[Siebren does his best not to tense - he has opened the door, and here they are, and he will simply have to deal with whatever happens next-]
[But what happens next is...not what he expected: a comment not on physicality, but perseverance. Delivered by Wormmon, who is simple and straightforward and probably could not lie to save his life, and would likely question why there would be a need to lie, and-]
[It slips past his defenses, past parts of him carefully hidden from the outside world, and alights on something deep within him, shaking it loose.]
[He is scarred - not Sigma's scars, but his own, invisible to the eye, received when his life's work went horribly wrong and tore at his mind, formed when he slowly pieced it back together as best he could, and he is imperfect, and damaged, and-]
[People scar when something knocks them down and they get back up.]
[Alive.]
[He has survived. The worst is over - it must be over, he cannot imagine anything worse - and he is still here. He is broken - horribly, maybe irreparably so - but he is still standing. He has gotten back up.]
[And maybe...maybe there is something to be proud of, in that.]
[He had never thought of it in that way.]
[He blinks - a few times, a few more, a few too many - and closes his eyes, trying to steady his breathing and process this Wormmon-inspired paradigm shift. He takes a moment and opens his eyes again, seeking out Wormmon.]
...thank you.
[There is a waver in his voice, small but present nonetheless, that he does not like but cannot quite control; more evident is the gratitude in his tone. Evidently he had needed to hear that.]
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[But what happens next is...not what he expected: a comment not on physicality, but perseverance. Delivered by Wormmon, who is simple and straightforward and probably could not lie to save his life, and would likely question why there would be a need to lie, and-]
[It slips past his defenses, past parts of him carefully hidden from the outside world, and alights on something deep within him, shaking it loose.]
[He is scarred - not Sigma's scars, but his own, invisible to the eye, received when his life's work went horribly wrong and tore at his mind, formed when he slowly pieced it back together as best he could, and he is imperfect, and damaged, and-]
[People scar when something knocks them down and they get back up.]
[Alive.]
[He has survived. The worst is over - it must be over, he cannot imagine anything worse - and he is still here. He is broken - horribly, maybe irreparably so - but he is still standing. He has gotten back up.]
[And maybe...maybe there is something to be proud of, in that.]
[He had never thought of it in that way.]
[He blinks - a few times, a few more, a few too many - and closes his eyes, trying to steady his breathing and process this Wormmon-inspired paradigm shift. He takes a moment and opens his eyes again, seeking out Wormmon.]
...thank you.
[There is a waver in his voice, small but present nonetheless, that he does not like but cannot quite control; more evident is the gratitude in his tone. Evidently he had needed to hear that.]