[He follows, sitting close by Ignis, a hand resting on one of his thighs. The synchrony happens as it always does, and the feeling soothes Albert just a little.]

The most pressing thing...

[He thinks for several long moments. Is it... what he has done to wrong the world? What fate awaits his only family? He can't begin to enumerate every last secret. So he'll start with the part some people here seem to know about.

James Moriarty.]

My brothers and I... most notably William and myself, have been acting as vigilantes of sorts for nearly as long as we've known each other. We are, collectively, James Moriarty, the "Lord of Crime" who terrorizes corrupt nobles across Britain.

[He pauses, feeling ill, his face pale and his stomach churning. It's terrible to admit any of this.]

I... am the financier, the face of sorts, and the most highly trained among us. No one knows our identity who is not in our confidence. Not yet, in my time.

[A breath.]

I've killed more men than I dare admit. Blackmailed and otherwise orchestrated the downfall of others. I'm far from a good man.