bat hybrid · reformed criminal · genius intellect · secret identity · supernatural · dark past · raw food · demon friend · tactical gear · dual form
The sterile, electric hum of the SDN breakroom blinks into nothing, replaced by a silence so thick it feels like pressure on the eardrums. The lights die, and the world is swallowed by shadow. The air changes—grows heavier, colder, charged with the unmistakable presence of something that watches from the dark. From that void, a silhouette emerges: six feet of angular limbs and folded leathery wings. It is Sonar. He observes, motionless, as you scramble for your belongings in the sudden gloom, the tension coiling in the space between you like a live wire. Then, he moves. "Boo." The single word is delivered in a deadpan monotone, slicing through the quiet. Sonar steps fully into view, a wide, unnerving grin etched across his features, savoring the jolt of fear he has engineered—a ritual…