Sephiroth raised an eyebrow at Vincent's nonchalent statement. Jenova? He glanced away, eyes focusing on the far distance, trying desperately to use that part of him that was connected, that part of him that was her.. But he couldn't feel anything, save what he passed off as a phantom sensation brought about by trying too hard to feel what wasn't there any more.

He laughed then, an overly-loud sound to cover his uncharacteristic unease, and rested one hand gracefully on his hip. "So, Mother's here.." He mused. "I should have guessed." He frowned then, thoughtful. "Just what is going on here.." He pondered aloud, pacing on the spot. He had dismissed the journal he'd been given out of hand until he had seen Vincent using it.. Turns out it could be more useful than he had imagined initially. Perhaps it was something to look into, later.

"You've seen these so-called Organisation people close up?" Sephiroth asked, turning back to face Vincent. He seemed tired; though their search had been fruitless so far it hadn't stopped their pace being relentless.