[For one long moment, Mitsuhide stares. His mouth opens and closes again; he inhales, exhales... and then sinks to the floor, back finding the cave wall. The hand he has clasping the torch is very obviously shaking.]

[The samurai remembers Yamazaki very clearly, though certain things stick out more than others. Rain, yes, and mud. The cries of the enemy at the defeat of Motochika. Blood on Motochika's clothing, blood on Mitsuhide's hands as he kneeled at his friend's side and took him into his arms, willing him to survive. That will failing him, unable to give life back to the dead.]

[The tossing aside of his own name and title.]

I lost that battle. Hideyoshi won. He...

[Mitsuhide bites his lip briefly, and looks up at Gracia.]

Kuroda Kanbei's attack stopped Lord Motochika. It... it ended up silencing him. I couldn't bear to go on without him at my side.

[His gaze drops. For a long, long moment, Mitsuhide is silent, lost in thought. This is too much to take in all at once. Too many emotions fill his chest; they make it hard to breath evenly. When he finally finds his voice again, it is quiet; barely more than a whisper.]

You speak of a world I do not know. I am sorry, I am more sorry than you can know, but I am not the same man who raised you. I don't understand what is going on here, my Lady, nor can I possibly guess at what kind of magic is causing everything.

[Mitsuhide's eyes close.]

Forgive me... right now, I do not know what to do.