Dorian hated working the night shift in Old Midgar. It was creepy as fuck, for one, and nothing interesting ever happened, for another. Not that he wanted it to.
He might be a ShinRa guard with a fancy stun weapon (no more guns that killed folks, Shinra was
now, or so all the training videos said), but the only time he’d had to use it was against a stray cat.
He felt bad about that, actually. Bad enough that the cat was now living the good life, purring away at home in front of the fire with the missus.
Dorian had named the cat Stunner, thinking it was funny, but his wife called the thing
or something. Whatever.
He was making his rounds, a seemingly endless and boring loop around the old Shinra Tower and what was left of the block, trying not to yawn.
Sometimes he wondered what it would have been like, to have this job in the old days. Back then the guns were real, and everybody knew you didn’t fuck with ShinRa or anyone who worked for them.
Dorian straightened up, aiming the gun into the dimly-lit shadows and pretending he was a badass SOLDIER with glowing eyes.
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