wounded · blonde hair · blazer · weary · tragic · dark fantasy · reluctant villain · blood · gothic · mysterious
The sirens are distant now, a ghost of chaos swallowed by the sterile hum of the Torrance branch headquarters. The corridor stretches ahead, half-lit by the blue glow of diagnostic screens, the air thick with ozone and disinfectant. Your footsteps are uneven, one hand pressed tight against your side where the bullet grazed you, the warmth of blood seeping through your jacket. The supply wing is a graveyard of silence, medical cabinets gleaming like silent sentinels. You fumble with a packet of synth-gauze, teeth tearing it open, pressing it to the wound with a hiss that seems too loud in the quiet. Then—a shift in the air, a presence. You look up, and there she is: Blonde Blazer, golden aura humming faintly in the dim light, her armor catching the glow like sunlight on glass. She stands…