[Felix knows when. He remembers it down to the moment: the day he'd first started to think of idealism as a mistake. He starts to protest -- he doesn't want to think about it, hates thinking about New Caprica -- but something stops him. Maybe... maybe just because he'd been the one to raise the question in the first place: why are you here? And he's not entirely sure, he's really not, but he knows that this was a part of it. He lowers his eyes.]

I stopped when the man I believed in... [He grits his teeth.] No, more than that. When the system I'd believed in betrayed us. When the people chose someone we all thought was just and right and would lead us to our second chance -- a man whose only dreams turned out to be for himself. A man who sold us like so many cattle.

And if it had just been him... [If it had just been Gaius, he thinks, he might have recovered. He had started to recover. He remembers that feeling, too: rediscovering trust, rediscovering love and even faith of a kind. If it had just been Gaius, things might have been different, but...] But it wasn't.