Yo también fui soldado... [Perhaps talking to herself, in the moment, and then she's left with a thoughtful pause; the lights in the distance are pretty, and she considers them. No, she was not a soldier, she was a weapon. There is a difference, isn't there? Or is there not? Soldiers at least weren't patented. People loved them, surely, and they must have homes. She does not want to think of such terrible people in Transigen having warm homes and soft beds. And families.

Shouldn't she feel something? Shouldn't she feel bad for killing those men? But...

Because of what we can do.

It isn't lost on her; it makes her wary, interested, maybe distantly hopeful.]

... I was made by them, in special labs, with special bottles... Because of what my dad could do.

[She looks at him, expression smoothed of emotion.]

I was made to kill people.