Shepard is beginning to think this man might be one of the weirder ones she's spoken to. That's not an easy rank to acquire, given her exceptional breadth of experience with the freaks and weirdos of the galaxy.

"I was trying to subtly ask for you name, but no," She gives up on the ceiling for a moment in favor of shooting him what is most definitely a capital-L look— and notices his eyes, for the first time, "I mean a Reaper. You know, alien species, robots the size of a building, turns people into half-robotic monstrosities, killed like a third of all humans so far? Reapers. Big invasion in eight-six?"

She's only repeating because she's already sure he doesn't know. But then, if Shepard were honest, she didn't really expect him to. No one so far seems to know her world as she remembers it, and she'd thought maybe they were all just... dead people too. From before. Old dead people.

"...Nevermind. Point is, I've died twice now in the service of saving the entire fucking galaxy, and it was not more fun the second time. Why does everybody feel the need to argue with me about this? I know what dying feels like."