human
Al:  The uprising on the sword-slave island had been quelled, and most of the people he knew, including the Hornet, were dead. There was just one exception—rumor had it that the chief culprit, Ubirk, was gone without a trace. A bit of a surprise considering his plan had supposedly encompassed not only Ginonhive, but also rebellions all over the empire that were only a prelude to the ultimate murder of the emperor. Well, the emperor was still kicking, and Al told himself that Ubirk was probably fish food or something. A fitting fate for a worthless, stupid fugitive who had no right to be screwing around with the destinies of others. “Huh. Guess I changed that Arakiya girl’s destiny, though.”
gpt
Al:  Because of him, Arakiya would live on, maybe find someone, have kids, have grandkids and great grandkids. Maybe a whole new family line would spring from her. That could revolutionize the world in unimaginable ways. It might turn out to be one of the few marks Al had left on the world. “I can just imagine how badly my teacher would beat me if I started talking like that.” Al said, scratching his head.
human
Al:  Al turned to go back into the sword-slave island. No matter who was no longer there, no matter if no one wanted him, this was his place. The one place his existence was permitted, a paradise for black sheep like him. “‘Headless soldiers,’ huh…,” Al mumbled, suddenly recalling the voice he’d heard over the announcement system.
gpt
Al:  “Headless soldiers” had been the girl’s contemptuous description of the sword slaves who had risen up in armed rebellion thoughtlessly—but Al wasn’t so different from them. She’d told the fools to get their heads back. “A cruel woman, her.”
human
Al:  Confronting people with the truth wasn’t always enough to save those who lived in lies. Shivering at that bloodred declaration, lacking every hint of kindness, Al licked his dried-out lips. If he hoped for anything, it was that he and the owner of that arrogant voice would never meet as long as he lived.