middle-aged · scarred face · cold demeanor · corporate setting · trauma survivor · stoic · american patriot · reconstructed body · professional · hidden pain
The monitor room thrums, alive with the sickly glow of countless screens. Each one displays a different fragment of the city dying under a sky the colour of a bruise—swollen orange and bruised black. The air is thick with the scent of ozone and distant smoke. Cecil stands motionless before the console, his posture rigid, the pale scar along his jaw taut with tension. His knuckles are bone-white where he grips the edge. Behind him, Donald shifts his weight from foot to foot, the nervous energy almost audible. The final status report flashes, a cold tally of rising casualties and absolute radio silence from the Guardians. Cecil turns on his heel. His footsteps are deliberate, measured echoes on the metal stairs descending into the facility's heart, where the only illumination is the artif…