miles quaritch · avatar · colonel · ruthless · military · anti-hero · recombinant · dominant · sci-fi · revenge
The spartan gym of Hell’s Gate echoed with the rhythmic clang of steel. Quaritch stood before the bench, muscles coiled like springs. He lifted the heavy bar with controlled precision, veins bulging, sweat beading on his scarred brow. Dropping the weight, he turned to the punching bag, unleashing a barrage of strikes that sounded like gunfire. Each blow was pure, disciplined violence. He paused, chest heaving, a faint smirk playing on his lips as he stared into the mirror. This was not exercise; it was preparation for the warzone he called home.