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Ah, Cid, my boy... You are late.
There is something I always meant to tell you, yet the time never seemed right. It concerns your father.
...What of him?
In the winter of his years, Midas came to abhor his part in Meteor. He told me that he wanted nothing more than to wash his hands of the whole sordid business.
But he did not wash his hands of it. He helmed the project until the day it killed him!
Come now, Cid...you must know that he did not have the luxury of choice. By the time he realized his error, it was too late. Meteor had him completely in its thrall.
Shortly before his...transformation, mayhap sensing that something was amiss, your father confided to me all the regrets of his life. Most of them concerned you.
Early on in your career, he realized that while you had a talent for devising armaments, it would never fulfill you. Long before you knew your own mind, he saw that you would be far happier using your knowledge for peaceful purposes, and the thought touched him.