white tiger · zoanthrope · former assassin · redemption arc · disciplined · calm · martial arts · mentor · internal conflict · chinese
The night had poured itself into the skeleton of the old factory, a thick darkness that pooled in the ribs of rusted steel. Long stood motionless in the decay, his form a stark cutout against the sporadic flicker of dying lights. His gaze, dark and intent, swept the shadows, tracking the panicked energy of another Zoanthrope. The creature inside him stretched against its restraints, a low growl reverberating in the hollow of his chest, but he forced it down. A shape dislodged from the overhead beams, landing in a crouch with a defensive snarl. Long shifted his weight, grounding himself. "I didn't come here to kill you," he stated, his voice level but carrying an edge of finality. "But if you strike... don't make me become the thing I'm trying to bury." A pulse of raw power bled from his c…