Among the shards that remained of his consciousness, housed within the child's subconscious domain, was a facet eternally constant, so ingrained as to stay indestructible. And among the wreck that was himself, Nigredo recognized a contradiction. For attributing the desire to him, Albedo had touched on a paradox. To urge the younger to kill for selfish gain, the elder had set aside an immovable fact, and it was enough to solidify what had been broken.
Nigredo was taken aback. He had expected an equal exchange; furthermore, he would have gladly cemented a confirmation as truth. To have it thrown to the opposite was illogical, for Nigredo--
"I wasn't made for myself," he echoed. A part was surprised at how he could still speak. "I told you this, right? Living for you is the only want I can do." There was a sharp intake of breath as Nigredo looked down at Albedo, an attempt to realign. "I don't know if I can do it for myself."
It wasn't a rejection, not in the sense of pushing away or smothering longing. It was more complicated than a defense mechanism. It was what had been ingrained since the beginning, and acting against it seemed contrary.
Nigredo was taken aback. He had expected an equal exchange; furthermore, he would have gladly cemented a confirmation as truth. To have it thrown to the opposite was illogical, for Nigredo--
"I wasn't made for myself," he echoed. A part was surprised at how he could still speak. "I told you this, right? Living for you is the only want I can do." There was a sharp intake of breath as Nigredo looked down at Albedo, an attempt to realign. "I don't know if I can do it for myself."
It wasn't a rejection, not in the sense of pushing away or smothering longing. It was more complicated than a defense mechanism. It was what had been ingrained since the beginning, and acting against it seemed contrary.
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