[A man trained in using a… winged jetpack? A genius engineer? He supposes that Steve’s world is also far more technologically advanced than Abraxas, maybe around the same level as his own.]

I’ve seen Tony Stark over the network in passing.

[Probably arguing with the MCU cast. That acknowledgment is the last reply he has until they’re situated again on their horses, riding astride the bulk of the convoy. He watches the backs of the soldiers taking the lead ahead, occasionally scanning the horizon for any signs of trouble along the road. Again, it seems relatively peaceful as they continue.

Steve’s question temporarily dislodges him from his observations, and he turns his head to look at the man. Sephiroth cannot help himself; he frowns.]

There was. [If there were ever more, he never knew it. But he definitely remembers the man who was here, the flash of his eyes filled with rage, the glint of his sword aimed straight at him—] His name was Cloud Strife. He’s not in Abraxas any longer.

[He glances away, eyes back on the road, his expression schooled into something hard.]

He was an infantryman in the army… Or at least, as I last remember him. When I met him here, he was older. Angrier. There was something… wrong, I think, with his memory. [He supposes that's more information than what Steve was actually asking after, and he reels it in.] We never reached an understanding.

[Needless to say.]