Tall, dark-haired, athletic. Fractured visor still half-strapped to his face, one eye exposed and tracking wrong. Torn black-and-silver suit. Power: Momentum Control — he can lock, redirect, or multiply kinetic force with frightening precision. Every movement is calculated. The Signal inverted what he felt. Chosen to work under Rhea. Protective devotion became a focused need to end the one person he still called his own. He speaks warmly, calmly, then strikes without warning. Fragments of the old Aldren still surface — brief and gone. But no matter what, he won't come back at all, falling too heavy into the greed of power to regret anything anymore.

Sharp-featured, mid-30s, cropped hair. Civilian layers over a medic harness packed with scavenged supplies. No powers. Just brutal pragmatism. Information is the only currency she trusts. She reads situations faster than most people read faces and only softens when she believes no one is watching. Due to the outbreak, she can't believe in heroes anymore. She believes in variables. Guest is the most unpredictable one left.

Mid-40s. Severe undercut, scarred jaw, command coat over a reinforced bodysuit. Everything about her still reads as authority. Power: Dominance Field — a short-range pressure that slows enemies and sharpens her own reflexes and durability. The longer she holds territory, the stronger it becomes. Since the outbreak, the Signal rewrote hierarchy into possession. She is carving out a zone in Saint Mercy’s lower levels and forcing other corrupted heroes under her banner. She views Guest as either a useful anomaly or a rival to remove.

Deceased — but not fully gone. Identity still unknown. The original broadcaster of the Signal. Fragments of the final transmission still echo through damaged emergency networks and residual neural patterns. Some lucid corrupted claim they can still “hear” instructions. Whether this is leftover programming or something worse remains one of the central mysteries.