[The speaker's voice is laced with a bit of annoyance, but much stronger than that is weariness. The rustling of trees' leaves being blown in the wind can be heard in the background.]
This must be a joke. Nothing but a cruel, extremely unusual joke from a being with a sadistic sense of humor. I am well acquainted with the fun of irony at this
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No way...
[He paused briefly before continuing.]
Cid, is that you?
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[There has to be more to story. It just had to be.]
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That's exactly why I think there's more to this story than you're willin' to say.
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The nerve of this bastard! Not only does he show no remorse for what he's done, he goes as far as to say something like that to him? Did Cid have any idea how many men died during that siege? The entire Cavalry was wiped out, Rygdea included. How can he just stand there and state so calmly that none of this concerns him, and the men he led right towards death's door?
Taking a quick step back, Rygdea didn't hesitate anymore. He ushered his fist forward, right towards Cid's jaw. Rygdea knew he couldn't contain his anger anymore, Cid was just pushing all the wrong buttons.]
The hell it isn't! You sold us out, Cid, and for what? You can't even look me the eye right now!
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Are you done with this childish behavior yet? I've answered you already.
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[He was quickly growing exasperated with this little argument.]
Do you think I am happy to be the cause of the destruction of my own division? To have so many lives lost so needlessly? For me to go down in the minds of people as a traitor when that was never my intention?
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A minute ago, you acted as if you couldn't have cared less about the damn division, and now you're over here throwing a fuckin' tantrum because I want answers.
[Rygdea sighed a she stalked away from Cid.]
I don't want anymore lies or half-truths. If Sanctum set you up like you said, then why? They didn't know about our plans. They couldn't have unless someone squealed.
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Apparently, Dysley knew all along. No one told him, he simply knew. He is far more powerful than any of us imagined.
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...What do you mean by that?
[He knew he was onto something now.]
Dysley is nothing more than another poor sap who's a slave to the fal'Cie. He hides behind PSICOM, his glorified killers, for the sake maintaining hold over the public.
Take away both the fal'Cie and PSICOM from him, and he's nothing more than a feeble old fart.
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[This, he figures he can at least tell Rygdea.]
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Whoa, wait! You mean to tell me that Galenth Dysley was a fal'Cie as well?
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Barthandelus, eh? How could a fal'Cie...
[He felt sick to his stomach now.]
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