[He yelped as his hair was grabbed, and it took him a moment to see what was in front of him, but when he does his eyes go wide.

Everything came flooding back. The fight with the Traveller, the years of experimentation under Dottore, the betrayals in his youth, the centuries of hunting down the Blacksmiths, and picking them off. Ensuring they suffered throughout the generations.

Slowly he reached up to take the painfully familiar object in his hands to stare at it. Then he started to laugh, that painfully unsettling laugh. Of course... of course he couldn't even have his lie. That would be too good for him wouldn't it? No, Kanoa was to just be another victim of the Balladeer, like so many others.

Or so he told himself. Much like how he couldn't completely suppress who he was back home, he couldn't force away the fresh and soft memories and emotions that were left waiting for him him here.]

I have no name. I'm just another abject failure. A discarded milksop. I am nothing anymore.

[His grip tightened on the tube and he twisted it in his hands, shredding it away from it's metal base.]

But I assume the answer you want to hear out of me is "The Balladeer".