The sounds of brutal violence are nothing new to him, though he prefers not to take part in it. Fights should be ended quickly and cleanly if possible. He doesn't know where husks and machines go after this; perhaps oblivion. Perhaps an afterlife even further away. It's not something that concerns him, made as he is to stand apart from humans; the sanctity of the Waltzes and the destination of their immortal souls were not exactly a great priority for their makers.

Whatever is happening, it seems to be happening a great deal and with enthusiasm, which means he has a limited capacity to get involved if he doesn't want to risk a great deal of collateral damage.

Sometimes it's necessary, but he's trying hard to preserve what Minos loved. He, too, hopes that he was something Minos loved, but since he is not human...he can no longer know for sure. Perhaps even the tenderness shown to them in their nascent days was simply a reflection of love shown to children made by the hands of sinners, human blood passed down from parent to child like a blessing.

Then Gabriel in all his bloodied, violent glory throws a corpse into a machine practically right next to him and disrupts his thoughts completely.

Is that a fucking angel is what Vivi might have thought if he had it in him to swear, even in his thoughts. He flinches away from what might as well be the voice of God Itself, and when he's not immediately decapitated for existing, he dares to look out again.

At least the angel (the Angel, hums his core, what passes for blood in him, the signature familiar; the power vested in Him that had upended the world once upon a time) isn't trying to kill him.

"I'm not that much a baby," he says, a little childish indignation creeping into his voice as what Gabriel said catches up with him. "I'm nine."