The reaction was altogether far too pleasing. Albedo smiled, then, like a child who had won a game. This man who for some reason now knew all three of them had a distaste--a strong distaste--for something he had voiced. The abandonment? No, there was no righteous anger towards his siblings. This anger was towards him. The violence, then. How precocious. Someone not used to threats of physical harm and mayhem? It must be nice. But even normal siblings used that threat in easy terms.

The easy chuckle that escaped Albedo was arrogant and slightly mocking. The man needed more world experience. He wasn't about to escape the fact that violence coated human nature, soaked it in its sweat, and absorbed any goodness remaining. It created monsters. It had created them. Weapons of war. Another chuckle, and Albedo filled in the letters, two Ns and two words. A smile, an invitation. Albedo waited.

_ _ n _ / n _ _ _ _ / _ _ _ e _