Apologies for this taking so long, it's been a busy couple of months; went to my first conference, got covid (am ok), organised a birthday BBQ, touched grass, the works.

\*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*/

As Scaramouche guides Albedo away from the nosy reporter, he can't help but wonder if he made a mistake and if he should have left the alchemist to put his foot in his mouth. That reporter, despite – or maybe because of – him being such a sorry excuse for his profession, managed to stumble into some obscure but relevant topics. Crackpot theories about the Dendro Archon and state of Sumeru Academia aside, the idiot did bring up homunculi, then the Great Sinner, topics Scaramouche was curious to bring up but hasn't yet for the sake of his cover.

Then again Albedo remained frustratingly, but not unexpectedly, stone-faced at the mention of his kin. Scaramouche at first thought the lack of a reaction was because of a one-track mind and general lack of awareness a homunculus would have.

But then Albedo did react at the mention of the Great Sinner.

Scaramouche barely clamped down on his own unease at the mention of that title, though that's because his only source of information about the Sinner comes from the one and only Il Dottore. All he truly knows of this 'Great Sinner' comes from Il Dottore's mad but praising ramblings about 'true, uninhibited genius, struck down by the Gods in fear of their progress'. Honestly, from the way that madman speaks of them, you'd think he was in love. One time, Scaramouche even tried to make that joke only for Il Dottore to pause in confusion before continuing his ramblings, uninhibited.

Hilariously – and dangerously – enough, the only other Harbinger that has made an open reference to the Sinner is Signora. However, unlike Il Dottore's admiration, she harbours nothing but homicidal hostility for 'that demented, monster-creating cretin', a fact that has once ended up in many 'impassioned debates' between the two Harbingers which Scaramouche found terribly amusing.

But, a madman's rare admiration and Signora's unusually fiery animosity aside, Scaramouche is more of the opinion that the Sinner is nothing more than a bogeyman, a cautionary tale on the importance of temperament and no more real than any other allegory. And as for Albedo's reaction…

Maybe the Sinner is controversial and touchy subjects for all alchemists. Unless Albedo knows something more…

No, the Sinner is connected to Khaenri'ah, and Khaenriah had a… particularly hostile attitude when it came to Celestia and the Archons. An attitude Albedo doesn't seem to share, the blasphemous nature of his existence notwithstanding.

Or maybe Albedo does and is good at hiding it. Scaramouche doesn't actually remember Albedo ever speaking of the Archons favourably, or at all. Even Sucrose, Albedo's fellow alchemist from the same near-godless nation, occasionally whispered a 'thank Barbatos' under her breath.

But this would imply Albedo is better at subterfuge than Scaramouche suspected–

Augh, Scaramouche is overthinking things again. If Albedo was from Khaenri'ah, he'd be three metres tall, made of metal and shooting missiles. Or one of those disturbing snake-wolf creatures with disembodied limbs. Or a massive dragon. Not a scrawny alchemist busy with inconsequential research in a peripheral nation.

Yes, Scaramouche is getting so bored with this mission that he's trying to chase down any mildly interesting thread related to the mysterious nature of his targets. But there's no need to rush. Once he captures Albedo and hands him to Il Dottore, Scaramouche is sure that madman will make the little homunculus sing like a bird.

"Oh, there you are!" Sucrose waves them over. Klee makes a beeline for Albedo, who bends slightly and picks her up.

"I'm tired," the girl mumbles as she lounges into Albedo's hold like a sleepy cat.

"Yes, I was thinking of what we could do for the rest of the day…" Sucrose trails off, indicating she's out of ideas.

And leaving a great opening for Scaramouche to enact his final plan. "You guys are staying over till the evening, right?" He knows the answer, but he asks in order to load his trap.

Sucrose nods. "We're part of a bigger caravan, so we have to wait for everyone to pack up. Most of our stuff is already back in our cart, though… What about you? Does your troupe leave early?"

Scaramouche holds back a laugh. The head of his troupe knows Scaramouche is only here for the Fair, and by now has wisened up enough not to pry and to keep his mouth shut. "My contract was only for the Fair's duration. After that, I suppose I'll keep wandering Teyvat, looking for another gig." And now is his last chance to resolve this peacefully. To see what Il Dottore is so enthused about. "By the way, I hear the artificial hot springs will stay open till the afternoon. I've been meaning to visit, especially since they have Inazuman-styled baths inside, and I'm feeling nostalgic."

Sucrose's ears twitch. "A warm bath sounds perfect right now…"

Klee nods along because she, as any other kid her age, is excited at merely being in the proximity of water.

"These are public baths, right?" Albedo asks. "If so, I'll have to decline, but feel free to go if you wish. A proper bath would be nice, but," he hesitates. "I... wouldn't be comfortable."

This seems to trigger something in Sucrose, for she shakes her head then nods. "Oh yes, of course, sorry I forg-uh..." She pauses mid-sentence, and the silence that follows her is deafening.

Right, Scaramouche expected this. Still, he has one last card up his sleeve. "There are private baths available. Most of them are closed for today, but the owner's got ties with our ringmaster, so I could set up something." Another partial lie, as the owner of the bath is a Fatui informer and collaborator.

And Scaramouche wants to get them there for more than a chance at looking at the array without resorting to violence. It's much better to operate on allied territory than the factional mess that is the fair grounds.

"Um, maybe we all could split up…?" Sucrose trails off in favour of looking back to Albedo. Even the kid doesn't say anything, but Scaramouche is unsure if she knows why her precious brother is so hesitant to undress.

"I think we all should go, as a group," Albedo finally says. "But I'm afraid I'll stay mostly dry if that's alright with everyone."

Scaramouche shrugs. Sucrose's resulting sigh and Klee's cry of joy is like music to his ears.

And the trap is armed.

\*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*/

The changing room is near empty, with only a few men loitering in a corner before the owner comes and kicks them out.

Scaramouche holds back a grimace. He wanted this place to be empty – he gave the owner precise instructions that it should be empty. Not only does he want to have another go at unearthing whatever secrets Albedo is so persistent at hiding, he's used to having his own private bath as a Harbinger.

Once this facade is done, he'll have words with the owner about his incompetence.

The men eye them as they enter. Scaramouche reciprocates a frown as he and Albedo head to the other corner, facing away from the other group.

"We just need to wash and grab some towels before entering the bath," Scaramouche says as he unties his belt while Albedo starts taking off his boots. "And don't worry about locks, the staff have someone–"

"Ah excuse me," a stranger's voice behind him says as Scaramouche is halfway through removing his yukata, "but you may be in the wrong–"

"Guess again, moron," Scaramouche hisses before he can stop himself. He barely holds back an annoyed flinch at his mask dropping and showing a glimpse of his fangs. His current disguise may be skilled with the blade, but is supposed to be friendly and harmless–

"We're trying to have a private conversation," comes Albedo's voice seconds later. "Please leave."

Scaramouche stays as he is, his back turned to the sound of people shuffling away, then a door opening and closing. He turns to see Albedo staring at the retreating men, one boot halfway off his foot.

"Annoying idiots," Scaramouche mutters, and fuck, that is not what he's supposed to say. "I mean, thank you," he says to Albedo much louder, even if it pains him.

"Merely repaying a favour," Albedo says with a nod as he sits down on a bench to remove his boots. "That was rude of them."

Scaramouche snorts. "I know right? Some people just can't mind their own business."

Albedo hums as he takes off his coat while Scaramouche neatly folds away his yukata. An uneasy silence falls between them.

"By the way, we didn't finish our previous conversation about the statue, did we?" Albedo eventually asks as he lifts his shorts to unfasten the clasps of his garters and take off his stockings.

Scaramouche takes a moment to recall said conversation, as the useless trivia it contained barely held his interest. "I don't think we did."

"Well, this is as good time as any," Albedo says, though Scaramouche doubts he thinks any time is unfit for rambling about alchemical minutia. "So, the statue's… atypical appearance has to do with an old belief about performing alchemy."

Scaramouche hums to pretend he's listening. He's busy internally debating whether he should take off his sarashi and underwear. Tradition says he should, but no matter what tacky decor, this is not a proper Inazuman bathhouse, only a cheap imitation, with three clueless people from Mondstadt as his only company. Plus the previous nuisance has left him uneasy.

"Maintaining balance is a major concern in alchemy. Though nowadays that is limited to balancing one's equations and reactions, it was once thought that the casters should be in balance as well."

As Albedo drones on, Scaramouche notices he's stopped taking off his clothes. Shorts and shirt is as much as he gets.

Oh well, no use crying over failed plans. A warm bath awaits him.

"Of the many ways one could go on about 'balancing' people, the most popular one was to have two casters; a man and a woman, to balance the masculine and feminine," Albedo keeps droning. "Thus, it was common for pairs of male and female alchemists to work together as one."

"Like you and your assistant," Scaramouche says without much thought.

Albedo pauses, seeming genuinely taken aback. "Oh no, there is no such arrangement between me and Sucrose. It would not apply to me – such beliefs held little weight in my master's mind – or mine," Albedo says, and though Scaramouche does not miss that aborted sentence – is there some sort of exception when it came to homunculi? – he does not dwell too much on it. "I don't mean to bore you by going over the many flimsy assumptions and jumps in logic. At the end of the day, it's nothing more than a half-baked superstition."

That last remark is uncharacteristically acidic. Scaramouche makes that known with a slight frown, which he doubts will be picked up when its intended recipient is so focused on giving an impromptu lecture.

Surprisingly, Albedo notices. "Ah, I didn't mean to be so abrupt. My master– she and I practise an old Art; it's a field full of superstitions, which she holds in disdain."

Reminds Scaramouche of someone he knows.

But whatever. Now that Albedo has sated his urge to monologue about alchemy, Scaramouche can focus back on taking a nice, proper bath before the end of his mission. He even barely pays attention as he takes off his sarashi, grabs a towel and leads Albedo into the shower area.

\*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*/

Albedo and Scaramouche enter the bath area just as Sucrose and Klee emerge from the other opening. The bath that greets them in no way compares to the luxury or size of hot-spring baths at Zapolyarny palace, but it still could fit about a dozen people comfortably. The stone work is of particularly high quality – and considering the ephemeral nature of this place, probably the work of someone with a Geo vision.

Sucrose squeals a quick greeting as she hurries to the bath, Scaramouche following behind her in a much more relaxed pace. Albedo stands back as Klee, who is wearing her towel like a cape, rans to him and starts babbling about something Scaramouche doesn't catch.

Scaramouche sinks in the warm water with a content sigh. Though not scolding hot, which is how he prefers his baths, the water is at least steaming.

But before he can even think of massaging his back, Klee runs and dive bombs in the bath, splashing him and Sucrose and emerging with a triumphant yell.

"Oh Klee!" Sucrose says as she takes off her now-wet glasses and shakes her head like a dog. "You shouldn't do that here, I don't think that's polite…" She trails off, giving Scaramouche a worried look.

Klee follows Sucrose's gaze to Scaramouche, but he only shrugs. She's a kid, might as well let her have fun.

Klee's grin returns, as bright as the sun. "Kunikuzushi, you do it too!"

"I'm too much of an old man for that," he says and Klee giggles, thinking he's making a joke.

Klee turns back to an approaching Albedo. "Are you going to jump in, big brother?"

"I'll just sit on the side," Albedo says as he settles on the edge of the bath, with only his legs submerged.

"Then..." Klee says as she struggles to get out of the pool. Albedo scoops her up, and his sleeveless shirt slides back on his shoulders to reveal a glimpse of gold.

There. Scaramouche's target is so tantalisingly close…

He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes and sinks nose-deep into the bath. Patience. He should enjoy the bath first. This place is downright luxurious compared to the bullshit accommodations of the troupe, which might as well have been a barn.

The next hour or so passes in relative tranquillity. Once you get past their alchemic geekery, Sucrose and Albedo make for pleasant conversational partners. Klee keeps pretending the small they're in is a pool, though that may be because it seems like a proper pool to someone her size. She even asks Albedo to pick her up and throw her a couple of times, which he obliges after a quick look at a passive Scaramouche.

At one point, Albedo even uses his Geo vision to create a small floating platform for Klee to 'safely' jump off from. Even Sucrose starts playing along, using her anemo to swirl the water and make the kid squeal in excitement.

Good thing Scaramouche doesn't have a vision on him, because he's sure Klee would ask him to use it on the water, her childish brain probably not understanding that'd end up with her becoming like her beloved smoked fish.

Other than that, the time passes much more smoothly than Scaramouche anticipated, with no prying into his personal affairs. During his vagrant days, there were many times when he bathed in rivers near villages. Occasionally he would come across people, kids included. Wise adults would keep any comments to themselves, but kids would always ask him questions about everything and anything they could think of. So though he's not surprised by Sucrose's lack of commentary, – or Albedo's, but he may not even have not noticed for all Scaramouche knows – he expected Klee to be curious.

Then again, the kid is smarter than she seems. Most likely, she's already figured out everything by herself without having to ask Scaramouche any inane questions.

"You have a tattoo!" Klee says and points at the back of Scaramouche's neck.

Scaramouche takes it back. The kid is a hellion.

"Albedo has one too!" Klee continues, blissfully unaware of the minefields she's setting off, while Scaramouche struggles to keep a straight face. "But it's way bigger than yours."

"Ah, yes I do," Albedo quickly says, his hands hovering towards Klee but unable to do anything to stop her. Sucrose does all the emoting for Albedo; her wide eyes and flattened ears might as well be screaming that Albedo's 'tattoo' is a sensitive matter. Scaramouche would be cackling at his discomfort were he not in the same exact position. "But remember that it is rude to point at people–"

"Oh, sorry!" Klee says, and all Scaramouche can do is nod and hope the conversation moves on– "It's a very pretty tattoo! What is it about?"

Scaramouche smiles as he swallows a lump in his throat. "It's the… crest of Inazuma," he says, reminding himself that the best crafted lie is one built on half-truths. "...To remind me of home."

Klee sagely nods before she jumps in the bath and tries to do a handstand underwater.

Scaramouche keeps up his smile. This is fine. The kid is just doing kid things. If anyone's responsible for this mess is the Electro Archon herself, who apparently had to fucking stamp her creations in case the uncanny physical resemblance was not enough of a sign.

"Apologies about that," Albedo says as he sidles closer to Scaramouche. "She's very observant for her age."

Huh. Trying to hide his discomfort and Klee's accidental slip of the tongue by focusing back on Scaramouche's 'tattoo'. Painfully amateur subterfuge, but Scaramouche gives him a point for trying.

Still, Scaramouche doesn't push, if only not to attract attention to the Shogun's stamp on the nape of his neck. Instead, their conversation drifts back into chit-chat.

A few more hours pass. The light outside the window fades, sunset approaching fast. Klee has tired herself out and is sitting by Sucrose, who is nodding off herself.

About time.

Albedo is still sitting motionless by the side of the bath, staring off into the distance. He only breaks his stupor when Scaramouche silently floats towards him.

"Can we talk?"

Albedo gives him a curious look but helps Scaramouche rise from the bath as well as handing him his towel. Scaramouche heads back towards the empty lockers, towelling himself dry while Albedo follows.

"Oh, are we leaving?" Albedo asks as he stops by the threshold of the locker room. "I should go tell Klee and–"

Scaramouche grabs Albedo's arm, pushing him further into the room, towards a particular locker and closing the door behind them. His grip is a bit stronger than it should, but he's almost finished and wonders if Albedo would even be bothered by it. "Just a sec."

Judging by Albedo stare at his arm but lack of pained cry, he's noticed but is unbothered by the iron-like grip. Interesting. "Is everything alright?"

Scaramouche hums as he lets go and opens the locker to find his clothes. At least his minions got that part correct. "Out of curiosity, why did you reject my advances?"

When he doesn't receive a reply, he looks back at Albedo's startled expression. "... I didn't realise."

Scaramouche gives him a flat look as he starts dressing. "I wasn't being subtle." Archons, he was doing the equivalent of a horny cat yowling from the rooftops.

That only makes Albedo's startled expression even more prominent.

"Oh, my apologies... I… I'm… rather oblivious and inexperienced when it comes to such matters…" Albedo's words are accompanied by a slight stutter, which makes Scaramouche pause. If he didn't know any better, Scaramouche would think the homunculus is flustered.

In any case, Scaramouche takes advantage of the confusion to quickly put on his shorts.

"Even if I did… notice…" Albedo continues with a faraway look, probably thinking over their previous interactions, while Scaramouche puts on his black top, "I'm… unsure if I would be able to... reciprocate... them, though..." Albedo's pause lasts longer than before. Scaramouche guesses he's finally starting to catch on that there's something not quite right here. "These aren't your clothes."

"It's what I usually wear," Scaramouche calmly says as he adjusts his sleeves and pulls out his wide-brimmed hat. He turns to Albedo, whose confusion is compounded upon by the nonchalant reply. He looks so much like a lost puppy, it's almost funny. "And thank you for confirming it wouldn't have worked either way. I was afraid I'd gotten rusty."

Scaramouche takes a deep breath to savour the zenith of Albedo's confusion, of a trap finally closing around its unsuspecting prey. Electro crackles at his fingertips a second later, and he sends a blast of it right at Albedo's heart.

Albedo, caught completely unaware, takes the blast at full force and falls back with a spasm. His head hits the ground with a crack, and he stills.

Scaramouche frowns at the Albedo's unmoving form. That better not have killed him. There were barely enough amps in his hit to cause arrhythmia.

Then again, he is dealing with a homunculus; a cheap imitation of an already faulty creature.

He can't quite see Albedo's face from his angle, so Scaramouche slowly walks around the body. A few sounds come from the bath, probably his grunts taking care of the other two–

Something grasps his ankle tightly enough to bruise, and the next Scaramouche knows is that he's toppled to the floor, face down. His nose stings, and there's a glimpse of movement next to him–

Scaramouche rolls away on instinct as Albedo's fist shatters the tile underneath. A gold aura gathers around his gloves as homunculus rises to his feet, staring at Scaramouche with wide, dilated eyes but an uncanny blank expression,

Scaramouche grunts in annoyance. The little homunculus thought he could catch him by surprise.

Electro courses through Scaramouche and he lunges lightning-fast at Albedo. He grabs the homunculus' face and bodily shoves him against the lockers, breaking wood until the homunculus's head crashes into the brick wall, cracking it. Scaramouche pours more Electro through his grip, enough to make someone scream before losing consciousness.

But he can see a peek of blue under his fingertips. Albedo has not only stayed conscious, but his trembling arms slowly rise towards Scaramouche's hand.

With a curse, Scaramouche wraps his other hand around the homunculus' neck and twists his whole body to shove him aside. The homunculus is much heavier than he looks, and he ends up rolling on the floor instead of flying into the opposite wall as Scaramouche intended.

Scaramouche leisurely strolls towards Albedo, who once again rises to his hands and feet. There's a crack on his forehead but he, annoyingly, appears otherwise unharmed.

Their eyes lock. Albedo opens his mouth to speak but closes it shut as his shoulders tense.

Scaramouche narrows his eyes as he tenses up as well. Is the homunculus thinking of lunging at him like a fucking idiot?

But after the sounds of scuffle from the other room, Albedo bolts back towards the bath, to where Sucrose and Klee are. Probably thinking that because he has a head start, Scaramouche can't catch up to him in time.

Scaramouche laughs as Electro courses through him, enveloping him. He blinks, and he's right in front of Albedo, who halts his approach at Scaramouche's sudden appearance.

"Surprise~" Scaramouche sing-songs as he takes out his practice sword and swings it down.

Albedo raises his forearms, catching the blade. Scaramouche expected a parry, but not the sight of the blade failing to dig into what should be skin, instead cracking the area like flimsy stone.

How novel. Scaramouche keeps laughing as he extends his other hand, gathering Electro around and refining it into a much better weapon.

Albedo doesn't even have time to recognise the newly-forged Electro sword before Scaramouche thrusts it into his belly, like he's done so many times before.

But the blade catches on something and slides away from the homunculus' skin before even making contact. Scaramouche falters for a moment, narrowing his eyes at the slight simmer of purple; an Electro shield – the homunculus must be channelling Geo which combined with Scaramouche's overflowing Electro–

Albedo's hand closes into a fist and glimmers. Scaramouche jumps back just as something rises from where he's standing, a clump of Geo which settles into a flower-like shape.

Ha! How quaint. An artificial human making artificial flowers to attack him. If this was any other opponent, Scaramouche would be insulted.

"Keep resisting, you're making this even more fun!" Scaramouche lets out and there's a truth to his statement, not just thoughtless banter. He's never faced an opponent like this, and there's a fleeting exhilaration about the homunculus' unexpected battle prowess.

But Albedo, still blank-faced, ignores Scaramouche and makes another run for the bath area.

Scaramouche clicks his tongue and dashes again. He first appears right in front of Albedo again, ripping the Geo vision off his collar.

Albedo falters at his sudden appearance – plus Scaramouche has heard that the feeling of foreign hands on one's Vision is quite unpleasant. He takes advantage of the homunculus' sudden stop by dashing behind and above him and landing knee-first on his neck, toppling him to the floor. Scaramouche quickly pins the homunculus, grabbing his hands and digging his aching knee into the homunculus' neck, which throbs as if he smashed it against stone.

"Lord Harbinger!"

The bath's door is swung open as a gaggle of Fatui in full combat gear pour through. Albedo tenses under Scaramouche, much more so when a familiar face comes into view. Albedo gasps as the grunts drag in a limp Sucrose, but Scaramouche puts more pressure on him, letting off a small but painful bolt of Electro through his knee, which strangely results in a much stronger jerk than previous attempts.

Careful so Albedo won't escape his grip, Scaramouche glances at Sucrose. She's bleeding from her head and though her eyes are open, her gaze is unfocused. Her towel is halfway off, revealing a nasty bruise that winds from under her breast and over her back.

Good, so she's out of commission. Scaramouche can even hand her to Il Dottore as a treat. Archons know that madman has an insatiable need for new test subjects. Yet there's one very important absence from the group.

Scaramouche glances over the grunts, searching for one particular face he's not seeing. "Where's the kid?"

The grunts collectively shift in unease. Scaramouche's frown turns into a glare. "Uh, she put up a stronger fight than we expected, Lord Harbinger–"

"Where. Is. She?" Scaramouche says through gritted teeth.

"Lord Harbinger, let us explain!" a particularly foolhardy grunt says as they step forward and gesture to Sucrose. "She used a blast of Anemo to swirl a bunch of elements and during the chaos the girl must have–"

The grunt cries out as it collapses, writhing in pain by a bolt of Electro from Scaramouche.

"You incompetent idiots! All you had to do was grab a nerd and a toddler and yet somehow – ah, ah ah, I wouldn't move if I were you," he says as Albedo jerks with a strangled noise. "You wouldn't want my lightning to go off target and hit your precious little assistant now, would you?"

Albedo stops his thrashing, only moving his head up to stare at Sucrose. "If it's only me you're after, then let her go."

Scaramouche raises an eyebrow and leans by Albedo's ear.

"Let her go? You know we're not in the business of leaving witnesses, don't you? The alternative to taking her with us is…"

"No!" Albedo wriggles in his grasp. Scaramouche zaps him again in instinct, before he shifts his hold so he can see Albedo's face.

The homunculus' gaze is fixated at Sucrose, face drawn. Even his arms are slightly trembling, Scaramouche realises. That can't be because of his weak zap.

Scaramouche's remark dies in his tongue, but he quickly regains his cocky composure. If he pushes Albedo on this…

"Told you not to move," Scaramouche boredly says. "It's like you want me to kill her–"

"Please, don't," Albedo breathes out. Normally, Scaramouche would be annoyed by the interruption, but the homunculus' reaction is so unexpected that Scaramouche lets him speak. "Whatever you want. I won't resist. But don't harm her, please."

Scaramouche frowns. There's something strange with Albedo's outburst. Something in his eyes, something about his body language. Something primitive and basic.

Fear. True fear, true emotion, not a pretence of it.

And it all adds up. All the little oddities Scaramouche noticed but thought little of, because the alternative was too impossible.

There are plenty of people desperate to bond with a blank slate, capable of befriending everyone. But for Klee to love him like family and for Sucrose to all but adore him… And all the little gestures, the little breaks from the mask that Scaramouche thought was just for show…

Albedo's blank mask is just that; a mask. There is emotion under it, no matter how well-hidden.

A heart.

Scaramouche doesn't know how to react. If a mere human can make a heart, or something that functions close to it, then…

Why? Why does Albedo, a lowly homunculus, get to have one? Why is Scaramouche, a divine creation, lacking one? Is Ei that incompetent? That malicious? Why has Il Dottore not – no, that's because Scaramouche has not told him, has not told anyone of his true desires.

No matter. There's no use focusing on the why. He should focus on taking advantage of this opportunity.

Albedo is his prisoner. But Scaramouche doesn't know jack shit about artificial humans or the mechanisms behind them. Plus, he's unsure how much Albedo knows or will reveal, no matter how far Scaramouche pushes him.

But Scaramouche doesn't need the homunculus' cooperation when he has Il Dottore. If Scaramouche hands him over, the madman will surely figure out how to make a homunculus. Making a heart will be even easier as it's just a component to a larger system.

But if it's not compatible, or too weak, or too…

Then Scaramouche can force Il Dottore to come up with a solution. Il Dottore already owes him a favour for this. A captured Sucrose can be the cherry on top: a Vision-wielding lab rat, the type Il Dottore prizes and something that will only strengthen the force behind Scaramouche's demands.

"U-um," a grunt timidly speaks up. "Lord Harbinger, your orders–?"

"Load them up," Scaramouche says as he stands, and the minions crowd over Albedo. Not that they'd need to, since he seems to be complying, still worriedly looking over Sucrose. He looks so pathetic Scaramouche almost wants to kick him.

But he simply turns back to the exit.

"We're heading back to Snezhnaya."

\*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*/

Scaramouche: oh no, I've got Gender Trouble

Albedo: Oh, I'm sorry. Let me monologue about matters that vaguely allude to my own Gender Troubles because that is the only way I know how to face them. Plus spending time with my family and friends.

Scaramouche: Neat! Now let me abduct you :3