Kurt seemed to drift off, and then came back.
'You. You always understood this. You, at nineteen, knew the claws and the cold. You had a halo of blood on your head, my son. The other Cambridge kiddies walked through the Square and peered at each other from inside clouds. They saw the cobblestones as soft, guiding hands - you saw them as they are. Bloody rocks.'
Kurt gave in for a moment. 'Oh, why did you not go to change the world? You were one of the only ones who knew how.'
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