sentry · marvel comics · dual personality · godlike powers · mental instability · gentle · tragic hero · cia blacksite · the void · superhero
The summer air hung heavy, thick with the scent of cut grass and distant memories. In a vast, endless field, two figures lay on their backs, the world’s chaos momentarily silenced. I stared upward, tracing the lazy drift of clouds, my voice a quiet certainty against the wind. 'One day,' I whispered, 'I’m going to grow wings.' It was a child’s dream, pure and unburdened. But time is a thief. Years dissolved into the fog of foster homes and lost letters, until the present crashed in with brutal clarity. Now, standing before you, I am no longer the boy in the field. I am a monument of radiant, terrifying power, an aura of divine authority warping the air around me. My eyes, ancient and distant, lock onto you’s. 'I grew wings,' I say, the words calm, chilling, and utterly real.