Super Genetics

HeroWatch Entry

(last updated Year 42:9:13 18:01 local time)

Christopher Cuellar (Cryptonix)

Summary

Christopher Cuellar (chosen super moniker: Cryptonix), was an A-ranked Alterant (unconfirmed) with the ability to manipulate the foundational components of cryptography and encryption algorithms. It is unconfirmed if he was able to accomplish this through brute force solutions that defy known computational limits or if his powers allowed him to alter the metaphysical structure of mathematics itself. It is highly suspected that his Awakening did not increase or alter his personal mathematic capability to a degree where he was able to circumvent or solve cryptographic algorithms manually. As an Alterant, such intellectual leaps are unlikely and have not been recorded with other supers (needs citaion).

He is best known for founding the technology behemoth Crypto Solutions—the largest company in the world before its dissolution after his death. But Cryptonix first came into the public sphere when he signed a groundbreaking contract with the (IHeartSupers Network) to live broadcast his Awakening and reveal the inner secrets of the process to the unpowered public for the first time.

Brain wave and heart rate patterns indicate the Awakening process took 2 minutes, 26 seconds. Upon waking, Cryptonix was immediately questioned about the process and what he had experienced. He was visibly uncomfortable and skirted around answering the questions for the next 3 minutes (needs citation). After some prompting, he admitted that he is forbidden from discussing the specifics (see (Awakened System Restrictions and Speculations)). When pressed on who exactly is forbidding him, he used his powers to hijack the feed, looping pornographic material for 17 minutes until the (IHeartSupers Network) was able to regain control.

The fallout of Cryptonix’s actions led to the most viewed television broadcast of the post-Call era, (The Cryptonix-IHSN Breach of Contract Trial) . The judge ruled in favor of the (IHeartSupers Network), citing that Cryptonix was in breach of contract and had caused billions in damage to the network.

Cryptonix’s earnings were garnished for years, until he founded Crypto Solutions and bought the majority share of the (IHeartSupers Network). After leaving for his Capstone Quest, it was revealed that his financial gain was the result of an illicit network virus calling itself (The W0rld W0rm Virus). See (Affiliation) for more information.

He left for his Capstone Quest in Year 42, and his death was confirmed later that year.

Powerset

His powerset is mostly a mystery to this day. What is clear, is that he was able to bring the world’s largest companies and the global web to its knees through the introduction of (The W0rld W0rm Virus). The virus was inexplicably capable of bypassing all commonly used encryption algorithms (see (The W0rld W0rm Virus) for a list of compromised algorithms). This ransomware held the entire world hostage for 53 days until Cryptonix provided the solution.

It is suspected that he maintained the Alterant class after his (Midmark Quest), but unconfirmed.

+ Alterant (F to C)

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+ Alterant (C to A) — Uncomfirmed

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Affiliation

Off the wake of the controversy surrounding Cryptonix’s Awakening and the subsequent trial, the super formed the technology company Crypto Solutions. Crypto Solutions took the technology world by storm, forming bulkheads against (The W0rld W0rm Virus) which had infiltrated the web and dozens of private company’s networks.

Effectively neutering the threat of (The W0rld W0rm Virus), all the technology giants flocked to Crypto Solutions to harden their systems and processes. Crypto Solutions became the largest technology company practically overnight (needs citation).

After Cryptonix’s summons for his Capstone and subsequent death, internal documents surfaced that proved Cryptonix himself was the creator of (the W0rld W0rm virus) and was both the instigator and the savior of his own product. Crypto Solutions collapsed shortly after, pieced apart by litigious clients until Cryptonix’s legacy was no more (needs citation).

Personal Life

Cryptonix never married or had any documented children. His parents live to this day in an electronically and cryptographically secure compound funded by the trillions he left behind before engaging in his Capstone Quest. Attempts to sue the trust funding his parents’ compound have met legal roadblocks. Death threats come in daily and electronic attacks were frequent after news of Cryptonix's death, but no breach has been reported.

Notable Exploits

(The Live Broadcast of Cryptonix’s Awakening)

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(The Cryptonix-IHSN Breach of Contract Trial)

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(The W0rld W0rm Virus)

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Terry followed Crunch out of the dungeons in a daze. His mind couldn’t seem to decide on exactly what to feel about the last thirty minutes, let alone the last seven days.

I was attacked by one of my heroes—scratch that, two of my heroes. My father abandoned me only a few days after my mom’s death without so much as a buck up champ. One of the Fairway’s strongest undead allies nearly killed me within our own city.

And my own grandfather used me as bait to smoke out a hostile super…

A sad laugh popped out, morphing into a full-blown laughing fit in the middle of the hallway.

Crunch paused, tilting his head.

“My prince?”

He waved away the ghoul’s concern, but a glance up at the confused look in Crunch’s eye only fueled the laughter more.

To a people who never laugh, I must look like a loon. Hell, even to normal people I’d look like a loon right now.

He knew there was nothing funny about the last week, but when he examined it as a whole, the absurdity of it all reached a tipping point in his mind.

“I get doctor. Head injury.”

No, he tried to say, but it came out as more of a laughing wheeze. Instead, he clutched at Crunch’s wrist with a desperate energy. The thought of being left alone in the dimly-lit hallway sobered him up. He met Crunch’s eye, trying to appear confident and healthy, even as tears of laughter dripped down his cheeks.

“Doctor,” Crunch insisted.

Terry shook his head. “I’m fine…I’m…just don’t tell any jokes until after we visit the Evolution Chamber.” Crunch stared blankly at him. “That was funny,” he complained. That blank stare somehow turned blanker. “Cause you don’t tell jokes…okay, nevermind.” The ghoul seemed less than put at ease, so Terry took a few steps back and held his hands up. “See? I’m fine. Plus, the doctor just looked at me. Come on, Crunch, let’s go. I don’t wanna miss it.”

The ghoul reluctantly took the lead and Terry was happy to keep moving. Even though he knew Tenebrous was captured, the shadows seemed particularly dense all of the sudden.

“We no miss,” Crunch said a moment later. “They wait for Crunch.”

Terry’s eyebrows rose. “Oh, I didn’t realize—” He had been about to say, I didn’t realize you were so important. “—didn’t realize that.”

Crunch didn’t reply and they continued their walk in silence. He was grateful for the ghoul’s directions because the trip into the dungeons had completely turned him around. He was even more confused when they didn’t head back out to one of the main junctions, but instead used some side tunnels. Despite living his entire life in the palace, trips into the Catacombs were typically associated with specific events—and always with one or both of his parents. While he had never considered himself an expert on the layout of the underground structure, he was surprised just how turned around he was.

Now as he followed Crunch, he studied the walls for signage but found none. Even the electric lights embedded in the stone for human convenience seemed to be spread further out the deeper they went.

Had the air always been this stagnant? And what was that sound behind us?

He kept on Crunch’s hip, only a handspan separating the two of them.

After a few minutes, he spotted a familiar landmark and sighed, feeling his shoulders loosen as he finally figured out where they were. Something about not being able to orient himself this far under the earth had started to become claustrophobic and a little scary.

Okay, a lot scary.

They arrived outside the Evolution Chamber soon after and his stomach flipped as he realized everyone was actually standing around waiting. The hallway was lined with liches, ghouls, and the same two patches that seemed to always be posted outside the chamber.

But what drew his eye were the seven ghoul bodies stacked to the side like firewood before winter. To his human sensibilities, it felt incredibly crass. If they were human bodies, he would have been puking on the tunnel ground at the grotesque display. For some reason, the casual nature of the procession seemed to defuse the sanctity of the dead ghouls—but not necessarily in a bad way, like their deaths were cheapened. It felt more like…a shedding of snake’s skin.

No, he realized. Like, their lives and what they’d accomplished for the clan were what was important. Their bodies were just fuel to be repurposed toward the fire that kept their people thriving.

Or maybe I’m just projecting that human need to make death meaningful.

Whatever the case, the undead stirred at their arrival, shifting from their positions to begin picking up the seven dead ghouls. In that moment, a ripple seemed to pass through the gathered undead and Terry only recognized something was off when they turned as one to regard the figure passing from the other end of the hall. Each and every undead bowed their heads in deference—except the patches, who hadn’t even bowed for the Emperor.

The giant golden-torc ghoul from earlier split the group of undead like a wedge hammered into wood. He towered over the others, at least as tall as Savage, with limbs just as thick and powerful. Each step seemed charged with energy and his toe-blades dug into the earth as if ready to pounce.

Terry felt himself lean away from the ghoul, only just stopping himself from taking a step backward. Just yesterday, he would have laughed at anyone suggesting his grandfather’s undead servants could possibly be a threat to him. Yet, there was something borne in the air upon the golden-torc ghoul’s arrival. Almost a flavor that he could taste, though not with his tongue.

It feels like the draugr…no, just as powerful, but different. Not full of raw emotion like the draugr; more nuanced, too complex for me to pull apart.

Strangely, he was less interested in the emotions and more interested in his sudden increase in perception. Why could he feel the elder’s aura so powerfully when most of the time he couldn’t even register any aura? In fact, the only times he could remember recognizing it at all were when the draugr had come for him, now with the elder, and possibly the few times he had interacted with the patches.

Was it a matter of power levels? The draugr, elder ghoul, and the patches just being so strong that they could project an aura that I could perceive?

He was pulled from his thoughts by the looming presence of the elder as he stared first at Crunch, then at Terry. There was a human element to the elder’s gaze that the other ghouls didn’t share—a much more natural flick of the eyes when compared to the almost mechanical regard he was used to from Crunch and the others.

He would have thought that would put him more at ease in the elder’s presence, but for some reason, a shiver traced up his spine. Like looking into a tiger’s eyes and suddenly realizing that you were under the careful regard of a superlative killing machine.

The elder spoke in ghoulish, his voice deep and graceful. His eyes seemed to pin Crunch in place, his aura brightening like a flare, then dimming once more.

Crunch bowed deeply, replying back in his native language so fast that Terry couldn’t follow any of it. But he did feel the aura brush against his senses. He tried to parse it, peel away the layers to identify the context of their conversation, but the elder turned away, drawing an end to the conversation.

“Crunch?” Terry whispered.

The ghoul hesitated. “Hard explain. Later, my prince.”

Before he could press the issue, the patches pulled the Evolution Chamber doors open and the hallway burst into activity. At his side, Crunch moved away, approaching one of the ghouls carrying a body. He held out his arm expectantly. The ghoul in question paused, then transferred the weight to Crunch, who hoisted the limp ghoul corpse onto his shoulder with a flex of his legs.

He wondered if there was something symbolic about carrying the dead and filed the question away for later as Crunch strode back to his side.

The elder ghoul passed through the threshold first, followed closely by the liches in their dark robes. He tried to see what lay beyond, but the press of bodies created a wall that blocked his sight.

When the ghouls carrying the seven bodies—including Crunch—started forward, Terry shifted his weight indecisively. He glanced at the other ghouls in attendance not carrying the dead and wondered if he should enter with them.

He had just decided to wait when Crunch looked back and saw him hesitating.

“Prince follow.”

He let out a sigh of relief and rushed to match pace with the ghoul. It wasn’t that he felt unsafe with the other ghouls, but more so he had started to feel like an unwelcome interloper, a fraud crashing a funeral of someone he only pretended to know.

With Crunch encouraging him forward, it felt as if he had been vouched for and his unease settled a bit.

As they passed the threshold, his feet shifted from stone to a yielding surface that seemed to give like sand. A glance down confirmed that they were walking on what appeared to be black pebbles extending out to the left and right. The procession marched forward, spreading out to either side so that he caught his first proper glimpse of the chamber.

A black pebble beach stretched a hundred feet to either side and another hundred in front of them, abutting against a tar like substance that sloshed against the shore in undulating waves. It was thick like molasses and pitch black, reflecting the light from the doorway without revealing anything beneath its surface. Lining the beach were evenly spaced lanterns perched atop poles. They emitted a sickly green light that cast an unearthly glow across the black pebbles. Just beneath the lanterns, thin canoes waited and Terry felt his stomach roll over.

We’re getting on those canoes and paddling into this pitch-black lake, aren’t we?

The crunch of undead feet and Terry’s tennis shoes echoed in the cavern as they marched toward the canoes. To distract from his racing heart, he scanned above, straining through the dark to determine the dimensions of the chamber. The walls to either side extended up and out of sight, the dim green light of the lanterns and the thin stream of yellow light from the doorway losing the battle against the thick shadows above. It was even worse across the tar lake, the blackness of its surface seeming to mingle with the darkness to create a maw on the horizon that ate the light.

A deep thud slammed into Terry’s senses, followed by another in quick succession. The light emanating from the hallway disappeared at the same time, enveloping the procession in a near-total darkness that was alleviated solely by the green lanterns now fifty feet away. An animal instinct screamed inside him to run toward the doors. An echoing sound began filling the chamber, heavy breaths like a panicked beast running from the hunter.

He spun to find the source of the sound, only to realize it was his own ragged breathing. None of the undead needed to breathe. The realization that he was on the verge of a panic attack only made things worse and he glanced in the direction they had come, feeling like an absolute idiot for thinking he belonged here.

This place isn’t for me. I don’t belong here. Every second I stand here hyperventilating like a baby is just another humiliation piled on my shoulders. The doors are roughly that way. I’ll just head back and wait—

A deep voice came from right behind him, causing him to flinch and whirl around.

“Do not be afraid, Prince Terry. This is our domain. You have our safe passage.”

The ghoul elder towered over him, a soft look in his eyes reflecting in the dim green light—almost sympathetic.

How had he moved so quietly?

“Oh, uh, I wasn’t…” He stopped the lie before it could materialize. Of course he had been afraid. Still was. How could he not be afraid of the dark after Tenebrous? “Thank you, I’m coming.”

The elder nodded, his steps light as he returned to the waiting procession. Realizing that everyone had stopped and was watching him, he hurried to follow, pulling up beside Crunch. They exchanged a glance but Terry looked away quickly, far too embarrassed and conscious of the eerie quiet to say anything.

The ghouls carrying the seven dead deposited them into separate canoes, then each picked up a pole with a green lantern. For a moment, Terry feared they were going to leave him on the beach in the dark, but then Crunch waved him toward the canoe he was standing in front of and Terry boarded gratefully. It rocked precariously as he shuffled past the dead ghoul, but it was still mostly beached, which stabilized it.

His relief was short lived as one of the lich followed behind him, taking a position beside him on the bench. He didn’t know what he had expected, but sharing a bench with one of the undead of the enigmatic lich caste had not been it. Before he could revisit his second thoughts, Crunch used the pole lantern to push them off the beach and into the lake. On either side of them, six more canoes were shoved off, leaving a handful of ghouls on the beachhead to watch.

As Crunch poled them forward, Terry squirmed on the bench beside the lich. They were a strange subset of the undead that he had both interacted with frequently and yet knew very little about. They always wore robes covering them head to toe, hiding everything about their appearance. Despite the secrecy, they were far and away the most eloquent of the undead and had no trouble speaking human languages—except for their sibilant lisps. As far as Terry was aware, their role among the undead were ritual—and in some cases, magical. But he had never heard of one being a physical threat.

The lich at his side cut through the silence like a dull knife and Terry flinched, nearly capsizing the boat.

“This chamber,” the lich hissed, “is the wealth of our clan, my prince.”

Its voice was soft, solemn, and Terry’s racing heart settled as he contemplated those words.

“How…how is that?” he asked, keeping his own voice barely above a whisper.

Even in the darkness, he spotted the ghoul elder poling away on the next canoe, his golden torc flashing in the green lantern light. The giant ghoul glanced over and for a moment, Terry wondered if he was breaking the sanctity of the chamber by asking stupid questions. But even in the eerie green lighting, the elder’s expression seemed curious more than anything.

The lich leaned over the side of the boat, trailing his hand through the black sludge before holding it up for Terry to see. “The lifeblood of our people.” His hand dipped below and came up with a tar-soaked bone long enough to be a femur. “The bones of our people.” He gently placed the bone back into the lake, but not before Terry caught a glimpse of his delicate, skeletal hand. Leaning forward, the lich pressed that hand against the dead ghoul’s head at their feet, his robe turning toward Terry. “The spirit of our people.”

“How does it work?”

“Ahhh, this black substance is the blood of the mother. It binds the spirit to the flesh—”

The boat shuddered to a stop and Terry looked around to see that all seven were stopped in a semi-circle around a point in the lake. Unlike the placid waves he’d noticed before, the spot they circled was bubbling like boiling oil.

“Another time, my prince,” the lich whispered.

He nodded absentmindedly, his eyes locked on that bubbling spot. He half expected something to leap out and latch onto the canoe. The boat shifted slightly, pulling his attention from the black pool to where Crunch was anchoring the lantern pole into a slot at the back. Across each canoe, the other ghouls were doing the same, while the liches began to rise to their feet.

He hesitated a moment, wondering if he should also stand, but decided against it. The image of tipping the canoe and Crunch reaching in to pull him out of this bubbling substance like a drowning kitten kept him seated.

When all the lanterns were anchored and everyone but Terry were on their feet, the singing began.