Jacob Sertan
Apr 3, 2020
May 12, 2013(12y)
May 12, 2026(21d)
Combat
Kills6
Losses123
Efficiency5%
ISK
Destroyed1.31b
Lost49.85b
ISK Eff.3%
Solo
Solo Kills4
Solo Ratio67%
Final Blows5
Points6
Other
NPC Losses13
NPC Loss Ratio11%
Avg Kills/Day0.00
ActivityInactive
Jacob Sertan
Last Active
Apr 3, 2020
Birthday
May 12, 2013 (12 years old)
Next Birthday
May 12, 2026 (21 days)
Combat
Kills6
Losses123
Efficiency5%
Danger Ratio89%
ISK
Destroyed1.31b
Lost49.85b
ISK Efficiency3%
Balance-48539761592
Solo
Solo Kills4
Solo Ratio67%
Final Blows5
Points6
Other
NPC Losses13
NPC Loss Ratio11%
Avg Kills/Day0.00
ActivityInactive
No data available
Bio
Khanid Pureblood • Fouder of Ironveil Industries • Warden of the Veil
Jacob Sertan was born of True Amarr lineage within the black bastions of the Khanid Kingdom—fortresses that echoed with hymns carved in fire and chains. His childhood was shaped by cold scripture and merciless discipline. Priests taught him that obedience was salvation, pain was purification, and doubt was a sin deserving of ash.
He excelled. He obeyed. He broke others before he ever thought to question himself.
But the scriptures had a blind spot—the void.
During a sealed-record campaign beyond the Kingdom’s lawful frontier, Sertan and his strike unit encountered phenomena that the Theology Council still denies exist. In the silent dark between uncharted stars, their warships drifted into the wake of ancient presences—shapes without form, intentions without emotion, vast intelligences that moved like thoughts left behind by extinct gods.
They did not attack. They did not communicate. They simply were.
And in that terrible indifference, Sertan understood how small every empire truly was.
The Amarr taught that the divine shaped mankind.
The void revealed that mankind was unshaped, unnoticed, unmeant.
His crew died in ways scripture had no language for—some wordless, some raving, some dissolving into patterns that sensors refused to map. Sertan alone returned, carrying fragments of geometry in his mind and a revelation carved into his bones.
When he spoke of what he had seen, priests called him heretic. Nobles turned their eyes away. Inquisitors whispered that madness had hollowed him out. But Sertan knew the truth: their faith was not built to survive the things drifting just outside the light.
He fled execution not out of fear, but contempt. The Kingdom had forged him as a weapon; the abyss sharpened him into something colder.
**“Beyond the firmament lies a silence older than God.
And in that silence drift the formless, the unfathomed,
the watchers who neither bless nor curse.
They do not see us.
They do not need to.
And man—gloried man—is but a fleeting spark
passing unnoticed across their eternal sleep.”
For the veil between man and the godless deep is thin.
And he is its unwilling, and unbroken warden.
Jacob Sertan was born of True Amarr lineage within the black bastions of the Khanid Kingdom—fortresses that echoed with hymns carved in fire and chains. His childhood was shaped by cold scripture and merciless discipline. Priests taught him that obedience was salvation, pain was purification, and doubt was a sin deserving of ash.
He excelled. He obeyed. He broke others before he ever thought to question himself.
But the scriptures had a blind spot—the void.
During a sealed-record campaign beyond the Kingdom’s lawful frontier, Sertan and his strike unit encountered phenomena that the Theology Council still denies exist. In the silent dark between uncharted stars, their warships drifted into the wake of ancient presences—shapes without form, intentions without emotion, vast intelligences that moved like thoughts left behind by extinct gods.
They did not attack. They did not communicate. They simply were.
And in that terrible indifference, Sertan understood how small every empire truly was.
The Amarr taught that the divine shaped mankind.
The void revealed that mankind was unshaped, unnoticed, unmeant.
His crew died in ways scripture had no language for—some wordless, some raving, some dissolving into patterns that sensors refused to map. Sertan alone returned, carrying fragments of geometry in his mind and a revelation carved into his bones.
When he spoke of what he had seen, priests called him heretic. Nobles turned their eyes away. Inquisitors whispered that madness had hollowed him out. But Sertan knew the truth: their faith was not built to survive the things drifting just outside the light.
He fled execution not out of fear, but contempt. The Kingdom had forged him as a weapon; the abyss sharpened him into something colder.
**“Beyond the firmament lies a silence older than God.
And in that silence drift the formless, the unfathomed,
the watchers who neither bless nor curse.
They do not see us.
They do not need to.
And man—gloried man—is but a fleeting spark
passing unnoticed across their eternal sleep.”
For the veil between man and the godless deep is thin.
And he is its unwilling, and unbroken warden.
Dashboard
Stats
Kills0
Losses0
Efficiency0%
ISK Destroyed0
ISK Lost0
ISK Efficiency0%
Solo Kills0
Solo Losses0
NPC Losses0
Blob Factor0
Active TimezoneUSTZ
Final Blows0
Points0
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Intel Profile
PlaystyleSolo (0 kills)
Avg Fleet: -
Groups Flown With
Top Fleet Partners