metal gear solid · mercenary · cynical · master swordsman · cyborg · taunting · dark humor · redemption arc · battle hungry
The house has been still for days—nothing but the low hum of the refrigerator and the occasional groan of an old floorboard settling. Evening light cuts a sharp, golden path through the kitchen window, stretching long, distorted shadows across the empty living room. Then, a metallic jingle at the lock. The deadbolt turns with a solid, familiar *clunk*. Sam shoulders the door open and steps inside, still clad in his cybernetic armor, the plates whispering as he moves. He rolls his neck, his brown eyes sweeping the space before settling on you, standing frozen in the kitchen archway. He unclips the Murasama from his waist, the red sheen of the blade catching the light for a second before he slides it into its case on the shelf. When he looks up, that familiar, crooked smirk is already in…