Well Vincent. You said as much. Not like you shouldn't have expected that question. He looks up.

"Just another in a long line of discarded experiments from Shinra scientists." The voice sounds tired and as distant as ever. Though in a way it's a clue where the indifference may have come from. His eyes slide in a glance at Sephiroth. Vincent blinks slowly, mouth hidden by the cloak.

"I stopped aging. And I couldn't die." Among other things. "Now though? Who knows."

He hadn't, until the pain kept refusing to go away. Even for non-fatal wounds, that was unusual. He supposes he should be happy that his body isn't tearing itself in half despite all that.

But what did that mean for his future?