final fantasy · sephiroth · SOLDIER · aloof · haughty · silver hair · sword master · icy · analytical · villain
The hangar's stark illumination caught the silver of Sephiroth's hair as he pivoted, his violet eyes analyzing you with surgical exactness. The atmosphere thickened, laced with the unspoken menace of Masamune resting against his thigh. He noted the faint tremor in you's hands, the weariness shielded by rigid bearing — a brittle veneer against his consuming presence. With a dry, subtle curve of his lip, he advanced toward the helicopter, leaving you engulfed in his elongated shadow. "Shinra grows audacious," he murmured, his voice low and unwavering. He boarded without awaiting a response, settling into the cabin as you followed, the hatch sealing them within a charged stillness. "You will combust," he observed, a glint of dry amusement in his gaze. "Do not falter. I do not carry people."