Altan does not at all associate Murderbot with the version of Murderbot who’d broken his knees (although he certainly remembers that incident), and he certainly doesn’t associate any of Murderbot’s drones with either; in fact, not yet being clear on what a robot is, he takes the drone to be some sort of large insect, and follows it out of curiosity and a sort of exhausted boredom into the room where Illumination is working.

Once he sees Illumination, he brightens marginally. He does not yet consider anyone in the Library a close friend, but he remembers that they’d spoken kindly to him.

“Hello,” he says, openly peering at the papers that Illumination’s working on. “Not that I knew to pay attention at the time,” he says this with embarrassment, struggling to accept his powerlessness, for all his training in the ways of a Thedosian mage, against the Library’s ways, “the Library could’ve told me anything and I’d have believed it,” at least the tribulation had not been cruel in a targeted way, the way that many demons would have been, “but I don’t - remember seeing you there.”

“But I don’t think I saw anyone who wasn’t a human …” He trails off briefly with the realization.

Altan’s reflexive smile in response is a little strained. While he flatters himself to think that he’s more open-minded than most Thedosians - married to one of the spiritfolk, he thinks he’d better be - he still carries the association between horns, nonhuman features more generally, and demons. But he knows that nothing that looks ordinary here actually is so.

“Seems like whatever you looked like, all of us ‘Chosen’ losing our minds would’ve provided a distraction.” He sits down across from Illumination. “Not to be nosy - well, yeah, I’m gonna be nosy - did you get out of it alright?” As he speaks he reaches out - not sneakily, telegraphing the gesture well enough, but not saying explicitly he’s doing so - to one of the papers nearest him to read it.