The question, although unwelcome, quiets Dextera so he can think about it properly.

He doesn’t know his brother, except for the one clear feature they share in that they’re twins. That lack of knowledge makes him crave replacing it, but in a lucid moment, he knows it’s unreasonable.

The scar on his side throbs.

“I just… wish it was,” he says. “I don’t know how to stop missing him, if it’s not.”