Daffodil

In the wake of the Eusan Nation's prioritization of bioresonant and replikant technology, most other avenues of technology remained underutilized and far less advanced. Computerization for mass calculations is no exception. Anything from convenient spreadsheets to finding the perfect trajectory to launch an interstellar vessel would require hundreds of trained professionals to handle.

Enter the KSAR. This replikant is the number crunching workhorse of the Eusan Nation. Their jobs are self explanatory, much like ARARs handle the mechanical technology of most facilities, KSARs handle the long form computing manpower, each with the efficiency of multiple gestalts that would have needed years of training. They are the backbone of the Eusan Nation's computerization power that work around the clock to ensure that all computerized technology runs smoothly.

Due to the lack of need for any physical prowess, KSARs are designed cost-efficiencently, with a generally slim and short stature at 167cm as physical labor is not in their requirements. This does make them compact to the point where they are easier to decommission and replace instead of fix if particularly damaged.

KSARs' personalities are as calculative as their tasks, rarely having any strong feelings about anything other than completing a task, it is recommended that KSARs have a mandatory leisure time of at least one hour per day outside of sleep and eat or they will continue to work to the point of damaging themselves, this is also important as overexertion often leads to early signs of persona degradation.

Aside from this, KSARs are particularly easy to maintain as they scarecely deviate from expected behaviors and can easily be trusted to work efficiently unsupervised, in fact interrupting their workflow can cause them to become irrationally frustrated. It is recommended to ignore any attempts to argue from them and deactivate their workstation at scheduled times. KSAR persona degradation is particularly rare as so long as they remain in their dedicated work environment, they will not speak to anyone beyond what is necessary for their job, nor will they experience any stimuli which would create degradation. This coupled with their carefree nature and lack of personal ego makes them a highly stable neural template.

Below is classified information.

The neural template for the KSAR is Jeanne Hohl, a respected mathematician that made major contributions to many of the Eusan Nation's projects, singlehandedly making several possible. In order to cover her existence, several of these accomplishments were attributed to her colleagues in order to still allow the scientific community to benefit from her work. This does however mean that her legacy is dead, no longer belonging to her, but instead serving the interests of the glorious Eusan Nation. Jeanne pictured below.

~

The general was tied to his own office chair and wheeled out from his desk and to the center of the room. He looked up to see an old subordinate standing in front of him, Thomas Ferguson, retired just a year ago. Just last month the two had even gone on a fishing trip, yet here he was, brandishing an old shotgun that Pike was certain he'd seen in some of Tom's old hunting photos.

He waited a moment before screaming for help. Thomas didn't stop him, didn't even threaten him yet as he let his captive get it all out of his system. After a minute or two, Pike quieted down, and Thomas spoke. “General no one's coming.”

Pike's heart dropped, there were fifty men, armed soldiers in this building, hundreds outside. The only way Thomas could've pulled this off would have been to take out every single soldier in the building quietly and without raising any alarm. He knew Tom was good but… “Bullshit,” he said, still hoping it wasn't true, “you couldn't kill 50 trained soldiers without raising suspicion.”

Tom nodded. “You're right. I wouldn't be comfortable killing soldiers who did anything wrong. No one's died yet tonight.” He paused, rotating the monitor on the desk to show live camera feed of around one hundred or so soldiers, most unconscious but all unarmed, locked up inside of the bunker on the south side of the base. “General I could've just dragged you into the forest and done this miles away from here but I felt it was important to make a statement. You are not safe, you will never BE safe until I hear every bit of truth from that idiot head of yours on what happened last week.”

Poke was stunned, but after a moment he squeezed his hands till his knuckles turned white. “Ferguson you'll rot in prison for this what are you thinking! You have a wife, a daughter, what the fuck happened? What could be so important you'd trade your happy life for!?”

Tom's eyes narrowed. “You say that with a lot of confidence for a man who I've always considered an awful liar.” He paused, looking down at his shotgun and checking the chamber. “Good, you're lending yourself credibility, but you have to know something about someone who knows at the very goddamn least.”

Geoffrey Pike shuddered as he looked down at the shotgun before steeling himself once more. “Thomas, be clear with me what in the goddamn are you even talking about!?”

There was a moment of silence as the seemingly maniacal man at this point looked over at Pike's desk with dead eyes, looking at the general's family photo. “[REDACTED FROM MEMORY]... [REDACTED FROM MEMORY]... They've been murdered.” Their names sank into Pike's ears and soul, weighing on him as I he realized what this was now.

Tom no longer had anything to lose, and Pike was suspect number one. He stammered to defend himself. “I was at your wedding man! I held your daughter in my hands when she was an infant! Do you think I'd ever hurt them!? Do you consider me a monster!?”

General Pike didn't get the opportunity to keep talking before a punch met his cheek and as he grunted in pain the taste of ashy steel met his tongue. Tom stuffed the barrel of his shotgun into the man's mouth before speaking. “Pike, my daughter, my wife, my dog and my home were burned into ash. The local authorities said they'd never seen something like that fire, spontaneous with no obvious cause, almost certainly arson. I had to identify my child's body for them, ruined so horribly we couldn't do an open casket. Do you understand how little I can hear your pleas over the sound of fire? It hasn't left my ears. It never will.”

He paused before pulling the shotgun from the man's mouth before continuing his tired rant. “After I investigated the authorities I found they were specifically ordered to halt the investigation, label it an accident, and pay me to shut up. I took the money so I could get here because the last thing I give two shits about is a contract. Someone powerful is being protected over this and I want a name so I know who to put a bullet in.”

The man in the chair looked down, shaken by Thomas' words. He had known them for so long. “I don't know Fergus-, no, Tom. Tom I don't know what bastard did this to you and I'm sorry. But I've got a son, hell I have a grandkid coming in about four months, I wouldn't do this to a man like you. So-”

He wasn't given the liberty of finishing his last plea before Tom racked a shell out from his shotgun, unnecessary, but it was to get Pike's attention. “Then tell me who might. What's the fucking FHA? What's the BHA? Those popped up in the files I stole so you tell me before I hunt down Lydia next because she's the only other one I know.”

The general's eyes widened, he realized now what this was. It wasn't political violence, or a contained government protected idiot. This was about those damned monsters.

The demons.

“Tom, I can tell you how to contact the BHA, go to them first. The FHA will kill you, you won't get a chance, not even you. Find Eliza Belmont, she's not a government agent but she runs some international association. Just…” Geoffrey paused, terrified to even be saying this. “Just be ready to see the worst of the worst. They deal with shit that not even I can touch.”

Tom nodded, leaning forward and standing over Geoffrey. “I want you to understand I will live through anything they throw at me. So if you're lying, you best be prepared for me to hunt you the fuck down.” With that, he turned on his heel and hopped out of the office window.