She hadn't left during their yet inconclusive 'date.' She was, after all, patient. Even so, if what Koishi said was true...but David had worked so hard on it. And it did protect him, or was supposed to. No one, to his knowledge, had tried to beguile his mind. Then again, thanks to the shield, he may never know of any such attack, being invincible to it. And yet Satori's life was on the line. Should he keep it, knowing that its loss may give him even slightly better odds at saving her?

He frowned at Koishi's explanation of trauma. Seems the old tale of enmity between their races was very old indeed. It surprised him, a little. She had always seemed to Ted so stoic and invincible. That, partly, was why he called her "Strength." To know that she was bound by fear and want of security showed him an incongruous vulnerability. Again, it hardly made sense. She had chosen the position of Guardian, being that wary of others? Positioned herself as a bastion of safety, herself so covetous of it? Satori believed she had control or safety. Only in a cold, confined, and dead world could that possibly be true. All the security of the coffin.

In that moment, Ted grew to hate kindness a little more. Or at least its inflamed tyranny over and above the other virtues. It always seemed to be hurting people, in ways deeper than the drowsy benevolence it offered. What a mewling, simpering enemy! To fight against it was to paint oneself a cruel brute. But if he didn't, Ted didn't know who would. Very well. Might as well be frank.

"...I want to. She'll die in there, Koishi. And I would rather she suffer than be happy in contemptible, estranging ways."