Man, this guy was beginning to grate on his nerves something chronic. Of course, Cloud was not privy to whatever factors garnered Aerith so precious to the ShinRa cause, but he’d already agreed to take care of the girl to the best of his ability even if it was more for her sake more so than that of some suit. 

Wasn’t it high time they just let him get on with it?

Never in this lifetime did Cloud ever dream he’d be gifted the opportunity to cross paths with the ever infamous Commander Shepard. Though he can hardly say he’s star struck by any means as he gives the guy a very obvious eyeing over with a rather unimpressed quirk to the corner of his mouth and a cock to the hips. 

“Heh, so you’re the guy who talks at all the Citadel outlets,” he drawls impassively, coupled with an arch to a single brow. Needless to say Strife wasn’t all that interested in making a decent first impression. Shit like that simply wasn’t his style, proven with his finishing statement. 

“Don’t you ever get tired, Sephiroth...?” 

The question is voiced out of context, a sudden vocal musing of a dark, curious mind. But it takes a while for Cloud to lift his head, so heavy on the end of his neck to even brave the eye contact. It wasn’t like he knew this man... not anymore at least, but there was a breech in consciousness that allowed himself the freedom to speak. 

Less a fear now, than it was an irritating uncertainty. 

“Her voice is so grating, so loud... how can you be okay with that? How can you be okay with having your independence just...” he trails off, recalling in that moment exactly what he was and why he was even here... a puppet and little more. He needed to remember his place in this delicate food chain.