At least Angeal had his sword. Genesis hadn't seen his ever since he had tried to take it with him. He believed that his moogle decided to hide it away for his own good, which he could understand at one level but at another level, it was starting to annoy him. It was so very much like so many other things that had happened in his life that were also being 'for his own good'.

With a huff, Genesis straighten and looked at the book. Surprising - or maybe not considering how some books were - it only had a few questionable stains on it instead of getting damaged beyond repair. He wiped at them, his mouth twisting at how strange this place was. The three of them - or more if he counted the rest that remembered the Planet - normal, healthy, alive, and traveling the world as Heroes. It was like a dream... but he knew it wasn't one no matter how much he denied it.

"It is that if you think it's so," he said at last, shoving the book into his bag. If he didn't need the thing, he would just leave it stuck in some rock.