Dec 10, 2025
Sep 17, 2017(8y)
Sep 17, 2026(18d)
Combat
Kills52
Losses110
Efficiency32%
ISK
Destroyed30.83b
Lost15.34b
ISK Eff.67%
Solo
Solo Kills3
Solo Ratio6%
Final Blows3
Points52
Other
NPC Losses39
NPC Loss Ratio35%
Avg Kills/Day0.02
ActivityInactive
Amarr
Khanid
3.60
Last Active
Dec 10, 2025
Birthday
Sep 17, 2017 (8 years old)
Next Birthday
Sep 17, 2026 (18 days)
Combat
Kills52
Losses110
Efficiency32%
Danger Ratio65%
ISK
Destroyed30.83b
Lost15.34b
ISK Efficiency67%
Balance+15.49b
Solo
Solo Kills3
Solo Ratio6%
Final Blows3
Points52
Other
NPC Losses39
NPC Loss Ratio35%
Avg Kills/Day0.02
ActivityInactive
Nothing in the last 7d
Bio
The Watchman of the Void
The cockpit is a sterile cocoon against the inky expanse. No stars, no constellations - just the void. A void so deep, so absolute, it seems to press in from all sides. It's a pressure not of physical weight, but of existential solitude.
My ship, a veteran explorer, is a mote of dust against this cosmic canvas. Its systems hum with a reassuring rhythm, a constant companion in the silence. The sensors, ever vigilant, cast their nets into the darkness, searching for anomalies, disturbances - anything that might break the monotony of nothingness.
Days turn into weeks. The line between night and day is an artificial construct, a relic of a world far removed. Time stretches and warps, each moment an eternity in the waiting. The mind plays tricks, conjuring phantoms from the void. A flicker of light, a shadow that shifts, a whisper on the static. Each is investigated, each is dismissed.
There's a growing sense of isolation. Not the loneliness of solitude, but the isolation of purpose. I am a sentinel, a guardian of a secret yet to be revealed. The universe is indifferent to my vigil, and yet, I cannot look away.
Then, it happens. A blip. A flicker on the sensor array. Heart pounds, adrenaline surges. The void, for a fleeting moment, is filled with promise. Fingers dance across the controls as I bring every instrument to bear. Is it a mirage? A cosmic joke? Or is it... the beginning?
The waiting continues. The hope, the fear, the anticipation - they are a constant companion now. I am no longer just a pilot, I am a witness. A witness to the unknown, the unknowable. And in this vast, indifferent cosmos, that is a heavy burden to bear.
The cockpit is a sterile cocoon against the inky expanse. No stars, no constellations - just the void. A void so deep, so absolute, it seems to press in from all sides. It's a pressure not of physical weight, but of existential solitude.
My ship, a veteran explorer, is a mote of dust against this cosmic canvas. Its systems hum with a reassuring rhythm, a constant companion in the silence. The sensors, ever vigilant, cast their nets into the darkness, searching for anomalies, disturbances - anything that might break the monotony of nothingness.
Days turn into weeks. The line between night and day is an artificial construct, a relic of a world far removed. Time stretches and warps, each moment an eternity in the waiting. The mind plays tricks, conjuring phantoms from the void. A flicker of light, a shadow that shifts, a whisper on the static. Each is investigated, each is dismissed.
There's a growing sense of isolation. Not the loneliness of solitude, but the isolation of purpose. I am a sentinel, a guardian of a secret yet to be revealed. The universe is indifferent to my vigil, and yet, I cannot look away.
Then, it happens. A blip. A flicker on the sensor array. Heart pounds, adrenaline surges. The void, for a fleeting moment, is filled with promise. Fingers dance across the controls as I bring every instrument to bear. Is it a mirage? A cosmic joke? Or is it... the beginning?
The waiting continues. The hope, the fear, the anticipation - they are a constant companion now. I am no longer just a pilot, I am a witness. A witness to the unknown, the unknowable. And in this vast, indifferent cosmos, that is a heavy burden to bear.
Dashboard
Stats
No activity in the last 90d
Last seen Dec 2025
Intel Profile
PlaystyleSolo (0 kills)
Avg Fleet: -