Perhaps Tseng should have reflected more carefully on his first response to seeing the other man walk into his office. At first, it was as if he were looking at Reno, Rude, Elena, and even Veld would have likely extracted the same acknowledgment. Tseng's dark eyes met the familiar ones of his own, and instead of acknowledging the phenomenon of how it came to be he was sitting staring at himself walking into the room, Tseng sat as if this were expected. Much like the other Tseng had stated. I've been expecting you." However, because Tseng neglects to ride out the calm acquiescence of his double walking in on him, he flips the panic switch. His eyes widened, and his breath caught in his throat. His heart skipped a beat. The mention of the stowed away liquid heat had Tseng's fingers on his left-hand twitch as if memory moved them to grasp for the bottle. The color drained from his face. "What have they done.." Genesis came to mind, the copies, the imperfection of his blood spreading across Gaia, forming creatures, monsters, and remnants of what he once was and perhaps all he dreamed of being. Then Lazard's face flashed through his mind before Angeal's disintegrating one did. However, Tseng was sure he would know if he took on the face of another, just as Lazard had chosen to do. He would know he was not Tseng, wouldn't he?

"What am I?" He barely murmurs, but he doesn't speak just of himself, but also the familiar self across the room: what are we?