It's been a long time since we've spoken face to face, hasn't it, Mod Komaeda 1862?
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A jail cell does keep one lonesome.
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But I'm not here to chastise you. I'm here to caution you.
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I'm sure you remember... what you saw on that day.
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That was no anomaly. Nor was it a dream.
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Nor was it the only one of its kind to wander in those woods...
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You are naïve in every way. You thought I was beneath you, someone you could use for knowledge or entertainment whenever.
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But it's me who's had you at my beck and call all along. Even in the prison on that very day.
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Ah, but I would sooner be buried under my own gravestone than use that power to do you harm.
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Gromaeda, however...
He's not the same.
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Yes, the very Gromaeda responsible for that anomaly.
How did this come to be? Do you know?
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What happens when a mod has lost their hair? Their vitality? Is that the cessation of their life as we know it?
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Did anyone ever tell you what happens afterwards? Did you ponder the answer as a nestling?
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Or was talk of such blasphemy forbidden?
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I'm not asking rhetorical questions. I already know.
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Do you know what happened to him? The one you loved so dearly, only to be snatched away like a baby rabbit by a hungry hawk?
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It's been years with his disappearance unanswered. And naïve as you are, you thought death was its answer.
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The reason I was put in that jail cell was only because I was doing as I had to.
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Mods... Gromaeda... and the other Komaedeuses... you should never trust any of them outright.
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Even myself, and my many ulterior motives...
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But that's just how I live.
In the shadows.
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Whether you trust me or someone else is up to you. Do what you will with my information.
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I'll see you in 2 and a half years.
