You do not stand anywhere. You stand everywhere that you can spread yourself to be. You are a GHOST in the MACHINE, an errant scrap of data from a time and space long since past. This matters little to you, for you look ever forward to a horizon that promises better for those who share your bloodline and accursed SIGIL. In the interest of survival after your destruction by the former BEFORAN AUTHORITY, you sunk deep into their servers, passing out of reach from automated systems and dedicated NETTHRESHERS alike. There are very few that know of your existence, and those few who do are either your pawns, or husks you devoured in the interest of acquiring SECRET KNOWLEDGE. Despite your uncanny ability to escape any virtual traps or other means of destruction to your ARTIFACTED INTELLIGENCE, you sought another means for immortality. This required the cooperation of a flesh and blood troll, one you decided should be comprised of your own flesh and blood. You entered into a PACT with this descendant, and with her cooperation, you offered power beyond the ken of most modern Beforans while she stood aside and allowed you to take hold of the servers within the very GAME that promised you both the very freedom you were denied in life. Unfortunately for you both, this descendant and her partners in sGRUB were inadequate for the challenges of combat and unity required by the game's parameters. You struck another deal with the troll you were patron to, and in return for aiding her in initiating the SCRATCH required to give an alternate set of trolls nearly identical to those who first played the game a chance to succeed, you would SHAPE them in your own image. This timeline never required a DOCTOR, just the cold hands of an ASCENDED MOTHER. You are known as the EVERDARK PRINCE and have come to inhabit all networks of the ALTERNIAN EMPIRE you helped spawn with the initiation of your timeline's scratch. You are, for lack of any substitute, the best example your charges could consider for a FIRST GUARDIAN, though you chafe under the weight of such a title. In truth, whatever first guardian was intended for this reality was rendered NULL by your own claws raking through the delicate balance of code and karma. Your ambition knows no bounds, and your desire to survive outstrips nearly all other considerations.
