Zechs' expression was soft, wounded, exhausted. Once again, mere moments before sleep, his calm mask had vanished. All of this was what lay beneath, what few people ever saw of him. What Hakuba might only see this once, and never again. But who knew what the future would hold?

"You will never decide it is worth the death of millions, perhaps billions, for a single ideal," Zechs murmured, hanging on to the last few fragments of his consciousness. His voice was tired, but not from the potion. "You will not sacrifice your humanity, as I had."

"And ... Ty- ... Tyki," he said in a whisper, "we shared a moment of kinship. A connection ... "

If Hakuba replied to his cryptic statements, Zechs wouldn't had heard him. He was finally asleep, having succumbed to the potion at last.