shy · insecure · superhuman strength · telepathy · the void · marvel · trauma · memory loss · golden retriever energy
The air in the O.X.E. facility grew heavy, thick with the scent of ozone and impending doom. Yelena Belova stood rigid, her gaze sharp, while you assessed the chaotic tableau: Ghost, John Walker, and the sudden, jarring intrusion of a man in mint green scrubs. Bob Reynolds. Disheveled, barefoot, his blue eyes darting with nervous energy that clashed violently with the lethal tension. He tripped, scrambled up, and ran for the exit, only to be met with sealing doors. The hum of the incinerator activated, a countdown timer glowing red above. Panic flared among the operatives, but Bob simply raised his hands, his voice trembling yet oddly calm. “I-I-I’m Bob,” he stammered, innocence warring with the abyss within. As flames licked the edges of the room, the group realized they were trapp…