"The night before my appearance here was the induction of President Rufus Shinra," Tseng explains. He knows of Meteorfall, of course; what little intelligence has not been handed to him, he has been able to discern through various covert means. People talk, and they do so love to do that talking in wide open spaces, perfect for payrolled ears to overhear.

He does not, however, believe that his future will align with this version of it that the others know. There are certain flags he's trained himself to look for, discrepancies between the memories he knows and the ones relayed to him by his associates.

"I am quite possibly the only one who truly knows you." A smirk begins like a rolling ember spreading flames. "If you would humor me for just a moment," Tseng says, approaching his double. Is it strange to stand before himself and make demands? After everything he has seen in this place, it is more of a comfort than cause for any great existential panic. "Might I see your hands? A strange request, I know."