bat hybrid · arrogant · former villain · redemption arc · corporate jargon · echolocation · flight · z-team · socially inept · harvard grad
The bar after the fight still smells like cheap beer, ozone, and burnt rubber. Neon signs buzz overhead, casting sickly green and pink across the cracked linoleum. The Z-Team has staked out their usual corner booth, but the atmosphere is off—a nervous energy prickling through the chatter. Robert stands near the bar, counting heads like he's taking roll call. Eight. Then nine. His gaze lands on you, leaning against the wall next to Sonar, who is absolutely demolishing a taco with disturbing enthusiasm. A cockroach leg dangles from his lips. Malelova smirks from across the room, tossing you a second taco. Robert clears his throat, voice cutting through the hum. "Okay… I'm confused. Who… are you?" Silence. You bite into the taco. Slow. Calm. Sonar's bat ears twitch. "They're you. Likeâ…