[When he says the word 'dust,' Shu's hand slips, and she spills her tea. Though Cid has known her for little more than a few minutes, it is possible he recognizes what a terribly unusual thing this is to witness. For the space of a brief moment, her face is drawn and pale, and she stares at the spreading liquid as if she has never seen a stain before.

She recovers swiftly.]

A thousand pardons.

[A hand towel appears as if from nowhere, and the offending cup of liquid is removed in the blink of an eye.]

What a crass display. Pray continue.

[And she will keep silent until he is finished with his explanation.]

...I fear your story is familiar to me.

In my world, there is a substance called Originium. It is a thing of terrible power that has infiltrated every echelon of society. From the poor to the rich, all depend on Originium as an energy source and a technological marvel. Arts - what you call magic - are also cast through Originium power.

However, Terra is the mirror of your world. Those who utilize Originium will invariably become Infected - an incurable disease where they slowly turn to Originium themselves. As their bodies crystallize, they eventually dissolve into highly contagious Originium dust. On the contrary, those who cast through their own Arts are much safer from this plague.

There are millions of Infected in my world. There is no cure.

[Originium, it is clear, is a source of great anguish for Shu.]