[Somehow, it's worse than what he had expected. Somehow - somehow he hadn't expected that, and he stops walking before Milla does. He doesn't see anything pathetic in what she's said, not at all, but he's in the exact same position she had imagined that she herself would be in. He doesn't know what to say. It hurts to hear, but what can he say? What can he say that would be good enough? "I'm sorry" absolutely doesn't cut it, even if it dances on the tip of his tongue reflexively. He wouldn't even know what to really be sorry for here. That this happened to her at all? That she existed in a way that forced her to view herself as an imitation? His leader is a counterfeit - some of his comrades are replicas - so he understands, at the very least, just what sort of impact something like that can have on a person. It must be even worse for a human, who isn't made of steel and fire. A human, who expects to be the only one, the only version of themselves.

And there's something about that-- about the other Milla just nodding that absolutely sets his blood on fire. A part of him thinks how dare she because that Milla is not the one he's come to know, and therefore is not the one who has his loyalty. His Milla was put into an awful situation and had to cast herself away, and the only acknowledgment she got was a nod? Bullshit.

His fists clench at his side, and he finally breaks his silence with a simple:]

You aren't. [But after a few seconds pass, he manages to scrounge up a few more words.]

...You aren't a coward. If something like that is your "duty", how could you be a coward at all? Wanting to live is natural, isn't it?