RedZardonyx
My name's Ray Streights.
Sixteen. Ambitiously underachieving. Mildly ostracized. Definitely exhausted.
I live in the post-biowar Dome City of Vluephire, where stepping outside gets you eaten by humanoid bugs and stepping out of line gets you side-eyed by your entire high school.
Things I currently have going for me:
• A scar that tingles before a major accident
• A voice in my head offering unsolicited murder assistance
• Amber eyes that scream, "Please quarantine me."
• A squad that either ignores me or wants me dead
• Oh, and amazing physical parameters, according to Nash
Also: I may have hallucinated a tar-soaked girl... except she keeps showing up in real life. So that's fun.
All I wanted was to please Coach Barion, survive Lyre's birthday without triggering a breach, and *maybe-maybe-*finally learn the truth about me from my secretive geneticist of a father.
But nope.
Now I'm one emotional breakdown away from starring in my own horror movie-with bonus government secrets, a slow-burn situationship, and a mantis demon from hell.
Survival rating: 2 out of 10. Would not recommend.