All language subtitles for (Foreign.Only).She.Is.Conann.2p.x264.AAC5.1-[YTS.MX]

What a privilege to be dead.

How so, dead?

This is not working.
I need to feel your suffering.

Do not scream. Do not scream.

Pain does not exist here.

Only dirty memories.

You have to be spectacular.

You have to look presentable before the queen.

The queen?

Conann.

You don't know Conann the barbarian?

No?

You surprise me.

Bring me a Cuba libre.

As we have unlimited time,

and if you wish, of course,

I will guide you.

You must pay.

- Leave me alone! Later.
- You need to pay!

All things considered, you seem ripe.

This is it.

Thank you, girls!

Your work is outstanding.

Music!

But why are we here?

To witness barbarity.

May the show begin!

Amoral and tasteful.

Here is Conann,

the queen.

For you, she will dive into the river of regrets.

Conann? Do you hear me?

Will you take the great leap of memory?

Risk your title of the queen of barbarity?

Yes.

If you have a human

more harmful and cruel than I.

To her, I will yield my throne.

We have a serious candidate here, Conann!

A serious candidate.

- I've forgotten everything.
- It's nothing.

It will all come back.

But to begin, the heart lost

in another time,

when barbarity reigned, in its purest state.

Remember, Conann.

I was born of a mother, a healer,

and a father, unknown.

In a dark and brutal age,

demons and wonders were thought to be real,

my mother gave me all her love to compensate.

The barbarians are here.

Close.

Are you scared?

Who has never seen a barbarian cannot know.

They flay those who come near,

kill those they touch.

The barbarians do not scare me.

Fate had pushed us into the belly of barbarity,

unto its distressed and howling lands.

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This is where you saw me for the first time.

I, who was to change the course of your life.

What is this, then?

My ill daughter! She has only me.

Does the sickly little horror have a name?

Conann.
My name is Conann!

Conann?
A mighty name for such a tiny body.

Ready, Rainer?

My flash is beating like a heart on fire!

A demon. I was sure!

No, a witness, Madam.

Death will devour life.

My mother screamed to make her soul take flight.

Sorrow, the worm that on beauty gnaws.

Smile, beautiful.

Mom, I am the one who bleeds.

Do you want to live?

Eat your mother.

Eat your mother!

Otherwise you'll die just like her.

My mother abandoned me
into the arms of vengeance.

And you know what?

I wanted to live.

To get revenge.

For that reason alone.

Mommy!

Fate.

A rope that can be seized to hang oneself,

or climb upwards.

My back had become a cross of pain

and anger.

Less than a beast.

Less than a corpse.

An automated body.

A removed spectator of commonplace barbarity.

I became schooled in the art of combat.

And the art of swallowing one's revenge.

What are you looking at?

Death making life blush.

Drink, if you want to survive.

Before I cover myself with your blood.

Who is the hook? Who is the fish?

I bet my right eye
she'll die of exhaustion before winter.

You've made a knot in the rope of fate,

you can't untie it anymore.

You're right, Sanja.

She won't make it through the winter,
or even the night.

Do what you have to do.

I've had enough of Rainer's pathetic oracles.

And so, with your permission of course,

I'll set the rules.

Rainer had given me an opportunity.

It was up to me to seize it, to not let go.

Love and death are blind in this lowly world.

Conann grasped her first victory

like a bouquet of brambles.

She'll die tomorrow. Her eyes open wide.

Sorrow calls for sleep.

Lock her up!

We must have a cage?

I have one. Small but secure.

That night it rained.

And I regained hope.

Conann,

tell me.

Did you like to kill?

Yes.

Good, that's good.

I had lost faith in the prophecies.

You will become the most barbaric of the barbarians,

and Sanja will die by your vengeful hand.

Even though I still mistrusted Rainer,

I knew he was my key.

And, for whatever reason,

I envied Rainer.

You envied me, Conann?

Yes, I envied you, vile dog.

Her body was

unbelievably soft.

Do you remember her body, dear?

Shut up.

But her heart,

on that night,

was elsewhere.

Sanja left the camp

in the middle of the night,

without a noise.

Every month, when she bleeds,

Sanja enters the spirit world

to meet with the one she loves, to give her drink.

No one knows Sanja's secret love.

So what?

So, would you like to see the future?

Just a little?

What's the point?

Come, now. You doubt?

I don't trust you.

Conann! Bring us drink!

Do you know the plant that grows against your cage?

My mother told me never to touch it.

Perhaps the time has come to disobey your mother, Conann.

It's unbelievable how she grasps on to life.

It's life that grasps her.

The maternal poison was working.

A technicolor spectacle.

You want me to glorify your victory?

Conann was ripe.

I felt liberated.

I felt weightless.

I felt immortal.

And barbaric.

With me, you've reached the height of success, dear.

With 00:22:18,262
- I don't trust you: - Fancy that.

- I owe you my life, that's all.
- More than that.

I will prove my trustworthiness to you.

How so?

Do you want to see the future?

It will be nothing but pleasure.

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Hey, Conann.

Do you know who I am?

No.

I'm you.

You at 25.

Look how handsome and tall you'll become.

Embrace yourself.

What are you waiting for? Embrace your future.

You want to become me faster?

Yes.

I had not imagined the future like this.

I did not see the time pass.

The little caterpillar was becoming a butterfly.

I saw my 15-year-old body as a moult, nothing more.

What a sense of theatre!

You were able to grow without pain. I congratulate you, Conann.

I still don't trust you.

Look at your youth. Feverish and dirty.

I prefer you like this, more to my taste..

Paws off.

I kill shamelessly now, understand?

I see you've decided to take charge of your future,

and right you are.

I'd just like to take a few pictures of you among the corpses

with your moult as a souvenir.

- You're sick, Rainer.
You owe me at least this.

You're sick,

but I like it.

Yes that's good. Tears.

Tears. Revenge. And sex.

I was to pose for him.

In exchange, he had decided to lead me to Sanja.

I felt obliged.

I felt desired.

Apart my vengeance, I had no other perspectives.

Do you remember, Conann, when you turned 25?

Look how moved she is.

Authentic tears.

Barbaric tears.

Not for those she massacred,

but for her own little self.

She's going to jump.

If there is someone here worse than she.

Rainer!

What does Sanja do in the spirit world?

What does she do in the spirit world?

She meets her secret love.

I already told you.

A corpse?

I can't know everything.

Hold your arms out

and look at me.

I thought you were going to help me.

Here, I can only be your guide.

Conann.

Rainer!

You've just crossed paths with your childhood.

Believe me, barbarism was already on your mind.

You're lying.

He wasn't lying.

The lake of lost years

bordered the hall of time.

Places full of dirty memories,

of troubled futures

and present times unclear.

I have a feeling of deja-vu.

This is your world, Conann. Enclosed and foggy.

There she is.
The one you want to kill.

I want to hurt her myself.

Not a word.

Let me handle this.

When the Barbadian was of metal,

her thirst mounting,

she asked hell to birth the machine.

In exchange, the Barbarian was to feed the machines

of her own flesh.

Flesh is an overripe fruit.

Flesh is a fruit that falls and splatters

on shiny ground...

Who is she?

A half-sister. She's harmless.

...carapaces of voracious insects.

Flesh is a sad song.

Once the Barbarian had tasted the metal,

her thirst mounting,

she needed to feed the machines of her own flesh.

Life is an undulating serpent.

Under the blazing sun of the metal,

Life..

is a fruit that falls and splatters

on shiny ground.

Its flesh released

by the birds' protruding beaks

and carapaces of voracious insects.

Life is a sad song.

Thirst is the origin of all.

once the Barbarian tasted metal,

her thirst mounting,

she asked hell to birth the machine.

In exchange, the Barbarian was to feed the machines

of her own flesh.

Life is an undulating serpent.

Under the blazing sun of the metal,

Life...

is a fruit that falls and splatters on shiny ground.

Its flesh released by the birds' protruding beaks

and carapaces of voracious insects.

You're ruining the show.

Stop!

Time stood still, but not my mind.

You're ruining the show.

But who have we here?

Rainer, my bastard brother.

You've always had style, Olympia.

I do admire you.

Rainer.

Valet of lifeless flesh.

Romantic of the macabre.

Have you seen my new recruit?

You'll never be what you think you are, Rainer.

You soil what you see.

You are enraptured by the vilest human horrors.

Death,

mightier than flesh.

Flesh,

deader than love.

What?

Are you leaving?

Love is about to surface.

You will see!

I listened, unable to watch.

I felt, unable to speak.

Rainer, unwillingly, revealed himself.

He was a susceptible demon, so very...

romantic.

Very romantic, yes.

Here's what happens next.

You'll be the first to die.

It's impossible to kill me.

am you in ten years, Conann.

I'm your future.

One does not kill one's future.

Liar.

You should listen to me. I'll save you time.

Rainer, help me.

Take your revenge.
It's no longer my problem.

I've had enough of this.

The little horror has grown.

The big horror will soon be ready.

My past refuses to believe me.

Who refuses to embrace the enemy can claim no revenge.

Did you know that, poisoner?

Shut up.

Embrace her.

Or you'll never know love.

Embrace her?

You're afraid

of a wretched warrior?

Battered and disarmed?

Embrace.

You'll see differently.

You will assault the sun.

It will scorch your skin.

Your love for Sanja will be incandescent.

You will nourish her groin.

We will fall madly in love.

Kill me, my love.

Get it over with.

Now you've seen. Now you know.

So choose.

My past.

Your vengeance is bad luck.

Conann, my love.

Your love for Sanja

is blinding.

I swallowed my fate.

I swallowed my revenge.

I swallowed Sanja.

If love is brutal with you,

be brutal in return.

I prefer you mature and perverse than young and cruel.

I did not see this decade pass.

I'm tired of this life and this world, Rainer.

Let us live our love far from all of this.

Even if we die sooner.

A different life, a different era?

For that you must accept to lose your memory

and sell your soul

for the worst of all damnations.

Rainer is cruel, he gives nothing for free.

At 35, I wanted to take my destiny in hand.

I wanted an out.

And what a destiny it was.

A destiny of forgotten memories.

Love, beauty and power will remain.

Lost, the memory of what your are.

You'll embrace death every day, unaware.

Yes.

Let's get it over.

Let's say 1998.

A good year. The Bronx.

Sign here.

As a bonus,

you can keep lacrima erotica.

Forget me.

Forget everything,

but your love and your armour.

Blessed are the necrophiliacs.

Never betrayed by their love.

You are repulsive.

Your morals are not what they were.

What followed
were the most beautiful years of my life.

A stuntwoman, I embraced death.

I embraced Sanja.

It was a happy time.

I don't know how long it lasted.

But I do know I was never happier than when I was amnesiac,

a stuntwoman, and in love.

But there you have it.
All good things come to an end.

They had forgotten about death.

I had come back at the right moment...

to fan the flames of betrayal.

I was recovering quickly.

Too quickly.

Of course,

Rainer the romantic had thought this up.

For my pleasure.

For our pleasure, Conann.

My heart was no longer beating.

I hadn't even noticed.

He explained everything.

The pact.

Barbarism.

Death.

Take her instead.

What?

Take Sanja and let me live.

I promise to fill the afterlife with cadavers,

I will be the valve of death.

Have you recovered your memory, Conann?

Call it what you like.

I want to live.

Even if it means killing love.

Very well.

Every contract can be renegotiated.

Get dressed and grab your sword.

I recovered my memory,

my barbaric heart beat again.

Stronger than love.

My heart beat to rally death.

Like that.

Looking sad.

Rainer, what did you do?

You wanted her to die instead. I did the necessary.

Sanja is now a martyr of love.

Her endless agony will allow for your farewells.

Rainer, don't just stand there!

Finish her off, you hear me?

Rainer!

Finish her off.

Why did you not just ask me to die for you?

Forgive me.

Why not just ask me?

I would have done it for you.

You are the only one

that I ever loved.

Forgive me.

Forgive me, my love.

Forgive me.

It's forgiven.

I would have done anything to go back in time

and choose another path.

Forgive me, my love.

An apology?

A bit of dignity, some composure.

Come on, Old Lady.

Let's get it over with.

I moved on,

without flowers and uncrowned.

From bad to worse, Conann.

No emotion at all.

The last of my tears remain in my young head.

No need to cry anymore, the future is yours, dear.

Approach, Rainer, so I can widen your chops.

Something tells me

we're going to take a break.

As time passes, masks fall.

Things change.

Conann was becoming a demon, and I, barbaric.

It's a miracle.

I'm now a barbarian.

Laugh, what follows will shock you.

A damned soul,

Conann became a powerful military officer, her heart as dry as a desert.

My worst phase.

The dirtiest.

Your harshest period, Conann.

Harsh and devastating.

What do you see?

Bodies. Ruins.

Blood flowing.

Deja-vu.

Stop, you're turning me on.

What's that?

- Old Europe.
- I'd never seen it.

Europe is beautiful.

- Cut the bullshit. - She has style.

A bit old-fashioned, but still.

Fucking Europe.

Always proud marching around battlefields.

Playing the innocent, the virtuous, the cerebral.

You've killed Europe.

You can't do that.

All is possible when you're armed and heartless,

my sister.

I understood that wearing a uniform in Europe

would allow me to reach the heights of power.

Look at them.

Bankers, politicians,

computer programmers, scientists.

Look at how happy they are to swim in blood,

watching us barbarians,

shameless and unscrupulous, do the dirty work.

The banker.

You know, he likes me to piss on him.

To be expected.

He spends his holidays on Piss Island.

Mister Clean of finance, he loves it.

And the scientist, where does he go?

China.

To feast on bats and hairless youth.

And the traders, the programmers?

Far from the pollution,

in the pure mountain air,

no nitrates or electromagnetic waves,

they eat organic and sodomize the animals.

You make me laugh.

And where do you spend your vacation, Conann?

In your groin.

In the groin of all those who blindly obey me.

From time to time, I would call Conann,

as a friendly reminder of my existence.

Conann.

You killed them all.
Who will support us? Finance us?

The new generation.

It's waiting outside the door. Did you not hear it knock?

When I hold the blades like this it balances me.

I feel like my body was made

to grip blades.

Look.

Look at the dexterity with which I move.

Do you see?

I am one with the blades.

They speak to me.

They say:

"Feed us, my love, we hunger for flesh."

That's what they say.
The brave little ones are hungry.

Can't you see they're hungry?

My shoulder. Shit!

- Calm down.
- You're crazy.

Shouting is useless.

This second blade will lodge deep in your throat in 40 seconds.

Stop.

I am certain blades were invented for me.

I am certain of it.

I beg of you.

You Want to know?

Why l'm going to kill you?

Let me tell you.

Out of Io...

love!

I couldn't help myself, you see?

I was the vengeful hand of hell.

I was the vengeful hand of hell.

And hell repaid me in the way it could,

embracing me in its thick, yellow air.

Even dead life this, I find you beautiful.

More beautiful dead than alive.

I sincerely believe that, Himla.

Increasingly alone, from what I see.

Yes.

Alone and proud of it.

Do you want to see my work?

Conann had dug a huge grave,

full of suffering and misery.

Nothing obliges you to kill everyone.

You can also keep a few alive for your own pleasure.

I kill everything that gets attached to me.

And I await, weapon in hand, my worst enemy.

You, Conann, an enemy

Who frightens you so?

My old age.

More cruel

and underhanded than I.

The next Conann is here.

She prowls,

ready to take my place.

Every passing year,

feel her drawing nearer.

She won't kill you if you accept to age.

In any case, you are immortal.

A striptease

- For me?
- Idiot!

The pain is back.

Even immortal, you can suffer infinitely.

Disease eats away at me!

Right away the drama, such vocabulary.

Finally, Conann, you're becoming an angel of history.

You have been promoted.

You're becoming an angel of history.

No photographs this time.

Memory will take care of the images.

You lied to me, Rainer. I'm dying.

But you're not dead.

You'll carry on living in the flesh of your future body.

Nothing disgusted me more than who I had become.

Killing one's youth is the pinnacle of barbarism.

Conann soared over the agonizing world

with panache and maturity.

I had it all. The world at my feet.

I was free from want.

But Conann was tired.

She wanted to finish her life on earth.

I wanted to become a patron,

a friend of the artists.

Become a work of art.

A work of art.

I'm cold.

I want to go home.

I kept you warm, Conann.

We had become inseparable.

Together, we watched the world fall apart

and time go by.

I'm tired of shedding skin.

It's time to move on, Rainer.

You've made up your mind?

Yes.

I don't understand you.

You're too human, Rainer.

It's your tragedy.

Or not enough, undoubtedly.

Madam? Your guests have arrived.

Have them come in, Octavia.

Ex-Turil 21,

architect-sculptor.

Uma Porn,

visual artist-graphic novelist.

Colico Flux, poet-performer.

Zuricha Demain,

multimedia director.

Diana Darck,

witch-dancer.

Ultra Lux,

musician-activist.

Please turn off all screens and cell phones.

No pictures-or videos may be taken, no recordings may be made.

Please.

Thank you,

for joining' me.

You all know me.

And you know I value your work.

This is a very special evening.

For in a few moments, I will enter the kitchen,

where a doctor will execute me, before a bailiff.

- Is this a joke?
- Listen to her, please.

I will be painlessly anesthetized.

Once I have been killed, two renowned chefs

will cut me up and prepare me with the bailiff still present.

But Conann, you have it all.

Conann, you're magnificent, rich,

still young.

Precisely, I want to end it with dignity.

No interruptions please

Viruses, wars and the economy have made you precarious,

fragile.

You, the artists.

The pure.

I have chosen you for your commitment and inspiration.

I know that you are in need,

and I have decided
to have you inherit my entire fortune.

But upon one condition.

That you devour my prepped and cooked cadaver in its entirety.

You are free to refuse my fortune or eat me.

Silence! Conann speaks.

I will be the compost that nourishes and lives in you, artists,

in your veins and in your flesh.

No need to comment.

Goodbye, my friends.

We will return.

Be good.

- Brilliant!
- This is crazy, depraved. I love it.

We're going to be rich.

I'm vegan.

You eat humans every day, darling.

You eat humans every day, darling.

You swallow your saliva, right?

I could go on.

What's wrong, Ultra?

You're going to accept?

This is a unique opportunity, Ultra.

We'll be free from want.

We can create and redistribute.

You make me sick.

You have zero convictions. No morality.

You brazen hypocrite, Ultra.

You've taken Conann's money for your shows.

Yes I took it.

To call her out.

But now you can eat her, you can kill her.

Not kill her, only swallow her.

She's indigestible.

She'll infect and corrupt us.

Those who eat her will become monsters.

You're scared.

Speak for yourself, Ultra. I digest everything.

She'll end up in my shit.
It's the best she deserves.

And her shares, her mines, her laboratories?

- What will you do? - Transform them.

Yeah. Transform shit into gold.

We can finally create without ulterior motives.

Create art in its purest form...

...without having to sell ourselves.

You'll become barbaric.

No, we'll eat,

create and inherit.

Do what you want.

You disgust me.

You can have my share. - Thanks.

Who's with me?

Really Zuricha, even you?

Sorry.

Even though it's disgusting,

I'm in.

Farewell, detritus.

She acts pure, but she's the nastiest.

She'll be back.

They are amusing, the artists.

I want to see it all, hear it all until the very end, but no suffering.

With this, no pain, Madam.

I've known you to be braver.

We will cook everything locally, gently.

We'll open.. Empty. And stuff.

You will be satisfied.

If you are ready, Madam, we can operate.

I relaxed into the chemistry and the alchemy.

I was becoming a consumable barbarian.

And respectable.

You will need a lot of sugar to counter the bitterness.

Everything is proceeding well, Madam.

And Octavia, will she not inherit?

She is ready-.to .follow me to my grave.

Is. this lie true, Octavia?

I would do anything for Madam.

You never really liked my photos.

You can tell me now.

What's come over you, Rainer?

Now is not the time.

You think they have no artistic value.

They're more about recording

and obsession than art.

The legs are ready.

The stomach also. Organs have been stuffed.

But they are beautiful, are they not?

In need of recognation, Rainer?

Of objectivity.

What separates me from the six opportunists?

Five. The singer has left.

Urgency and lack of ulterior motives.

Whatever.

I'm the purest of them all

Leave me to enjoy

these lasts moments.

We'll have time enough

to discuss your feelings

in hell.

Look,

I'm becoming a work of art.

I have

never felt

better.

What a masterpiece was mine.

A concentrate of barbarity, treason, perversion,

romanticism and misguided love.

The arms are ready.

I've prepared a citrus and beetroot emulsion.

The wings have been spiced and grilled, coated with a 14 berry coulis.

The head has been glazed.

A still life.

He took the heart!

- Please, Sir.
- The heart is mine.

A unique specimen.

The hardest I've ever seen.

- Madam is served.
- Time to eat, children

But she's moving.

She's unconscious, it's the nerves.

Her eyes are open.

You must, of course, eat everything.

All has been delicately cooked, everything is delicious.

And the hair?

Parmesan and cream of asparagus,

angel hair with its Roquefort emulsion.

I'm digging in.

Consider it a performance.

An absolute, artistic act

of survival.

She's watching me.

Swallow.
Chew with closed eyes.

Shit.

Her nipple is stuck in my cheek.

There's no heart.

That is M. Rainer's share.

He also inherited?

No. I am not an artist.

Her vagina is sweet.

Strawberry jelly, mashed sweet potato and balsamic vinegar.

Her anus is on your spoon.

Swallow,. You chose, you chew.

Rose petals on peppercorns.

The fingers are like crab.

Shellfish consomme cloaked in grilled flesh.

Her breasts are filled with rice?

A three sheep's milk cheese rice pudding marinated in rum.

- You're eating her ass.
- Not at all, it's her elbow.

Boiled and ground bone

over a medley of vegetables, sauce poulette.

The artists swallowed, chewed, sucked, gulped without protest.

Their stomachs were barbaric.

An intestinal legacy.

Viruses, wars and the economy have made you precarious.

You, the artists.

The pure.

I have chosen you for your commitment and inspiration.

I know that you are in need,

and I have decided
to have you inherit my entire fortune.

But upon one condition.

You are free to refuse my fortune or eat me.

I will be the compost that nourishes and lives in you, artists,

your veins and in your flesh.

Don't forget the head.

- Not the head! - Everything!

If there are leftovers you won't inherit.

-1 want to throw up. - The worst is over.

Oddly enough, I was disgusted.

And already missed Conann.

The head will be cut into five equal parts.

Following Conann's wishes.

I don't want the eyes.

She's moaning.

It's a sound effect.

There's a diamond in the eye.

And gold in the skull.

The fortune begins.

Madam's idea.

To enhance choice pieces with little gifts to suck on.

We're rich!

Don't talk with your mouth full.

It wasn't that hard.

Self-satisfaction for dessert.

Conceit, the liqueur.

Octavia cried for me.

That is what a broom is for,

it does the dirty work.

My body was no more than a memory.

I flowed in the veins of art.

- Everything's gone, as you can see. - It is indeed.

The five of you are at the head of a lucrative empire.

Your fortune will be managed without any involvement on your part.

You will receive dividends, and are free to create without condition.

Can we clean up her investments?

They are rotten to the core.

Any intervention will dry out the source.

We have morals.

You've eaten an anaesthetized woman for her fortune.

Digest, you'll see things differently.

I feel Conann, and I'm proud of it.

We'll be famous.

The five of us will take power.

Brilliant. Kiss me, darling.

I'm going if we're done.
I'd rather not see you again.

No matter.

We'll see who becomes most famous.

I've a few ideas in mind.

Horrors beyond your imagination.

Magnificent. The wheels are turning.

May I take a souvenir photograph before we disperse?

What are the photos for?

The photo is the proof.

Ok, but I remain master of my image.

Of course. Stand side by side.

Go on!

All set.

Sexier.

More sex.

More disturbing.

Crazier.

Make me feel the barbarity, overflowing.

Yes! That's it.

Like that.

Magnificent!

More!

Yes. That's it.

Madam Ultra Lux has returned!

And so?

One has regrets?

It's too late.

We swallowed it all.

But we'll buy some of your songs if you behave.

- I've thought long and hard. - Too late!

It's impossible to share.

- Really? I wouldn't bet on it. - It's one fortune.

- If you've come back to lecture us... - It won't work.

You've been infected.
You're a poison for art and society.

- Fantastic, Ultra.
- We agree.

Whatever you say.

Now let us digest, will you?

Go on, get out.

Octavia? Please show her out.

I have one last thing to say.

Death to all cowards!

Out from under there!

You little barbaric upstart.

You only think of yourself, you can't kill me.

You'll die like them, and I'll inherit for the good cause.

You hid your game well.
I must admit you got me.

No witnesses.
Hand over the photos.

What, you censor?

You can't kill death,
it's the order of things, dear.

I have no idea what you're saying.

I am death.

Didn't you get that?

You're a dog-faced bailiff.

You are beautiful, you know.

What?

I have a heart?

Not for long.

I had a heart.

And I'm proud.

Touch it.

That heart beat for you, Conann.

No one other than me, Rainer.

I am the most barbaric of the barbarians.

The undefeated Conann.

I will always be here for you.

Do you have regrets?

An ocean of regrets.

Conann was to remain in hell.

Damned to search for her memory.

And I, damned to lose

and find Conann over and over again.

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