[ The monster -- who isn't a monster at all -- brings a bunch of her wings together, and Vash retches at the sight of her mutilated face. He'll never get the image of her in those jars out of his mind, and he'd thought that he'd never see anything as horrible ever again, not for the rest of his life. But here, seeing those fragments held up in the shape of a person, he's realizing how wrong he was. ]

I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I... [ He can't seem to catch his breath. ] I know... I know what they did to you, I'm sorry. [ His small fists punch the sand, grief and disgust and anger warring for control. ] They shouldn't have done that!