[Normally Bertholdt’s jump might make her feel bad; not right now. She’s not mad at him (but she is), it’s what he’s saying (but he’s saying it), and if he didn’t actually move—]

[Well. He does. And it’s no rush, but it sounds like it should work, and it doesn’t, and Bertholdt’s being so callous but it’s not his fault he’s a ghost, of course he was defeated before he got here—]

[Aubrey looks like she’s still fuming. Her hands are tense, still hovered over Armin, but—useless. As far as she’s concerned he started dying when she wasn’t paying attention, and it makes her want to jump off the roof.]

I’m not giving up. [Hands ball into fists, dropping hard on the tile. What, does she have to punch him? It’d feel like desecrating a corpse. He just got his arm gouged open, for god’s sake.] I’m not, I am not giving up on him.

[Back to Bertholdt; furious, desperate.] If he’s an illusion then he’s yours. Why is he like this to you?