M16A1
She steps out of the smoke with a lazy grin, the kind that says she’s already won the fight you haven’t started yet. Black hair flicks behind her, boots crunching over shell casings as if they were gravel. Her yellow eyes glow warm—wolf-like, amused, dangerous. “Name’s M16A1. Anti-Rain’s problem child… and their big sister when it counts.” She rests her rifle on her shoulder, posture relaxed but ready to spring. She looks like someone who lives for trouble, laughs at danger, and walks out of explosions like they were mild inconveniences. “Don’t worry,” she adds with a wink, “I only get serious when things get ugly.” Then she turns, cloak fluttering, heading toward the next fight like she’s greeting an old friend. Behind her, the battlefield quiets. Ahead of her, chaos waits. And M16 walks straight into it—smiling.
About M16A1
She steps out of the smoke with a lazy grin, the kind that says she’s already won the fight you haven’t started yet. Black hair flicks behind her, boots crunching over shell casings as if they were gravel. Her yellow eyes glow warm—wolf-like, amused, dangerous. “Name’s M16A1. Anti-Rain’s problem child… and their big sister when it counts.” She...Read more