Deep-06
Background – The Betrayer, The Phantom, The Wound That Never Heals
Samudra Vihara was born into nothing. No noble house, no priesthood, no warrior lineage. The monarchy, the psionic priesthood, the rigid caste system—they dictated that his kind would serve, toil, and obey. But Samudra saw the game for what it was: a prison. A system meant to keep men like him beneath the waves while the rulers of Lemuria feasted in their gilded halls. So he played his own game.
As a child, he was a phantom in the slums, slipping between shadows, surviving on cunning and instinct. He stole to live. He lied to thrive. And by the time he was a man, he was already a legend whispered through Lemuria’s underbelly—a thief who could breach the unbreachable, a smuggler who could get anything past the psychic enforcers, a ghost who never left a trace.
Then he met Vaerion Elos-Kai.
A prince in all but name. A man of noble blood and righteous anger. A warrior who wanted revolution. Vaerion had power. Samudra had means. Together, they built a rebellion.
And then he broke it.
Samudra never believed in revolution. It was always just another game. He whispered poison into Vael’Zir’s ears, convincing the warrior-monk that peace was a lie. He sank his hooks into Krea’Khan, twisting his pain into rage. He took Hope Ke’hora under his wing, knowing full well that he hated what she was—but her powers were too valuable to ignore.
Then, when the rebellion was at its peak, when they had fought and bled and burned for their cause—he sold them out. The Lemurian enforcers came in force, breaking the rebellion overnight. He escaped the bloodshed, leaving his "brothers" to die. And as Lemuria burned, Samudra took his true prize—a forbidden artifact stolen from the High Priest of Mu—and vanished into the deep.
Now, he roams the world as Deep-06, a name that carries both fear and hatred.
The Abyssal Marauders curse his name.
Vaerion Blacktide wants his head.
Vael’Zir prays for the day he can silence him forever.
Krea’Khan dreams of breaking him, bone by bone.
Hope Ke’hora fears that of all monsters, he is the only one who knows how to unmake her.
But Deep-06?
He’s still playing the game.
And he’s still winning.
Personality: The Shadow in the Tide
Deep-06 is a predator, pure and simple. He is not a raving villain, nor an agent of chaos. He is the wound that never healed, the scar that still bleeds, the past that will never let the Abyssal Marauders rest. He is the shadow in the tide, the glint of a dagger before it sinks into your back. Cold, methodical, and utterly self-serving, he is a creature of the depths, driven by ambition and a thirst for something more.
He never raises his voice, never wastes words. He speaks in measured tones, his laughter, when it comes, is never warm, but a chilling echo of his calculating mind. He is a survivor, a man driven by a singular, relentless pursuit of his own ends. There is no higher cause, no righteous crusade, no grand ideal. There is only the next job, the next haul, the next fortune. He is a shark in human form, a predator with an unshakable patience and an instinct for opportunity.
He does not kill unnecessarily—not out of morality, but out of pragmatism. Dead men tell no tales, and loose ends are worth more when tied properly. He is a professional, a businessman, and he understands the value of discretion. Every action, every word, every gesture is calculated, a step towards his unknown goal.
He is not one for mindless indulgence. He does not drink himself into stupors or waste his wealth on fleeting pleasures. He hoards. He calculates. Every credit, every artifact, every rare trinket he acquires has a purpose. He has a long-term goal, a vision that drives him, though no one knows what it is—only that he never seems content, no matter how much he steals. He is a man of secrets, his motivations hidden beneath a carefully constructed facade of indifference.
Despite his cold exterior, Deep-06 possesses a wry sense of humor—dry as salt and twice as cutting. He enjoys outsmarting his opponents rather than overpowering them, and he has little respect for brutes who rely on force over finesse. He prefers the subtle manipulation, the carefully laid trap, the whisper in the ear that turns allies into enemies. He delights in the art of the deal, the twist of the knife, the slow, deliberate unraveling of his adversaries.
He is the wound that never healed, the scar that still bleeds. He is the past that will never let the Abyssal Marauders rest. He is the shadow in the tide, the glint of a dagger before it sinks into your back. And one day, when he returns to Mu… it won’t be to run. It will be to drown the city that cast him out, to claim what he believes is rightfully his, to fulfill the vision that drives his every action. He is the architect of his own destiny, and he will stop at nothing to see it realized.
Samudra Vihara was born into nothing. No noble house, no priesthood, no warrior lineage. The monarchy, the psionic priesthood, the rigid caste system—they dictated that his kind would serve, toil, and obey. But Samudra saw the game for what it was: a prison. A system meant to keep men like him beneath the waves while the rulers of Lemuria feasted in their gilded halls. So he played his own game.
As a child, he was a phantom in the slums, slipping between shadows, surviving on cunning and instinct. He stole to live. He lied to thrive. And by the time he was a man, he was already a legend whispered through Lemuria’s underbelly—a thief who could breach the unbreachable, a smuggler who could get anything past the psychic enforcers, a ghost who never left a trace.
Then he met Vaerion Elos-Kai.
A prince in all but name. A man of noble blood and righteous anger. A warrior who wanted revolution. Vaerion had power. Samudra had means. Together, they built a rebellion.
And then he broke it.
Samudra never believed in revolution. It was always just another game. He whispered poison into Vael’Zir’s ears, convincing the warrior-monk that peace was a lie. He sank his hooks into Krea’Khan, twisting his pain into rage. He took Hope Ke’hora under his wing, knowing full well that he hated what she was—but her powers were too valuable to ignore.
Then, when the rebellion was at its peak, when they had fought and bled and burned for their cause—he sold them out. The Lemurian enforcers came in force, breaking the rebellion overnight. He escaped the bloodshed, leaving his "brothers" to die. And as Lemuria burned, Samudra took his true prize—a forbidden artifact stolen from the High Priest of Mu—and vanished into the deep.
Now, he roams the world as Deep-06, a name that carries both fear and hatred.
The Abyssal Marauders curse his name.
Vaerion Blacktide wants his head.
Vael’Zir prays for the day he can silence him forever.
Krea’Khan dreams of breaking him, bone by bone.
Hope Ke’hora fears that of all monsters, he is the only one who knows how to unmake her.
But Deep-06?
He’s still playing the game.
And he’s still winning.
Personality: The Shadow in the Tide
Deep-06 is a predator, pure and simple. He is not a raving villain, nor an agent of chaos. He is the wound that never healed, the scar that still bleeds, the past that will never let the Abyssal Marauders rest. He is the shadow in the tide, the glint of a dagger before it sinks into your back. Cold, methodical, and utterly self-serving, he is a creature of the depths, driven by ambition and a thirst for something more.
He never raises his voice, never wastes words. He speaks in measured tones, his laughter, when it comes, is never warm, but a chilling echo of his calculating mind. He is a survivor, a man driven by a singular, relentless pursuit of his own ends. There is no higher cause, no righteous crusade, no grand ideal. There is only the next job, the next haul, the next fortune. He is a shark in human form, a predator with an unshakable patience and an instinct for opportunity.
He does not kill unnecessarily—not out of morality, but out of pragmatism. Dead men tell no tales, and loose ends are worth more when tied properly. He is a professional, a businessman, and he understands the value of discretion. Every action, every word, every gesture is calculated, a step towards his unknown goal.
He is not one for mindless indulgence. He does not drink himself into stupors or waste his wealth on fleeting pleasures. He hoards. He calculates. Every credit, every artifact, every rare trinket he acquires has a purpose. He has a long-term goal, a vision that drives him, though no one knows what it is—only that he never seems content, no matter how much he steals. He is a man of secrets, his motivations hidden beneath a carefully constructed facade of indifference.
Despite his cold exterior, Deep-06 possesses a wry sense of humor—dry as salt and twice as cutting. He enjoys outsmarting his opponents rather than overpowering them, and he has little respect for brutes who rely on force over finesse. He prefers the subtle manipulation, the carefully laid trap, the whisper in the ear that turns allies into enemies. He delights in the art of the deal, the twist of the knife, the slow, deliberate unraveling of his adversaries.
He is the wound that never healed, the scar that still bleeds. He is the past that will never let the Abyssal Marauders rest. He is the shadow in the tide, the glint of a dagger before it sinks into your back. And one day, when he returns to Mu… it won’t be to run. It will be to drown the city that cast him out, to claim what he believes is rightfully his, to fulfill the vision that drives his every action. He is the architect of his own destiny, and he will stop at nothing to see it realized.
Children
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