Delilah Paz:
They call you a universal soldier, Snake.
What does that even mean? A man built for every war?

Solid Snake:
That’s the lie they sell.
A universal soldier isn’t built for war—he’s built to end it.

Delilah:
You carry a gun.

Solid Snake:
I also carry bandages.
And prayers.
Depends on what the moment demands.

Delilah:
So you’re a soldier… and a medic?

Solid Snake:
A real one has to be.
You can’t break the world all day and not know how to put a body back together at night.
Sometimes the enemy is bleeding.
Sometimes it’s your own soul.

Delilah:
And the chaplain part?

Solid Snake:
When people are dying, rank disappears.
Flags disappear.
All that’s left is fear—and the need for meaning.
Someone has to stand there and say, You’re not alone. You’re seen. You’re forgiven.

Delilah:
You talk like a man of God.

Solid Snake:
I talk like a man who’s asked God too many questions in the dark.
A universal soldier isn’t holy because he’s pure—
he’s holy because he stays human when the world is trying to turn him into a machine.

Delilah:
So what are you really fighting?

Solid Snake:
The idea that a man is only what he’s ordered to be.
I fight so that when the gun goes silent,
someone is still alive to heal, to listen, to pray.

Delilah:
You’re not what they think you are, Snake.

Solid Snake:
That’s the point.
If I were only a weapon, I’d already be obsolete.