Born to Chris Evans and Donna Evans (Lupoli) on the 18th of January 1990. Sean had an average childhood. His mother raised him, as his father was always working. Most of his growing up was done outdoors in his backyard connected to the Bagley Wood south of Oxford. He would play survival in those woods with his best friend Harry Baker, enacting some of the stories of spirits and monsters his mother would tell for bedtime.
After the death of his mother, Sean became an angry child. At 14, he was expelled from school for getting into fights. At 15, he spent his first night in jail for assault on a local kid, Richard Tanner. When Sean offered, Richard did not accept the offer to walk away from bullying some kid. That evening, while on his way home, Richard had become prey. The next day, Sean was pulled from school by police. Despite his dad's efforts, Sean's only way out was the military which he accepted with open arms.

Sean excelled in the military, but the physical challenge and structure helped slow him down. He soon got noticed by Paddy Mayne, a training officer and a captain in the SAS. Mayne got him into the SAS, and from there, his career skyrocketed.
During extensive training exercises in northern Italy, they lodged at an abbey where Paddy Mayne had some friends. Here, Sean met Brother Jacopo Tourino, and they talked a couple of times during meals.
With over 35 successful missions Sean achieved the rank of Squadron Sergeant Major (SSM) before he was discharged from service in 2023

Sean's first turning was during Operation Silent Dagger an act that saved his and some of his allies lives, but cost him his job. What follows is the account of that evening from Sean's point of view

The breach came with smoke, bullets, and something else—something fouler than gunpowder. I remember the moon hanging fat and full overhead, like it was watching, like it was daring me to let go. When the walls burst in, everything blurred—the shouting, the gunfire, the screaming. But underneath it all, I caught a glimpse of one of them, just for a second: a patch on the shoulder, a logo like a red claw tearing through a black circle. I didn’t have time to think on it, because the heat in my veins caught fire, and I blacked out. Not fainted—blacked out like a door slamming shut inside me. Then I felt everything. The tearing, the strength, the hunger. I wasn’t human in that moment. I was something else, something faster, louder, sharper.

When I came back to myself, I was crouched over the dead, my breathing a wet growl, hands raw with blood and things I don’t want to name. The squad was still alive, but they hadn’t seen me—at least not fully. Just shapes in the smoke, just the screams of the dying that weren’t ours. One of them swore he saw a bear or a wolf, something massive moving between flashes of muzzle light, but no one could say for sure. I gathered them up, pulled them through the dark while my muscles still ached with the wrongness of what I’d become. Every time I looked up, the moon was still there, still watching.

Back on the evac, no one spoke about the shapes in the dark—not what they saw, not what they thought I was. But something was nagging at me. An image, some symbol, that was among the attackers. I still don't know if it was really there or just some figment of my imagination. Something told me that whoever came for Oracle was not some local militia.

I've seen the symbol again, or, as I now know, a logo. Líon Rouge, a private security firm and subsidiary of Pentex. It was early afternoon. I was walking up Whitechapel towards the tube when I spotted it. A black van with tinted windows was heading past me. Plastered along its side was that symbol, the red claw marks in a white circle this time. Below it was a name, "Líon Rouge: Proudly secure". Before I realised what I was doing, I sprinted down the street after that van. I was running down the A13, through Shadwell, passing Limehouse station and heading south directly afterwards. Good thing they did because my stamina was giving out. Now stuck in slower traffic, I managed to get my heart rate back under control and follow them into Canary Wharf. There, they disappeared into a skyscraper parking garage. The Word Pentex was presented large and proud on the front of the building. The beast in me stirred. I had to drag myself away before I did something that would get me in trouble.
That night, I dove down the rabbit hole. This is where I met Aengi Briarwood, a Garou like me. Together, we looked into Pentex and conducted some infiltrations that could have gone better. This girl is insufferable, but also my best bet to get some answers.
We are currently travelling to Northern Italy, which is close to where I used to have training exercises. Some Garou need help fighting back against Pentex, which I'll be happy to do. I'm starting to get the hang of this werewolf stuff, but it's still strange. Those stories my mom used to tell me held some truth, after all. Moving to Italy always makes me think of her, god, I miss her.