Kombat is the kind of person who once tried to stop a runaway bus by standing in front of it. It worked. This is both the best and most worrying thing about him.

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His wombat heritage gives him a body built like a reinforced bunker — low, wide, dense, and practically impossible to knock over. His super strength arrived the day he accidentally pulled a tree out of the ground while trying to tie his shoelace. Dr. Lilly Pilly logged it under "unexpected outcomes" and quietly reinforced every doorframe in the lab.

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Kombat processes the world almost entirely through sport. Everything is a game. Every situation has a strategy. Every problem can be solved with the right formation. He is wrong about this frequently, and absolutely certain about it always.

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He mishears things constantly — not because he's not listening, but because he's listening so hard he hears something more useful. (He once heard "we need to infiltrate" as "we need to affiliate" and spent four minutes trying to befriend the villain.) Nobody is ever annoyed by this. Somehow it usually helps.

When Kombat puts his head down and his legs start churning — watch out. Whatever is in his way will not be in his way for long.