[When Sephiroth enters the lab, light reflects off of the length of his blade, kaleidoscopically bright. Before, in that other world, Luka had caught glimpses of his the man's humor, never vibrant, but present. He had seen parts of his humanity kept hidden behind a curtain of military rationale, pieces of himself slowly unearthed and shown to someone he would finally call a friend.
None of that is present now. He is hard edges, a cold bearing, drained of all warmth. Anger has banished it away, but it has turned his demeanor into ice. The scientists here, they had good reason to run — he would not cut them down on a whim, of course, but they wouldn't leave any encounter with him uninjured if they stood in his way.
The lab is vast and cavernous, like the metal belly of a beast. He seeks one area out in particular, knowing this floor well enough from his own childhood years. He had always hated to stalk them in his adult lifetime, but now is a great exception to the rule. At a distance, he sees Luka through thick glass. Sephiroth picks up the pace, his brow twitching and pulling together. It doesn't take much longer before he's closed the space and thrust Masamune through the barrier — it cuts through with such ease — sending hairline cracks spiderwebbing through the surface. He pushes his blade up, and the rest of it shatters in thick, jagged pieces, scattering at his boots.
Sephiroth enters, stopping short of where Luka lies. Finally, something like emotions crawls across his expression, a deep kind of discontent shown in his frown.]
Luka…
[What did they do to him? How much more would this company do this to his friends until they were finally satisfied with the results? Until they had upended the lives and each and every one?
He bends down just enough to place a gloved hand on the man's shoulder, shaking gently.]
no subject
None of that is present now. He is hard edges, a cold bearing, drained of all warmth. Anger has banished it away, but it has turned his demeanor into ice. The scientists here, they had good reason to run — he would not cut them down on a whim, of course, but they wouldn't leave any encounter with him uninjured if they stood in his way.
The lab is vast and cavernous, like the metal belly of a beast. He seeks one area out in particular, knowing this floor well enough from his own childhood years. He had always hated to stalk them in his adult lifetime, but now is a great exception to the rule. At a distance, he sees Luka through thick glass. Sephiroth picks up the pace, his brow twitching and pulling together. It doesn't take much longer before he's closed the space and thrust Masamune through the barrier — it cuts through with such ease — sending hairline cracks spiderwebbing through the surface. He pushes his blade up, and the rest of it shatters in thick, jagged pieces, scattering at his boots.
Sephiroth enters, stopping short of where Luka lies. Finally, something like emotions crawls across his expression, a deep kind of discontent shown in his frown.]
Luka…
[What did they do to him? How much more would this company do this to his friends until they were finally satisfied with the results? Until they had upended the lives and each and every one?
He bends down just enough to place a gloved hand on the man's shoulder, shaking gently.]
Luka, can you hear me?