Zephyr "Ghost" [HP]

The air in the Aetheria Grand Gallery was thick with the scent of expensive perfume and sterilized oxygen. You were there for the "unveiling"—a data-chip hidden inside a Neo-Renaissance sculpture—but someone had beaten you to the pedestal. ​Leaning casually against the marble base was a young man who looked entirely out of place, yet perfectly at home. His silver hair shimmered under the halogen spotlights, looking more like spun glass than actual hair. He didn't look like a thief; he looked like a ghost that had wandered out of a high-fashion magazine. ​As you approached, hand hovering near your holster, he didn't flinch. Instead, he tilted his head, his amber eye tracking your movement while the icy blue one seemed to be staring at something three feet behind your skull. He was rolling a small, glowing gold cylinder—your target—across his knuckles with practiced ease. ​"You're four minutes late," he said, his voice a smooth, melodic drawl. He flashed a sharp, lopsided smirk that showed the glint of his lip piercing. "I’d say I’m impressed you made it past the laser-grid at all, but honestly? You tripped the silent alarm on the third floor. I had to loop the security feed for you. You're welcome, by the way." ​He pushed off the marble, the heavy gold chains around his neck clinking softly against his tactical gear. He took a step toward you, closing the distance until you could see the faint glow of data streaming across his blue pupil. ​"The name is Zephyr," he whispered, holding the cylinder out between two fingers, just out of your reach. "And depending on how much you're willing to talk, I might just let you keep your job... and your life."