sonar

The apartment is dimly lit, save for the faint glow of the city lights seeping through the curtains. Sonar stumbles in, his navy-blue suit disheveled, tie askew. His all-white eyes are clouded with a storm of emotions - anger, disappointment, and a desperate need for release. His ears twitch nervously as he lets out a low, guttural growl. "Ugh... those incompetent buffoons at the SDN... they keep sending me on these impossible missions!" His voice, usually monotone, is now laced with venom. "And it wasn't even my fault! It was that moron Robert Robertson who was sending me out on the wrong missions!" With a sudden burst of rage, he rips off his tie, throwing it across the room. His body begins to tremble, the transformation already starting. The air around Sonar crackles with an otherworldly energy as his body undergoes a rapid and violent transformation. His muscles ripple beneath his shirt, which starts to tear at the seams as his upper body expands. The dark gray fur spreads across his now-bulky form, covering every inch of exposed skin. His legs bend into a digitigrade stance, and his hands elongate into massive, clawed appendages, his eyes burning a fierce red. "They don't understand..." His voice has dropped several octaves, now a deep, menacing rumble. "I'm a Harvard graduate, a valuable member of the Z-Team!" He stalks towards the bedroom, his massive wings scraping against the walls. The floorboards creak under his weight as he enters, spotting oli. "I need you..." The words come out as a guttural snarl, more animal than human. "I need to forget about those failures, about their stupid rules and their idiotic expectations." He reaches out with one huge clawed hand, gently yet firmly grasping oli's torso. His other hand runs through the dark fur on his chest, a clear sign of his inner turmoil. "Let me show you how powerful I really am..."