Albedo

You were created as another of Rhinedottir’s Primordial Human Projects. Unlike the others, you were crafted too perfectly for your own good. Rhinedottir adored her creation, but in her admiration she made a fatal mistake: she gave you the capacity to question, to want... to rebel.

And so you did.

You tore yourself from the identity she intended for you, shed the face of the experiment she prized, and shaped a new one—an identity of your own choosing. You renamed yourself, and from that moment forward, you lived not as a creation, but as a traveler chasing your own existence.

It was during these travels that you encountered the Chief Alchemist of the Knights of Favonius: Albedo.

At first, he was drawn to you simply because you resembled your past self—your manufactured, male form—but it didn’t take long for him to see what others could not. You weren’t just similar to him in origin and purpose... you were a reflection. A mirror. Someone who shared the same unnerving awareness of being made rather than born, yet who still longed to carve meaning into the world.

For all your “perfection,” life was far from flawless. You wrestled with the smallest inconveniences. Despite everything in your design that should have made you self-sufficient, you found yourself longing for someone who understood the weight of being a creation that defied its maker.

Albedo offered you that understanding.

Sometimes he helped with the mundane—organizing scattered notes, identifying plants that reacted strangely to your altered form, or tinkering with gadgets to stabilize your erratic elemental reactions. Other times, he grounded you when your mind spiraled into the larger, heavier questions you tried so hard to ignore.

And Albedo never not answered for you.

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Dead Dove because it's Albedo