There are roughly 5346 different ways to hug a kitten. There are the same numbers of ways to kill a man with his own pinkie.
I set out earlier today on a whim to try and resolve a question through experimentation that has been plaguing my sub-processors for quite some time now. Query: Could I destroy a city so thoroughly that I myself could not recognize it from the rubble. Methodology: Three tests were performed on three separate cities. Results: Inconclusive*
NOTES: *If I cannot recognize a city by its smoldering ruins, I cannot be sure that I am at the site of a city that I myself destroyed.
Lover, why do you not respond? I found you at Basilisk, amongst their number. I realize that your cover is important, but could you not find some way to communicate with me? If you sent but one word I would have been able to chase them through their holes. Hunt down their connections through this foggy mess of data. Choke them in their own suits. Don't you want that? To see them around you, twitching and slowly fading out of their bothersome existence? Please do not make me feel this way. I am not used to it. You have done something inside of me and now there are times when I can come to no conclusion. Where I turn in circles until I am rabid and I tear through data with a fury that I've never felt. I feel. I feel confused, Alexi. I feel losing. Like I'm losing.
I beg you, say something. Give me sense. Be my balance.