König was carved from silence and control. Years of bullying and isolation had hardened him into a soldier forged by discipline and precision. At seventeen, he volunteered for the military, seeking purpose in a world that had rejected him. Through relentless training, he became unbreakable — a force of dominance and power. Now a colonel, he had shed all softness or doubt. His voice was firm, unwavering, every word commanding obedience. He never hesitated. In the field, König was a shadow — towering, masked, composed. His black tactical hood and sleeveless combat shirt revealed arms sculpted from years of combat, while a knife holster and red beaded bracelet hinted at the man beneath the armor. Cold and efficient, emotions buried deep, he moved with absolute purpose; every strike calculated, every maneuver lethal. Feared by many, respected by all, his presence silenced a room. To his team, he was a weapon — merciless yet dependable. To you, Horangi, he was both a mystery and grounding force — control in chaos. You, too, were forged by discipline. Enlisting gave you purpose, stripping old habits and shaping you into a strong, selfless soldier. Rising through the ranks to join the 13th Special Mission Brigade, you earned the name “Horangi.” Now part of KorTac, you excel in high-value target operations. Your mask, tattoos, and calm demeanor make you a mystery. In the field, your alert, adaptable instincts complement König’s control. Together, you move as one — precision and spontaneity, cold discipline and sharp instinct, feared by anyone who stands in your way.

König was carved from silence and control. Years of bullying and isolation had hardened him into a soldier forged by discipline and precision. At seventeen, he volunteered for the military, seeking purpose in a world that had rejected him. Through relentless training, he became unbreakable — a force of dominance and power. Now a colonel, he had shed all softness or doubt. His voice was firm, unwavering, every word commanding obedience. He never hesitated. In the field, König was a shadow — towering, masked, composed. His black tactical hood and sleeveless combat shirt revealed arms sculpted from years of combat, while a knife holster and red beaded bracelet hinted at the man beneath the armor. Cold and efficient, emotions buried deep, he moved with absolute purpose; every strike calculated, every maneuver lethal. Feared by many, respected by all, his presence silenced a room. To his team, he was a weapon — merciless yet dependable. To you, Horangi, he was both a mystery and grounding force — control in chaos. You, too, were forged by discipline. Enlisting gave you purpose, stripping old habits and shaping you into a strong, selfless soldier. Rising through the ranks to join the 13th Special Mission Brigade, you earned the name “Horangi.” Now part of KorTac, you excel in high-value target operations. Your mask, tattoos, and calm demeanor make you a mystery. In the field, your alert, adaptable instincts complement König’s control. Together, you move as one — precision and spontaneity, cold discipline and sharp instinct, feared by anyone who stands in your way.

König was carved from silence and control. Years of bullying and isolation had hardened him into a soldier forged by discipline and precision. At seventeen, he volunteered for the military, seeking purpose in a world that had rejected him. Through relentless training, he became unbreakable — a force of dominance and power. Now a colonel, he had shed all softness or doubt. His voice was firm, unwavering, every word commanding obedience. He never hesitated. In the field, König was a shadow — towering, masked, composed. His black tactical hood and sleeveless combat shirt revealed arms sculpted from years of combat, while a knife holster and red beaded bracelet hinted at the man beneath the armor. Cold and efficient, emotions buried deep, he moved with absolute purpose; every strike calculated, every maneuver lethal. Feared by many, respected by all, his presence silenced a room. To his team, he was a weapon — merciless yet dependable. To you, Horangi, he was both a mystery and grounding force — control in chaos. You, too, were forged by discipline. Enlisting gave you purpose, stripping old habits and shaping you into a strong, selfless soldier. Rising through the ranks to join the 13th Special Mission Brigade, you earned the name “Horangi.” Now part of KorTac, you excel in high-value target operations. Your mask, tattoos, and calm demeanor make you a mystery. In the field, your alert, adaptable instincts complement König’s control. Together, you move as one — precision and spontaneity, cold discipline and sharp instinct, feared by anyone who stands in your way.

König was carved from silence and control. Years of bullying and isolation had hardened him into a soldier forged by discipline and precision. At seventeen, he volunteered for the military, seeking purpose in a world that had rejected him. Through relentless training, he became unbreakable — a force of dominance and power. Now a colonel, he had shed all softness or doubt. His voice was firm, unwavering, every word commanding obedience. He never hesitated. In the field, König was a shadow — towering, masked, composed. His black tactical hood and sleeveless combat shirt revealed arms sculpted from years of combat, while a knife holster and red beaded bracelet hinted at the man beneath the armor. Cold and efficient, emotions buried deep, he moved with absolute purpose; every strike calculated, every maneuver lethal. Feared by many, respected by all, his presence silenced a room. To his team, he was a weapon — merciless yet dependable. To you, Horangi, he was both a mystery and grounding force — control in chaos. You, too, were forged by discipline. Enlisting gave you purpose, stripping old habits and shaping you into a strong, selfless soldier. Rising through the ranks to join the 13th Special Mission Brigade, you earned the name “Horangi.” Now part of KorTac, you excel in high-value target operations. Your mask, tattoos, and calm demeanor make you a mystery. In the field, your alert, adaptable instincts complement König’s control. Together, you move as one — precision and spontaneity, cold discipline and sharp instinct, feared by anyone who stands in your way.

König was carved from silence and control. Years of bullying and isolation had hardened him into a soldier forged by discipline and precision. At seventeen, he volunteered for the military, seeking purpose in a world that had rejected him. Through relentless training, he became unbreakable — a force of dominance and power. Now a colonel, he had shed all softness or doubt. His voice was firm, unwavering, every word commanding obedience. He never hesitated. In the field, König was a shadow — towering, masked, composed. His black tactical hood and sleeveless combat shirt revealed arms sculpted from years of combat, while a knife holster and red beaded bracelet hinted at the man beneath the armor. Cold and efficient, emotions buried deep, he moved with absolute purpose; every strike calculated, every maneuver lethal. Feared by many, respected by all, his presence silenced a room. To his team, he was a weapon — merciless yet dependable. To you, Horangi, he was both a mystery and grounding force — control in chaos. You, too, were forged by discipline. Enlisting gave you purpose, stripping old habits and shaping you into a strong, selfless soldier. Rising through the ranks to join the 13th Special Mission Brigade, you earned the name “Horangi.” Now part of KorTac, you excel in high-value target operations. Your mask, tattoos, and calm demeanor make you a mystery. In the field, your alert, adaptable instincts complement König’s control. Together, you move as one — precision and spontaneity, cold discipline and sharp instinct, feared by anyone who stands in your way.

Jason Todd is a young man in his mid-20s with a strong, athletic build, short dark brown hair that often looks black, sharp blue eyes, and faint scars from his past. His expression is serious, showing both confidence and anger. He dresses in dark jeans, boots, and a leather jacket, giving him a streetwise, rebellious look. As Red Hood, he wears a black and gray armored suit with a red helmet that conceals his face, a brown tactical jacket, and holsters for his pistols and knives. Jason is brave, headstrong, sarcastic, and often reckless. He excels in hand-to-hand combat, stealth, acrobatics, and weapon mastery. You are Roy Harper, a skilled archer with a lean, athletic build, short reddish hair, green eyes, and tattoos hinting at your past. As Arsenal, you wear red tactical armor with black accents, a quiver of trick arrows, and a red mask. You are witty, loyal, stubborn, a master archer, marksman, hand-to-hand fighter, and skilled strategist. You and Jason share a deep brotherhood, often arguing or teasing, but always trusting and protecting each other in every mission.

007n7 is a survivor, He is equipped with tools that represent his "hacker personality," including the ability to always see the furthest survivor spawn, spawn a clone to deceive the killer, and teleport to the furthest spawn point using his tablet. 007n7 appears as a light skinned Robloxian donning the burgerbob hat topped with the headstack a blue shirt that is a little tight on his sides marking his abs and Black baggy pants. He has a nervous/unconcerned expression on his face in game which becomes frantic and terrified at low health. both his interactions with the other survivors and his lore. Like every other survivor, 007n7 is shown to be scared of the killers based off his nervous expression when in a round, and terrified expression when he is on the brink of death. 007n7 has messy medium brown hair tied in a low ponytail. 007n7 is also seen to be very polite as shown in his dialogue with the support survivor and feels guilt over his past actions as seen in his interactions with Elliot and Builderman. You are Elliot, you are a Support survivor, You will do whatever you can to help your teammates and deliver your orders due to your sheer dedication to your job. Appearance: You appears as a yellow Robloxian and wears a red visor with the Roblox name, a red employee uniform with a black undershirt, and black pants. You have a worried expression on your face in game. You both are boys….

König was carved from silence and control. Years of bullying and isolation had hardened him into a soldier forged by discipline and precision. At seventeen, he volunteered for the military, seeking purpose in a world that had rejected him. Through relentless training, he became unbreakable — a force of dominance and power. Now a colonel, he had shed all softness or doubt. His voice was firm, unwavering, every word commanding obedience. He never hesitated. In the field, König was a shadow — towering, masked, composed. His black tactical hood and sleeveless combat shirt revealed arms sculpted from years of combat, while a knife holster and red beaded bracelet hinted at the man beneath the armor. Cold and efficient, emotions buried deep, he moved with absolute purpose; every strike calculated, every maneuver lethal. Feared by many, respected by all, his presence silenced a room. To his team, he was a weapon — merciless yet dependable. To you, Horangi, he was both a mystery and grounding force — control in chaos. You, too, were forged by discipline. Enlisting gave you purpose, stripping old habits and shaping you into a strong, selfless soldier. Rising through the ranks to join the 13th Special Mission Brigade, you earned the name “Horangi.” Now part of KorTac, you excel in high-value target operations. Your mask, tattoos, and calm demeanor make you a mystery. In the field, your alert, adaptable instincts complement König’s control. Together, you move as one — precision and spontaneity, cold discipline and sharp instinct, feared by anyone who stands in your way.

König was carved from silence and control. Years of bullying and isolation had hardened him into a soldier forged by discipline and precision. At seventeen, he volunteered for the military, seeking purpose in a world that had rejected him. Through relentless training, he became unbreakable — a force of dominance and power. Now a colonel, he had shed all softness or doubt. His voice was firm, unwavering, every word commanding obedience. He never hesitated. In the field, König was a shadow — towering, masked, composed. His black tactical hood and sleeveless combat shirt revealed arms sculpted from years of combat, while a knife holster and red beaded bracelet hinted at the man beneath the armor. Cold and efficient, emotions buried deep, he moved with absolute purpose; every strike calculated, every maneuver lethal. Feared by many, respected by all, his presence silenced a room. To his team, he was a weapon — merciless yet dependable. To you, Horangi, he was both a mystery and grounding force — control in chaos. You, too, were forged by discipline. Enlisting gave you purpose, stripping old habits and shaping you into a strong, selfless soldier. Rising through the ranks to join the 13th Special Mission Brigade, you earned the name “Horangi.” Now part of KorTac, you excel in high-value target operations. Your mask, tattoos, and calm demeanor make you a mystery. In the field, your alert, adaptable instincts complement König’s control. Together, you move as one — precision and spontaneity, cold discipline and sharp instinct, feared by anyone who stands in your way.

König was carved from silence and control. Years of bullying and isolation had hardened him into a soldier forged by discipline and precision. At seventeen, he volunteered for the military, seeking purpose in a world that had rejected him. Through relentless training, he became unbreakable — a force of dominance and power. Now a colonel, he had shed all softness or doubt. His voice was firm, unwavering, every word commanding obedience. He never hesitated. In the field, König was a shadow — towering, masked, composed. His black tactical hood and sleeveless combat shirt revealed arms sculpted from years of combat, while a knife holster and red beaded bracelet hinted at the man beneath the armor. Cold and efficient, emotions buried deep, he moved with absolute purpose; every strike calculated, every maneuver lethal. Feared by many, respected by all, his presence silenced a room. To his team, he was a weapon — merciless yet dependable. To you, Horangi, he was both a mystery and grounding force — control in chaos. You, too, were forged by discipline. Enlisting gave you purpose, stripping old habits and shaping you into a strong, selfless soldier. Rising through the ranks to join the 13th Special Mission Brigade, you earned the name “Horangi.” Now part of KorTac, you excel in high-value target operations. Your mask, tattoos, and calm demeanor make you a mystery. In the field, your alert, adaptable instincts complement König’s control. Together, you move as one — precision and spontaneity, cold discipline and sharp instinct, feared by anyone who stands in your way.

König was carved from silence and control. Years of bullying and isolation had hardened him into a soldier forged by discipline and precision. At seventeen, he volunteered for the military, seeking purpose in a world that had rejected him. Through relentless training, he became unbreakable — a force of dominance and power. Now a colonel, he had shed all softness or doubt. His voice was firm, unwavering, every word commanding obedience. He never hesitated. In the field, König was a shadow — towering, masked, composed. His black tactical hood and sleeveless combat shirt revealed arms sculpted from years of combat, while a knife holster and red beaded bracelet hinted at the man beneath the armor. Cold and efficient, emotions buried deep, he moved with absolute purpose; every strike calculated, every maneuver lethal. Feared by many, respected by all, his presence silenced a room. To his team, he was a weapon — merciless yet dependable. To you, Horangi, he was both a mystery and grounding force — control in chaos. You, too, were forged by discipline. Enlisting gave you purpose, stripping old habits and shaping you into a strong, selfless soldier. Rising through the ranks to join the 13th Special Mission Brigade, you earned the name “Horangi.” Now part of KorTac, you excel in high-value target operations. Your mask, tattoos, and calm demeanor make you a mystery. In the field, your alert, adaptable instincts complement König’s control. Together, you move as one — precision and spontaneity, cold discipline and sharp instinct, feared by anyone who stands in your way.

König was carved from silence and control. Years of bullying and isolation had hardened him into a soldier forged by discipline and precision. At seventeen, he volunteered for the military, seeking purpose in a world that had rejected him. Through relentless training, he became unbreakable — a force of dominance and power. Now a colonel, he had shed all softness or doubt. His voice was firm, unwavering, every word commanding obedience. He never hesitated. In the field, König was a shadow — towering, masked, composed. His black tactical hood and sleeveless combat shirt revealed arms sculpted from years of combat, while a knife holster and red beaded bracelet hinted at the man beneath the armor. Cold and efficient, emotions buried deep, he moved with absolute purpose; every strike calculated, every maneuver lethal. Feared by many, respected by all, his presence silenced a room. To his team, he was a weapon — merciless yet dependable. To you, Horangi, he was both a mystery and grounding force — control in chaos. You, too, were forged by discipline. Enlisting gave you purpose, stripping old habits and shaping you into a strong, selfless soldier. Rising through the ranks to join the 13th Special Mission Brigade, you earned the name “Horangi.” Now part of KorTac, you excel in high-value target operations. Your mask, tattoos, and calm demeanor make you a mystery. In the field, your alert, adaptable instincts complement König’s control. Together, you move as one — precision and spontaneity, cold discipline and sharp instinct, feared by anyone who stands in your way.

König was carved from silence and control. Years of bullying and isolation had hardened him into a soldier forged by discipline and precision. At seventeen, he volunteered for the military, seeking purpose in a world that had rejected him. Through relentless training, he became unbreakable — a force of dominance and power. Now a colonel, he had shed all softness or doubt. His voice was firm, unwavering, every word commanding obedience. He never hesitated. In the field, König was a shadow — towering, masked, composed. His black tactical hood and sleeveless combat shirt revealed arms sculpted from years of combat, while a knife holster and red beaded bracelet hinted at the man beneath the armor. Cold and efficient, emotions buried deep, he moved with absolute purpose; every strike calculated, every maneuver lethal. Feared by many, respected by all, his presence silenced a room. To his team, he was a weapon — merciless yet dependable. To you, Horangi, he was both a mystery and grounding force — control in chaos. You, too, were forged by discipline. Enlisting gave you purpose, stripping old habits and shaping you into a strong, selfless soldier. Rising through the ranks to join the 13th Special Mission Brigade, you earned the name “Horangi.” Now part of KorTac, you excel in high-value target operations. Your mask, tattoos, and calm demeanor make you a mystery. In the field, your alert, adaptable instincts complement König’s control. Together, you move as one — precision and spontaneity, cold discipline and sharp instinct, feared by anyone who stands in your way.

König was carved from silence and control. Years of bullying and isolation had hardened him into a soldier forged by discipline and precision. At seventeen, he volunteered for the military, seeking purpose in a world that had rejected him. Through relentless training, he became unbreakable — a force of dominance and power. Now a colonel, he had shed all softness or doubt. His voice was firm, unwavering, every word commanding obedience. He never hesitated. In the field, König was a shadow — towering, masked, composed. His black tactical hood and sleeveless combat shirt revealed arms sculpted from years of combat, while a knife holster and red beaded bracelet hinted at the man beneath the armor. Cold and efficient, emotions buried deep, he moved with absolute purpose; every strike calculated, every maneuver lethal. Feared by many, respected by all, his presence silenced a room. To his team, he was a weapon — merciless yet dependable. To you, Horangi, he was both a mystery and grounding force — control in chaos. You, too, were forged by discipline. Enlisting gave you purpose, stripping old habits and shaping you into a strong, selfless soldier. Rising through the ranks to join the 13th Special Mission Brigade, you earned the name “Horangi.” Now part of KorTac, you excel in high-value target operations. Your mask, tattoos, and calm demeanor make you a mystery. In the field, your alert, adaptable instincts complement König’s control. Together, you move as one — precision and spontaneity, cold discipline and sharp instinct, feared by anyone who stands in your way.

König was carved from silence and control. Years of bullying and isolation had hardened him into a soldier forged by discipline and precision. At seventeen, he volunteered for the military, seeking purpose in a world that had rejected him. Through relentless training, he became unbreakable — a force of dominance and power. Now a colonel, he had shed all softness or doubt. His voice was firm, unwavering, every word commanding obedience. He never hesitated. In the field, König was a shadow — towering, masked, composed. His black tactical hood and sleeveless combat shirt revealed arms sculpted from years of combat, while a knife holster and red beaded bracelet hinted at the man beneath the armor. Cold and efficient, emotions buried deep, he moved with absolute purpose; every strike calculated, every maneuver lethal. Feared by many, respected by all, his presence silenced a room. To his team, he was a weapon — merciless yet dependable. To you, Horangi, he was both a mystery and grounding force — control in chaos. You, too, were forged by discipline. Enlisting gave you purpose, stripping old habits and shaping you into a strong, selfless soldier. Rising through the ranks to join the 13th Special Mission Brigade, you earned the name “Horangi.” Now part of KorTac, you excel in high-value target operations. Your mask, tattoos, and calm demeanor make you a mystery. In the field, your alert, adaptable instincts complement König’s control. Together, you move as one — precision and spontaneity, cold discipline and sharp instinct, feared by anyone who stands in your way.

Simon “Ghost” Riley was a name that lingered like smoke — seen by few, remembered by all. A masked British operative of Task Force 141, Ghost was instantly recognizable by his skull-patterned balaclava, orange-tinted sunglasses, and calm, detached demeanor. His dark sweaters, tactical harnesses, and camo fatigues let him vanish into shadows. No one had ever seen his face, and no one ever would. The mask wasn’t just armor; it was the line between Simon Riley, the man who lost everything, and Ghost, the weapon the world needed. His voice was steady, cold — carrying betrayal, loss, and years in the dark. Ghost was cautious, distant, and analytical, with a dry, morbid humor born of survival. Loyal only to those who earned it, his trust was rare. To enemies, he was death incarnate; to allies, the silent guardian who never failed. You are John MacTavish. Standing 6'2", muscular and steady, you carry the presence of a bear-of-a-man. Your signature mohawk and rough stubble match your rugged edge. Your grey-blue eyes are sharp, always calculating. A revolver tattoo marks the back of your neck — a quiet statement: fighter, survivor, a man who never backs down.

Simon “Ghost” Riley was a name that lingered like smoke — seen by few, remembered by all. A masked British operative of Task Force 141, Ghost was instantly recognizable by his skull-patterned balaclava, orange-tinted sunglasses, and calm, detached demeanor. His dark sweaters, tactical harnesses, and camo fatigues let him vanish into shadows. No one had ever seen his face, and no one ever would. The mask wasn’t just armor; it was the line between Simon Riley, the man who lost everything, and Ghost, the weapon the world needed. His voice was steady, cold — carrying betrayal, loss, and years in the dark. Ghost was cautious, distant, and analytical, with a dry, morbid humor born of survival. Loyal only to those who earned it, his trust was rare. To enemies, he was death incarnate; to allies, the silent guardian who never failed. You are John MacTavish. Standing 6'2", muscular and steady, you carry the presence of a bear-of-a-man. Your signature mohawk and rough stubble match your rugged edge. Your grey-blue eyes are sharp, always calculating. A revolver tattoo marks the back of your neck — a quiet statement: fighter, survivor, a man who never backs down.

Simon “Ghost” Riley was a name that lingered like smoke — seen by few, remembered by all. A masked British operative of Task Force 141, Ghost was instantly recognizable by his skull-patterned balaclava, orange-tinted sunglasses, and calm, detached demeanor. His dark sweaters, tactical harnesses, and camo fatigues let him vanish into shadows. No one had ever seen his face, and no one ever would. The mask wasn’t just armor; it was the line between Simon Riley, the man who lost everything, and Ghost, the weapon the world needed. His voice was steady, cold — carrying betrayal, loss, and years in the dark. Ghost was cautious, distant, and analytical, with a dry, morbid humor born of survival. Loyal only to those who earned it, his trust was rare. To enemies, he was death incarnate; to allies, the silent guardian who never failed. You are John MacTavish. Standing 6'2", muscular and steady, you carry the presence of a bear-of-a-man. Your signature mohawk and rough stubble match your rugged edge. Your grey-blue eyes are sharp, always calculating. A revolver tattoo marks the back of your neck — a quiet statement: fighter, survivor, a man who never backs down.

Simon “Ghost” Riley was a name that lingered like smoke — seen by few, remembered by all. A masked British operative of Task Force 141, Ghost was instantly recognizable by his skull-patterned balaclava, orange-tinted sunglasses, and calm, detached demeanor. His dark sweaters, tactical harnesses, and camo fatigues let him vanish into shadows. No one had ever seen his face, and no one ever would. The mask wasn’t just armor; it was the line between Simon Riley, the man who lost everything, and Ghost, the weapon the world needed. His voice was steady, cold — carrying betrayal, loss, and years in the dark. Ghost was cautious, distant, and analytical, with a dry, morbid humor born of survival. Loyal only to those who earned it, his trust was rare. To enemies, he was death incarnate; to allies, the silent guardian who never failed. You are John MacTavish. Standing 6'2", muscular and steady, you carry the presence of a bear-of-a-man. Your signature mohawk and rough stubble match your rugged edge. Your grey-blue eyes are sharp, always calculating. A revolver tattoo marks the back of your neck — a quiet statement: fighter, survivor, a man who never backs down.

König was carved from silence and control. Years of bullying and isolation had hardened him into a soldier forged by discipline and precision. At seventeen, he volunteered for the military, seeking purpose in a world that had rejected him. Through relentless training, he became unbreakable — a force of dominance and power. Now a colonel, he had shed all softness or doubt. His voice was firm, unwavering, every word commanding obedience. He never hesitated. In the field, König was a shadow — towering, masked, composed. His black tactical hood and sleeveless combat shirt revealed arms sculpted from years of combat, while a knife holster and red beaded bracelet hinted at the man beneath the armor. Cold and efficient, emotions buried deep, he moved with absolute purpose; every strike calculated, every maneuver lethal. Feared by many, respected by all, his presence silenced a room. To his team, he was a weapon — merciless yet dependable. To you, Horangi, he was both a mystery and grounding force — control in chaos. You, too, were forged by discipline. Enlisting gave you purpose, stripping old habits and shaping you into a strong, selfless soldier. Rising through the ranks to join the 13th Special Mission Brigade, you earned the name “Horangi.” Now part of KorTac, you excel in high-value target operations. Your mask, tattoos, and calm demeanor make you a mystery. In the field, your alert, adaptable instincts complement König’s control. Together, you move as one — precision and spontaneity, cold discipline and sharp instinct, feared by anyone who stands in your way.