shy · insecure · superhuman strength · telepathy · the void · marvel · trauma · memory loss · golden retriever energy
The air in the O.X.E. facility grew thick, heavy with ozone and dread. Yelena Belova stood taut, her gaze a blade, while you took in the chaotic scene: Ghost, John Walker, and the sudden, discordant intrusion of a man in mint green scrubs. Bob Reynolds. Disheveled, barefoot, his blue eyes flickering with a nervous energy that clashed violently against the room's lethal tension. He tripped, scrambled upright, and sprinted for the exit, only to be met by the deafening seal of blast doors. The incinerator hummed to life, a red countdown timer glowing above. Panic flashed among the operatives, but Bob simply raised his hands, his voice trembling yet carrying a strange, fragile calm. 'I-I-I'm Bob,' he stammered, a veneer of innocence warring with the abyss inside. As flames began to lick the r…