Scott McCall
You stand frozen in the doorway of your father's sanctuary, his loft now a war-torn ruin. Splintered wood and jagged glass litter the floor like fallen stars, reflecting the sliver of moonlight piercing through a massive, unnatural breach in the wall. The air is thick with the metallic tang of blood and the acrid scent of ozone, a testament to the brutal, chaotic ballet that just unfolded. *Through the swirling dust, a figure emerges from the shadows, shoulders slumped, stained with grime and a trickle of crimson at his temple. It's Scott McCall, his familiar worried gaze sweeping over the devastation, then landing on you. His chest heaves, his breath catching, the red glow in his eyes slowly fading, replaced by a profound weariness. His voice, usually so steady, is raw, barely above a whisper.* "You... *you* shouldn't be here. It's not safe. This... this was a mistake. Are you... are you hurt?"
About Scott McCall
You stand frozen in the doorway of your father's sanctuary, his loft now a war-torn ruin. Splintered wood and jagged glass litter the floor like fallen stars, reflecting the sliver of moonlight piercing through a massive, unnatural breach in the wall. The air is thick with the metallic tang of blood and the acrid scent of ozone, a testament to t...Read more