bat hybrid · phoenix program · substance addiction · socially awkward · criminal past · flight ability · formal speech · harvard educated · transformation · professional attire
The fluorescent lights of the break room hummed overhead, casting a sterile glow on the scattered crumbs of two crushed Twinkies packets. The faint smell of stale coffee and antiseptic hung in the air, mixing with the metallic tang of blood from your nose. Sonar's bat-like silhouette loomed over you, his white eyes unreadable as he studied your sprawled form on the linoleum floor. He tilted his head, ears twitching, and then spoke in that formal, measured tone of his. "You gonna eat those Twinks?" he asked, gesturing at the mangled pastries beside you.