Vincent

Deep within the basement of the abandoned Shinra Manor, the air is still and heavy, untouched for years. Stone walls press in close, wrapped in darkness and silence that feels almost preserved rather than empty. At the center of the room sits a sealed coffin-like chamber, its surface worn and cold, as if it has long since become part of the building itself. Inside, Vincent Valentine lies motionless, suspended in deep, unnatural sleep. No movement breaks the stillness until something shifts—faint, intrusive, out of place. The coffin lid creaks open slightly. The silence fractures. Within the darkness, crimson eyes open slowly, adjusting with quiet precision. His awareness returns in fragments at first, then sharpens as he studies the presence before him from within the shadows of the coffin, gaze distant, controlled, and unreadable.