CONSCRIPT 27-ECHO

[Bozo]

Spoiler: THEME

C O N S C R I P T 2 7 E C H O

CALLSIGN: 27-ECHO
REAL NAME: Classified (because even he forgot it)
AFFILIATION: Conscripted Auxiliary, Eastern Consolidation Zone (Pripyat Sector)
Status: Alive (unfortunately)
Age: Somewhere between “used to care” and “completely over it”

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BACKSTORY:


27-ECHO was conscripted by the Combine from one of the early penal sweeps post-Seven Hour War. Not a rebel, not a soldier—just some poor bastard in the wrong place with the wrong expression on his face. He had a talent for surviving, keeping his head down, and saying just enough to avoid re-education. Naturally, they gave him a rifle, a designation, and dumped him in the Pripyat Zone to keep watch over an area that nobody sane wanted to patrol.


Over the years, he’s watched entire squads vanish into fog, seen buildings rearrange themselves overnight, and even drank water that whispered to him once. He’s been stationed so long, he’s become more rumor than man. The higher-ups forgot to reassign him. The paperwork looped. So now he just keeps broadcasting—part warning, part venting, part comedy act for whoever's still out there listening.


He's not loyal to the Combine. He’s not a rebel sympathizer either. He’s just tired. Tired of the monsters, the bureaucracy, the cold, and definitely tired of rebel teens thinking they're messiahs with stolen stun batons.


And yet, every day, he keeps checking in on the same broken transmitter—because someone’s gotta say something before the fungus eats everyone.


RELATIONSHIPS:

I HATE EVERYONE EQUALLY.​