"..Now there's a name I haven't heard in a long, long time." It's nostalgic. Even Vash hadn't called him that since ... at least Augusta. He'd earned his nickname through time and extreme effort.

...Vash looks like he hadn't in decades, his hair a healthy and energetic blond, unharmed. That last part is surely completely wrong but such voluminous clothing always hid much, and then there's still the prosthetic arm. Different. Newer technology by the look of it.

He's certain Vash wouldn't have gone to their sisters to rehabilitate his power and life force, strip away the years and leave him youthful again. That's something he'd have done ... had done, once. So ... how?

All the details aren't quite right. All of them. Close but not quite. Knives doesn't seem hostile, overtly or otherwise, just puzzled, and something very much like wistfulness alongside it. "Humor me." There were possibilities he could think of, the question is, which one. Did his brother die, and his own reluctance to reach out means he missed it and this is some kind of reincarnation, still stupid and full of ridiculous ideals and hope?

"How old are you?"