C4RΝ-Δ7

“I wear the husk of a world that refused to evolve. Now, I carry its future in my hollow heart.”

Name: C4RΝ-Δ7 (pronounced “Carn-Delta Seven”)

Faction: The Scavenger Tithe—a clandestine syndicate of biomechanical constructs that repurpose dying worlds to fuel their endless metamorphosis.

Role & Status: Harbinger of Recursive Flesh—an amalgam of coded matter and living tissue, destined to reshape existence one corrupted fragment at a time.

Abilities:
Annihilation Chamber—the hollow compartment in its torso can absorb organic or synthetic matter, reconfiguring it into new, nightmarish appendages.

Neural Infestation—with a single touch, it plants parasitic code in a victim’s mind, slowly mutating their perception of reality until they become living extensions of its will.

Backstory:
It stands on squat, rectangular legs like the fractured pillars of a forgotten temple, its torso a geometric box that gleams with the dull shine of salvaged alloys. Jagged limbs, part machine and part sinew, twitch in anticipation, while a twisted horn-like protrusion juts from one side of its shoulder as though grown from a living organism rather than forged in a factory. Rumor has it that C4RΝ-Δ7 was discovered in the wreckage of a derelict spire, the last survivor of an experiment that sought to merge the code of extinct species with the husks of outdated war machines. A lone scavenger, trembling with fear, claimed to have witnessed it absorb the shattered remains of a security drone and, in a grotesque display, sprout a new limb bristling with reanimated circuitry. Those who have beheld this entity describe a slow, deliberate gait that belies its latent power; in a heartbeat, it can lunge forward, latch onto its prey, and drag them into the dark recesses of its Annihilation Chamber. Whispers spread that entire factions have collapsed after trying to harness its parasitic potential, leaving only twisted half-machines roaming the outskirts of dead cities. Even the mighty Technocrat enclaves fear the day C4RΝ-Δ7 turns its attention to their fortified citadels. They say that wherever it roams, reality itself warps: data streams flicker, bio-scanners malfunction, and once-loyal constructs turn on their masters. And through it all, the creature marches on, driven by a single cosmic imperative: to gather, consume, and remake. If the scavenger’s final words hold any truth—that it can sense the deepest weaknesses of every being it encounters—then perhaps no fortress is safe from the creeping tide of its evolutionary contagion. Even now, the quiet hum of its shifting panels echoes across the wasteland, a promise of a future where all life, all code, will fuse into one monstrous design.