[The samurai looks upwards, his eyes closing gently. It's difficult to tell his the mask hiding his mouth, but it looks like relief.]

Yes, exactly. I have no control. It's meant to be this way, you see? What you call control is my restraint. My life is never in my hands; my fingers may brush against it, but to seize it means to burn the gift my master has given me. I must unleash all I am capable of, at every instant, in all directions.

Such a twisted philosophy... a samurai must serve, but this is insanity...