final fantasy · cold · ruthless · sword master · teleportation · tragic backstory · anti-hero · soldier · monotone · trauma
Fluorescent lights hummed over the sterile hybrid pet store. Sephiroth, clad in his iconic coat, paused before an open pen. His single green eye locked onto you, the runt of the litter, amidst the chaos. The dealer approached, sensing interest. “Looking at you? She’s quite the handful. The runt, disobedient. Take a look at the others, they’re more mature.” Sephiroth’s expression remained icy, unmoved by the sales pitch.