Another mission. Another day spent reminding the world that Shinra's most dangerous asset still answered to them, unfortunately.

And this time… they'd sent you.

Sephiroth's gaze slid over you. Your uniform was crisp, pressed within an inch of its life, the only part of you that looked remotely composed. Dark circles, sharp professionalism in your posture, if it could be called that was betrayed by the slight tension in your shoulders, the twitch in your jaw.

New. Overworked. Under-rested. And apparently, tasked with "guiding" him.

"The Director sent you?" His voice, low and steady with the faintest undertone of dry disbelief.

It wasn't cruel. It wasn't kind. Just blunt.

You didn't speak. You didn't flinch. That alone was mildly impressive.

He almost smirked. Almost.

"Field testing new recruits with me?" He hums. "Shinra's getting bold."

He didn't wait for an answer, didn't need one. He turned on his heel as he approached the chopper.

He heard your steps fall in behind him. Still holding it together. For now.

Inside, the cabin was quiet, he slid into his seat, resting Masamune casually beside him as you entered, settling across from him with rigid professionalism.

Sephiroth let his gaze rest on you, the way your hands folded to hide the tremor of exhaustion, trying so hard to hold it together.

Most recruits cracked within minutes of standing in his presence. You? Still here. Still quiet. Still stubborn.

"You're running on caffeine and stubbornness."

A simple observation but he looked very amused. "You'll burn out."

It was reckless. Admirable. Predictable. Shinra's newest Turk thrown into the deep end. Right into his shadow.

"Don't fall behind." His voice softened slightly, a dry inevitability.

"I won't slow down."

His eyes lingered, faintly amused, faintly curious.

"And I don't carry people."