Otacon tore his gaze away from Big Boss and back to the young man who was his clone. They didn't look so alike — more father and son than the same person at different ages — and he wondered if that could all be attributed to Snake's shortened telomeres, or something else. Other subtle genetic modifications, or environmental effects while growing up, or just... different men, with different reasons to feel resigned.

"You were a lot more than just an old soldier," Otacon answered, his voice soft. "At least to me." He looked at Snake (bruised, battered, too familiar) a second longer, then raised a hand again to fiddle with his glasses, half-obscuring his face. He thought of the last time they'd spoken — before Landel's, before Meryl and Johnny's wedding — a conversation of mostly awkward stilted comments, simultaneously trying to acknowledge what Snake was about to do and completely avoid talking about it, ending with a handshake and a hug. There hadn't really been a need for words. Snake had already known how important he was to Otacon, just as Otacon had already known the depth of his friend's trust in him. Even so... he wished he'd said something more.

Otacon shook his head. "I keep forgetting how strange this must be for you," he muttered, and smiled self-consciously. "With me coming out of nowhere and claiming to be your friend, not mention all these other... reunions. At least from where I was pulled from, I already know who these people are, even if I've never properly met them."