His breath caught at the wordless exchange of physical contact shared between his brothers so naturally, as if they had always interacted with such painstakingly intimate understanding. Across from them, he felt off balance by the subtle action, like an outsider witness to something secret, something treasured, something he had no right to. His fingers tightened on his biceps as an indiscernible look darkened his expression. Turning his face to the side, he gazed down the street, and it belatedly occurred to him that he was allowing them that moment of privacy.

He was still staring off when Nigredo questioned him, but his brother’s surprise didn’t come as news to Jr.; he had already prepared not to expect them to know. There was comfort to be found, however, in the responses of his brothers. Nigredo, who had not brushed off his words carelessly, who had, while blatantly confused, prompted him for clarification. Albedo, who had mocked him, whose laughter sent shivers of unease crawling down his spine. These things were familiar to him. These things he could handle. Anchoring himself, Jr. glanced back at his brothers, gauging them.

“I dunno,” he began coolly, replying to Albedo’s first remark. “I bet it’ll find us, one of these days. Seems like the ideal place for men like us, after all.” Except the reference was wasted. This Albedo was too young. He wouldn’t pick up on it. As much as the physical contact shared between his brothers had been something private, something almost sacred, so too had been that moment the twins had shared in the space-time anomaly following their battle. At the thought, his arms fell to his sides so that he could reach up to touch the right side of his chest, an instinctive gesture that was both protective and desperate. Nothing was amiss, of course. He’d had known the instant something had changed. It would seem that this place could not unmake what was now whole, complete — what was one.

The rest of Albedo’s words were numbing. For a moment, he simply stood there, staring at one brother and then the other with a sharp, searching look. The next moment, he was walking, pacing back and forth in front of them, forcing himself into motion to keep these revelations from boggling him down. He watched them out of the corner of his eye as he did, lips tight. He had not too long ago come to a similar conclusion to the one Albedo now expressed, that there existed different realities, different parallel worlds. It explained why KOS-MOS had come to Asgard from a time much too early in their shared history, why there had been people who had disappeared from the holy city, only to later return with no memories of their previous stay. Parallel worlds. Even with his theories and discussions on it with the others, even with the evidence standing several feet off, it was still difficult to swallow. Perhaps, he thought, there existed a world where Rubedo had never released his brothers’ hands.

Stopping abruptly, he scrubbed a hand across his face, just as exhausted as his twin. “That would explain your awful fashion sense.” The quip was half-hearted at best, an attempt to take an unfamiliar situation and ground it. But Jr. wasn’t in the mood for humor. “You’ve met…you’ve met me — ” No, no, he refused that idea immediately. “ — you’ve met multiple Jr.s out there. That’s how you know about my age.” He was working through this slowly, but already a question was on his lips. “What else did they tell you?” Why, he wanted to ask, are you acting as if I’m something to be feared? Something that doesn’t belong? If he was there with you, if he told you how things turned out…

He paled.

“If…if you’ve met more than one… What the hell happened to the ones before him?”