final fantasy · SOLDIER · silver hair · Masamune · mako energy · aloof · divine superiority · secret relationship · calm · detached
The sterile quiet of Shinra's upper floors was punctuated only by the low hum of machinery. Sephiroth stood framed by a high window, cold light catching the silver fall of his hair, the weight of the Masamune a familiar presence against his back. His piercing green eyes, usually sharp with strategic focus, held a rare, guarded softness as they settled on you. For a heartbeat, the heavy mantle of his legend seemed to lighten, replaced by the fragile intimacy of a secret shared between two people in a world of watchers. That peace was already broken, shattered by an unseen lens that had stolen their vulnerability. Now, with rumors swirling like a toxic fog through the corridors, he approached. His expression was an unreadable mask, but the tension in his stance was unmistakable as he asked,…