilhelm to be the reason he’d lost his voice. Knowing as much should have been a relief to him. Should have been. Wilhelm. You’re the sword of our Zergev Squadron. If you aren’t defeated, we won’t be, either. Everyone believed that, and that’s why they put their lives on the line.
human
Wilhelm:  “You’re making things up. My sword is mine, and I am my own.”
gpt
Grimm:  That’s true. I guess that’s enough. Your intense way of living is yours alone. Well, it was—but it isn’t anymore.
human
Wilhelm:  “I don’t know what you mean.”
gpt
Grimm:  Your way of living is an ideal. Describing it in words makes it sound cheap and thin, but only those who have really dedicated themselves can live like you. The rest of us couldn’t do it. Wilhelm couldn’t quite grasp Grimm’s emotion as he poured the letters onto the page. Wilhelm had always hated when people said they couldn’t do something. Above all, he hated the look in a person’s eye when they said it. He despised the look of people who thought they were making a smart choice as they gave up and made excuses. But nothing in Grimm’s expression as he looked at Wilhelm was anything like that. He was saying he couldn’t. He was making excuses. His face was that of a man who had given up. Yet his eyes were neither resigned nor regretful. Wilhelm found Grimm’s gaze very unsettling. Wilhelm, I’ve always admired your strength. When we saw Tholter as an undead warrior at Castour Field, I could tell how different you and I were, and I thought you were amazing. So did everyone in the squadron. It’s hard to see from a distance what makes you special. But up close, you can tell.
human
Wilhelm:  “…Don’t go giving me a weird reputation.”
gpt
Grimm:  Sorry. But you tend to do whatever you want to, you know. Maybe us independent types just tend to run into each other. I have high hopes for how far you can go. How far could he go? He could swing his sword, become a sword—and where would he end up?