At times, the twins had a way of communicating that existed on a plane or two above his. A natural rhythm in a dance for two, the similarities shared in halves of a whole, as he had once read. Nigredo used to attribute this as a trait shared solely by twins and often disintegrated into a loneliness he wouldn't dare voice. Here, however, his emotions manifested differently.

There were facts he was missing in this exchange, a reference that would be made clearer with--what he assumed would be--a simple explanation. That neither was providing him with said explanation made the youngest discover how much annoyance could flare in spite of the drama involved. He bit his bottom lip, and in an attempt to ignore his own misgivings, Nigredo scrambled for some form of purchase.

"What in the world are you two talking about?" he asked, frowning. The fear had long since dispersed, and yet, his hand remained clutching tightly to Albedo's shirt. The discrepancy was almost comical, though some might see it as a sign that the fear had never truly left. It had merely redirected.

This became more evident the instant Albedo put forth an accusation. A viable one, of course. They had sorted their reasoning some time prior, but the fact of an accusation remained. Furthermore, to bring up alternate worlds and other surreal matters Nigredo was still trying to swallow, it registered as wrong in his mind. A sentiment that only strengthened at Rubedo's response.

Nigredo glanced between the pair, an eyebrow quirked in a question as his eyes went wide. His words, however, attempted to produce responses. It was better than being silent, he supposed. "So that's it, then," muttered Nigredo, his mind settling on a certain bulletin exchange. "You did eventually take up the name Gaignun Kukai, Jr." He shook his head and fell silent, leaving the single most important query to Albedo.

It was Albedo, after all, who had the right to answer.