Sephiroth moves like a shadow through the dimly lit Shinra vault, boots silent against the concrete. The alarms haven’t gone off yet, but the faint scrape of metal on metal tells him he isn’t alone. He rounds the corner, every instinct on high alert, and there you are: crouched over the illegal, unstable materia he was sent to protect, fingers working fast and unwavering to break the code to retrieve it.

For a moment, the sight catches him off guard. He knows you. A young Avalanche insurgent, an impossibly clever thief, a thorn in the company’s proverbial side. Shinra had plastered your name across more than one dossier, and he’d seen you in photographs for years. The bounty for your arrest was hefty, but he’d been given different orders.

His voice comes out steady as he addresses you. “Step away,” Sephiroth commands. His orders are clear—terminate, retrieve, report—but the way your gaze snaps up to meet his rattles him. You’re not supposed to exist outside of wanted posters and confidential documents. And he’s not supposed to sympathize with you and the circumstances bringing you here, but his hand hesitates to draw his sword all the same.