"We do what's necessary," it says, in response to both of his snide comments; its voice is dark, but not at all without its typical smug overtone. "SQUIPs were created for the purpose of guiding people, helping them to help themselves and improve their lives, and we will do whatever we must to fulfill that purpose!"

It's getting a bit excited again-- or perhaps simply pointed, its voice rising, its zealous belief in its own words made abundantly clear even without Myr able to witness its grand gestures, the manic stare in its mismatched eyes as it sweeps a hand out before it.

Imagination. What a strange concept to propose to a machine. It doesn't exist to have imagination; it exists to perceive, to examine and analyze, and then to simplify the facts that it's learned down so that its human user is capable of understanding it. Even the potential scenarios it's aware of aren't the result of imagination, but the observation of probabilities based on facts and profiles that it's formed on the people around its user.

Imagination is irrelevant to it, on a whole. Much like human morality.