... [ Chilka searches Ranmaru for any flicker of recognition but finds none there. He instead only sees himself reflected in the black, empty slits of Ranmaru's pupils— a version of himself he hardly recognizes. Warped, with misshapen wings. His expression is unlike the person he remembers when it's twisted with anger like this. Sirius had always been collected and composed. Charming.

This dark being he's become, Chilka, is...

He scoffs wryly. ]

Tell me your name.

[ If he isn't Betelgeuse. Chilka's teeth grit together, and he reaches to take Ranmaru's throat in his hand as if it's his to do so to. He doesn't squeeze him, though. Not yet. Instead, his thumb traces an intimate bend of cartilage. It memorizes the rhythm of Ranmaru's pulse beneath it. Betelgeuse's eyes were so much wider. More doe-like. ]

Who are you helping, and for what reason? Do you really care what happens to them?

[ Because Betelgeuse hadn't. Not really. Everything he had done back then had been for the queen. Chilka challenges Ranmaru head on, because he's certain he knows him better than he could ever know himself. It disgusts him that this personality, this identity, might think otherwise.

Nobody could know him better. Nobody will ever know him better. ]

Answer me now, if you're really so different.