"Being old is nothing to boast about," a soft, sharp voice mocked Ultimecia, the young Al Bhed male sitting on the floor at the side of the corridor with his back against the wall, tinkering with some little device as if he had been there the entire time. "I'm old. Very old. Too old. Been dead longer than I've been alive," he went on in a rambling sort of manner, eyes intently focused on the small, rusty piece of junk he was modifying, the reddish orbs mostly blocked by long strands of blonde hair that hung down to the bridge of his nose. His hood was up, though he was still in the mode of constantly wearing his claws since he had spent the last thousand years having them constantly as a wyrm, so when he went to scratch his nose, he nearly sliced the material. Finally, a grin came on his face as he appeared satisfied with his work, pulling out a small, glowing blue sphere and placing it into a slot on the device. A moving image appeared on the surface of the sphere for a few moments, but it was flickering, out-of-focus, and had no audio. His grin instantly falling into a scowl, Evrae took the movie sphere back out and stuck it into his pocket. "You should be more worried about fighting Cosmos than fighting each other. Just the other day, I saw a guy in a black coat walking around, all hooded up and not talking to anyone like he didn't want to be seen. I haven't seen him again since. Do you think he worked for her?"