[ Walter paid clear attention to Wrath, still remaining calm. When he spoke, his voice was soft, and he was clearly taking time to think his words carefully. ]

Wrath, I can't speak for how you were before I met you. I do not mean that you were bad, or not real - but because I was the same. I killed other people. For most, I felt nothing. For others... [ He shook his head slowly. This wasn't the time. He continued, a little slower as this was still difficult for him to say. ] But...I think you are good. You care for your Pokemon, and treat them well. And...you have been good company with me. I'm not...good, at this. At expressing this. But I told you before that your memories are yours. I think you are real. ...You matter. If you didn't matter to me, I wouldn't talk to you about this.

Team Rocket are like our old masters. Not to us. To the Pokemon we steal for them. They hurt them greatly, Wrath. They put them in little cells for months. It does not matter, if a Pokemon is obedient or loyal. When they cannot use it anymore, when it is too broken to give them anything, they maim it so they can sell it's body parts and abandon what is left.

I'm tired of it. Of being told to hurt things, because I 'have to', or because I might be punished. And there is another way.