[N listens, but he doesn't look at Thomas. Instead, he has his head lowered, and is looking at nothing but the bits of clay around his feet. Blown apart mercilessly. He heard its scream. Thomas may be correct-- they didn't purposefully do anything to this world. But that didn't make the Pokemon evil by any means. N was wrong; Thomas doesn't understand. How could he?
When N speaks again, he doesn't sound angry anymore. He just sounds weary.] They are good... All they want is to protect... We are outsiders here-- they think we're threats to the natural balance. [He looks up.] And perhaps we are. Maybe we're more dangerous than they ever could have imagined.

[His eyes wander to the gun, and a few tears roll down his face.] ... I-I made a mistake. [A pause.] Put the gun down, Thomas. Stop this. No more killing. Please...