Scared? The descriptor was somehow enough for a break in attention, and the child brought a hand to his back, to the gun strapped beneath his uniform. What he spoke to her and what was returned rang as little more than alarming, and millions of questions pressed against the insides of his head. The conclusion, however, was ultimately simple. An unknown clone was a danger, particularly ones who asked the wrong question to the wrong person.

Nigredo removed the restraints and drew his gun, the muzzle pointing toward the floor. Creeping slowly to eye level on automatic. The fear in his expression hardened to focus, though nothing changed on the inside. The boy was still--

"Scared," the other responded, moving to tightening his grip on Senna's sleeve, "of what you might think."