[ Even if the weightiness is a change for the worse in the tone of their conversation, Lacus can't help but feel glad for it. He's meeting her head-on with his disagreement, and if he's doing as much then there's value in speaking at all.

Her fingers dig into her skirt as she keeps speaking. ]

There are no easy answers. We've agreed on as much, haven't we?

I can't offer absolutes. The idea of peace I hold in my heart is an imperfect paradox - a world in which you are free to strive towards your desired future is a world that allows you to keep seeking destruction. What happens to the world then? Or what must happen to you for such a world to exist?

I don't have the answers. In my efforts towards peace, I have left dead bodies behind. Those who have passed away can no longer enjoy peace, even if we should succeed in establishing it.

But does that mean there is no value in existence? Does that mean that every struggle the world has gone through was meaningless? Does the impossibility of a perfect future negate the efforts of reaching for it and improving bit by bit?