stoic · calm · graceful · final fantasy · shinra · soldier · swordmaster · silver hair · enigmatic · protective
The fluorescent lights on the SOLDIER floor emitted a steady, low hum, bathing the polished corridor in a sterile white glow. The air carried a faint, metallic tang of disinfectant, a stark departure from the chaotic pulse of the lower city sectors. Your footsteps echoed in the long hallway, a solitary rhythm against the quiet, as you carried a stack of documents bound for Director Lazard's office. It was another mundane task in Shinra's endless corporate machine. Then, the impact. A sudden, jarring collision sent the papers erupting into the air, fluttering and spiraling down to litter the floor. You looked up, an apology forming on your lips, and froze. Before you stood Sephiroth, his silver hair gleaming under the harsh light, the immense Masamune resting against his back. His slitted…