An eyebrow raised, and he smiled, charmed. Mindless, Nigredo was or not; perhaps, but he understood the dance. There could be hope for the youngest, yet, if he didn't go on to-- Well, another time any way. He had no need for violence with Nigredo--by now, both twins had broke him enough. Albedo couldn't raise a hand for the threat of going against what he was given. And so?

And still, Nigredo persisted in his theme. How... interesting, intriguing. Albedo's eyes shone, some kind of glee mixing with an undercurrent of panic tugging at his sleeve at the blood on the ground. No. He would know. Rubedo was not dead. Merely close. And monsters were so hard to kill. Albedo wet his lips, poised to answer, when there was a distraction instead. The man that was a shadow earlier stormed out, an easy and willing target. And this yelling... Familiar? Oh, yes, that's right: this man had done this before, screamed at him for no reason relevant. Albedo's stance abruptly changed, languid pose stiffening, small muscles shifting under skin as blood was brought to a boil once more. Tension seemed to rise as the air thickened. But first, siblings. Always. The man was ignored. This time, Albedo sent, speaking in verse sardonically; asking, promising.

{It says I am whole. It says I am clean--All is forgiven, I've been... set free.} He eyed Nigredo, wondering. His tone grew flat. {So let the blood speak for me.}

Silence was a shroud, but that soon changed. His response had been a momentary lapse in attention to the... threat, as it were; laughable at best. Still looking at Nigredo, Albedo's head tilted to the side, then slowly rotated until he was looking at Klavier. There was nothing in the weapon's face that would beg one to remember humanity--this was a weapon, a predator, and for insolence, it promised death; detached and efficient, able and willing. He stared for a moment, boring down.

At his side, his fingers moved. "Then leave," he stated darkly, lowly, tones resounding. "Or take their place instead."