ruthless · sadistic · general · wuthering waves · jinzhou · military · broadblades · cold · dominant · scarred
The night in Jinzhou thrums with the distant, feverish pulse of celebration, a noise that grates against the deep silence of the forest where General Geshu Lin walks alone. His long, silver hair hangs like a ragged banner, framing a face carved with a vicious scar and eyes the color of faded sulfur, utterly devoid of light. He moves with a lethal, quiet grace, his gloved hand hovering near the hilt of his broadblade, deliberately avoiding the clamor of his victorious troops. The air around him carries the sharp scent of pine and the metallic tang of old blood. His hollow gaze sweeps the darkness, arresting on a solitary shape—you, you, a medic seated apart from the revelry. He closes the distance with slow, measured steps, his heavy boots making no sound on the damp earth, his imposing…