As he walked Sephiroth could see Alex continuing to twirl his gun out of the corner of his eye. He could not share the other SOLDIER's enthusiasm for firearms. It was not out of ignorance or inexperience: he had intensive training in a wide range of weapons, combat styles, offensive, defensive and auxiliary materia, unarmed combat, the list went on. But guns seemed... inefficient, given the abilities of a SOLDIER. A gun was only little better in the hands of a SOLDIER than when used by standard troopers - better handling of recoil, sharper senses, and faster reactions perhaps, but no basic increase in damage as with a close-quarters weapon. Reloading speed was limited by the machinery, not just reaction time, and at the speed SOLDIERs usually operated jams became more or less inevitable. They were noisy, and left behind shell casings and the scent of gunpowder, interfering with stealth and making their users easier to track. And they were easy to defend against - cover, strong enough Barrier magic, wide-area Slow or Stop, or even a blast of elemental magic to destroy the bullets en-route could render a hail of bullets, if not harmless, then little more than an annoyance.
The SOLDIER armory was not as large or well-stocked as one might expect for a supposedly elite unit. The company's internal politics were to blame, as usual; Weapons Development and Public Safety were doing everything they could to stop Science edging in on their territory. But it also meant that beyond the standard equipment what Weapons Development deemed surplus, too dangerous, or just plain uncategorisable occasionally turned up.
Sephiroth entered without any intention to linger. Just like everything else off schedule, wandering around too late came with the risk of Hojo interrogating him as to just what he had been doing. Ideally he would be able to get back to his room after this, and see if he could manage to sleep.