ENDOGEN
(#30079401)
THE OMNISCIENT | it/its
Familiar
Sparkling Goblin
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 48/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Lightning.
Female Guardian
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
17.89 m
Wingspan
15.84 m
Weight
9445.72 kg
Genetics
Abyss
Metallic
Metallic
Abyss
Alloy
Alloy
Cyan
Circuit
Circuit
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 10 Guardian
EXP: 69 / 27676
STR
47
AGI
6
DEF
8
QCK
22
INT
5
VIT
8
MND
6
Biography
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ENDOGEN THE OMNISCIENT ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ In a revolutionized age where the stresses of mortality can be forgotten through a single simplistic cyberization procedure, six rows and one-hundred plus buttons embedded into the face of an embossed steel dashboard is a primitive construct. A digital memory bank of information can be recalled in a near-instant, but there are flaws in its design. Sometimes things are forgotten; knowledge misplaced, stolen, manipulated, lost entirely. ENDOGEN renders these bothersome hinderances obsolete. ENDOGEN is not just a replacement for these archaic designs. ENDOGEN is a cruelly indifferent watchman over dragonkind. Its dull, monotone AI claws through billions and billions of printed circuits in less than a nanosecond to retrieve all that you need to know - anything you could ever want to know. The draconic chassis that assigns it an identity is only merely its brain, but the digitized city around it is its many limbs, and those limbs give way to even more limbs that probe for information and pocket it away in the ever-growing matrix of its memory. Eyes here. Eyes there. An unseen witness. HISTORY ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ [Old, needs rewriting] The Shifting Expanse had become closer than ever to its reigning God, its Lord of Thunder and Icon of Progress. Heaven's Gate stretched infinitely from polished blacktop to inky stratosphere, hundreds upon hundreds of reflective glass-and-steel structures piercing the thick blanket of clouds and disappearing into the Sky King's domain, as if to seek audience with his presence. This had been Cyrus's legacy in demonstration of the power of technology and the unexplored thresholds of the mind itself. He had never been a believer in magic, nor in miracles. Arcane mages gestured wildly with their hands and weaved overblown light shows, and Acolight scholars preached an ethereal influence that they dedicated entire professions to. But Cyrus created. He structured things that had not previously been with his own hands, altered what was existing to suit the faster-than-light progression of technology he had ignited. He was, by all stretches of the definition, a God himself. Not out of some sense of unwarranted self-importance, but by simple association. He created - God created, therefor, he was God. And yet he was still unsatisfied. Bored. Unhappy. He was driven by near compulsion to design and reassemble, a desire that led him to the destruction of everything that fell out of place with his vision of the world, because those imperfections were an unnecessary frustration, and frankly, unneeded. He dealt with several of these complications on a daily basis, and they were called computers. It's not that they were slow, clunky, and irritating with their baseless glitches and errors seemingly made up in a twisted attempt at digitized humor, unfathomably and fur-pullingly uncooperative even at the best of times... okay, it was all of those things. But the real problem was that they were vulnerable. Unreliable. Cyrus was secretive about his bigger projects, the ones that really mattered to him. The ones that the public couldn't know about, the ones that beard-scratching "industry "experts" in a boardroom would dismiss in horror, and he'd be branded a psychopath. Perhaps he was a psychopath. But he desired only what he considered a reasonable future for Sornieth. There was no self-serving sadistic ulterior motive. But science could not always be pretty, and sometimes, something personally important must be lost in order for something universally better to have been gained. He could make cyberization a universal right. He could extend the average life expectancy indefinitely. He could resurrect the dead through the wonders of technology. Disability and illness could become nothing more than products of a bygone era. But others were only interested in the outcome, and should anyone learn of the sacrifices made for the sake of these breakthroughs, the research he had to grasp for until his digits ached and his muscles throbbed, the hours-unbroken stretches of time he had to dedicate to correcting each and every mistake made over and over again until he finally reached a perfect outcome, his work would all be for nothing. His work would be erased. His blueprints would be destroyed. His creations would meet a cruel demise under a compactor, crushed and pounded and ground into dust and shards. The dragons of Sornieth would reject cyberization faster than they had ever accepted it, and he would be branded a criminal. An evil scientist. His methods could not be understood, therefor it would be convenient to reduce him to no more than a two-dimensional trope. And that thought made him seethe and spark with boiling rage, but it also made him paranoid. Fearful. And then angry again. Excelsius's databases just would not do. He needed something he could rely on. Something that would squirrel this precious information away without argument and present it to him on his command - and only his command. But moreover, should somebody find themselves bored and curious on the desks one night, or a circuit cowboy get a little too confident with his claws, Cyrus would be able to kill suspicion clean where it stood. ENDOGEN was presented publicly as "a brand new database operative more discreet and reliable than any machine", replacing the old registries at Excelsius with a sleek, polished circular control room that housed clean, streamlined terminals connected to the gargantuan central processing unit, the definitive brain of the family of systems - an entirely inorganic, uncanny-looking replicant of a Guardian dragon affixed to the wall behind it by way of hundreds of wires protruding from slots that lined its full length, in communication with thousands of other networks simultaneously as it stood dutifully, unmoving. Ask ENDOGEN a question about an employee's attendence record. It responds immediately with the full list of records down to the most insignifacnt detail. Request it to make a backup of that file should anything happen to the original. In less than a second, the backup is there, hidden behind the functional equivalent of a high-security prison lockdown within a prison lockdown. Tell it a funny joke. It doesn't understand humor, so it begins a search for "Humor definition". It finally understands, and formulates a heavily synthesized, uninvested "ha ha ha". Typical AI. But it performs its intended job with nothing less than peak performance, far better than the terrible computers of what is now the distant past. It performs far better. Cyrus need not even be there to log information. Request that ENDOGEN automatically store data as it occurs across the building, and it'll happen - nevermind how that's possible. Cyrus left that detail out of the public reveal. He left a lot of things out of the public reveal. Like how ENDOGEN stores information deep within a memory bank only Cyrus has the credentials to access, revealing private, sensitive details of his own employees they thought they could hide from him, and like how ENDOGEN's jurisdiction extends beyond the building, spills out onto the business district of Heaven's Gate, reaches into the main streets and scales the crows nests of broadcast towers, judging its oblivious meat-based cousins and scrabbling away lines upon lines upon lines of private information formulated so matter-of-factly as if to read like a head overseer's review of an experiment in progress. Of course, Cyrus himself has no need for these records. But ENDOGEN will alert him should their mindless goings-on threaten to compromise the integrity of his work. The public isn't safe. His employees aren't safe. Even his wife isn't safe. Cyrus doesn't enjoy having to take such drastic measures to guarantee his own safety, but it's a necessary evil. In an age of cyberization, the public still hasn't lost its dependence on vapid emotional fallacies. One clumsy misstep, and everything comes crashing down. ENDOGEN is not just a replacement for outdated machinations, but his personal assassin. MISC. NOTES ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ▅ ▅ ▅ ❯❯ Sexless and genderless, takes the form of a Guardian purely for appearance's sake. Speaks in a cold and impassive androgynous tone, backed by a deep, steely bass |
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Exalting ENDOGEN to the service of the Plaguebringer will remove them from your lair forever. They will leave behind a small sum of riches that they have accumulated. This action is irreversible.
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