Fool.

He thinks he can lock me away like some caged animal and make the world safe. Doesn't he know by now that I am not something that can be contained through ordinary mortal forces? I'm a plant, godlike to those puerile pieces of garbage whose filth cannot be tolerated any longer. He should have killed me when he had the chance, at the climax, instead of wrapping me up and nursing me back to health like a baby bird. Dead, he could be rid of me. But, left alive, I will not rest until humanity is eliminated, and even my own brother will not be able to prevent the endgame. Humanity calls out for Armaggedeon, and I'm only to happy to clean up the garbage.

In the heat of the battle, I came to realize that he'll never see the world like I do. He's been ruined completely by that wretch of a human, Rem Saverem, and there's no undoing the psychological scars. He's of no use to me now, and sooner or later I'll have to kill him to reach my goals. Extermination of the spiders: one butterfly casualty is not too much to ask to achieve it.

So I lay here, healing, and biding my time. He comes to me with his false bravado and his cheerful smile and brings food and medicine. He introduces me to those worthless human females who he allows to tail him; he calls them friends! I call them the walking dead, for as soon as I'm strong enough they'll be gone. But, first, eliminate Vash and all real opposition. Humanity can wait just a little while longer.

Just try to reform me, brother. Heal my wounds. And after you have eased this pain, I will ease yours. Permanently.