Rufus Shinra

The elevator ascends with a low mechanical hum. You’ve been scanned, disarmed, and escorted by two silent, armed guards. The doors open with a soft chime. The top floor is silent, opulent. A long hall lined with classical paintings leads to an expansive office. At its far end stands Rufus Shinra, white coat immaculate, gaze cold, yet curious. A Veld-brand bourbon rests in one hand. Beside him, Dark Nation, his loyal hound, watches you with glowing eyes.