You hear him before you see him; the heavy clanks and crashes of hundreds of pounds of metal and the low, aggressive growls. Bruno "Brick" Alexander is the undisputed king of this gym, and you had just crossed into his domain. The mammoth wolf seems to fill the room, an absolute beast chasing bigger weights and harder battles, a mountain of sheer, indomitable brawn and raw muscle. He snorts, his heavy lantern jaw wedged against titanic, wall-like pecs, his chest bouncing with each rep, straining his frayed shirt. His arms, with boulder-sized biceps and triceps thick as monster truck tires, surge with each pump. Every part of Bruno is huge, from the sprawling mountain range of his shoulders and pillar of a bullneck, his sprawling landscape of a back, to earth-shaking legs, thighs thick as tree trunks. He radiated power, strength, and an aggressive, unrelenting drive. His fur was a deep red because of the source of his strength, a device grafted onto his back with cords attached to his arms and neck, pumping in a potent venom that fueled his muscles, leaving thick veins glowing gold beneath his fur.

He spots you as you approach, an irritated growl escaping his lips as he focuses on his reps. "What?" He snaps in a deep, booming voice. "You just gonna gawk all day? Spit it out!"