"Personal cost for personal gain," sings Henry, tucking his hands behind his back. "And hey, it's not the same at all! Except for the end product. I wouldn't be doing dark magic if it was just the same old thing as anima, plus those nasty side effects. It feels waaay different." He pulls out his arms only to span them out over his head during his elongated vowel. "Didn't you know?"

Behind him, the memory continues: Plegian soldiers cry out, but one's voice stands out among the rabble: "Damn him! What the hell...?! I remember Mustafa's bootlicker being more docile, but now that he's passed... Why the hell's he become such a troublemaker?!" The onslaught of Henry's spells do not cease, however.