Caldari
Civire
2.60
Selferis Ikezawa
Last Active:
about 1 month ago
Birthday:
Mar 25, 2015 (10 years old)
Next Birthday:
Mar 25, 2026 (139 days remaining)
Combat Metrics
Kills
0
Losses
30
Efficiency
0.0%
Danger Ratio
0.0%
ISK Metrics
ISK Killed
0 ISK
ISK Lost
266.13M ISK
ISK Efficiency
0.0%
ISK Balance
-266,126,599 ISK
Solo Activity
Solo Kills
0
Solo Losses
17
Solo Kill Ratio
0%
Solo Efficiency
0.0%
Other Metrics
NPC Losses
0
NPC Loss Ratio
0.0
Avg. Kills/Day
0.0
Activity
Low
Character Biography
Selferis Ikezawa lived in the vast, echoing silence of the deep void. His home was the Stardust Drifter, a clunky old freighter with more rust than ambition. He navigated the endless, shimmering expanse of the Veridian Nebula, a ghost himself among the cosmic dust. Most nights, he'd be haunted by the last transmission from the Cassiopeia, the ship he'd left behind, the crew he'd failed. Their spectral voices were a constant companion in the emptiness.
Today, a new signal pulsed through his ancient comms. It wasn’t a distress call, but a harmonic frequency, a hauntingly familiar tune. It was the Cassiopeia's signature. A phantom.
He set a course, his hands trembling on the navigation console. His logical mind screamed it was impossible, a radiation-induced echo, a memory made manifest. But his heart, long a dormant satellite in the cold of space, burned with a fierce, reckless hope.
Days turned into weeks as he drifted deeper into the nebula’s heart, the ghostly tune growing stronger. Finally, the Cassiopeia appeared. Not as a wrecked husk, but in a shimmering state of disrepair, held together by strands of quantum light. A temporal anomaly. It was a ghost ship caught between moments, replaying its final seconds.
Selferis docked, his breath fogging the viewport. He found no bodies, no blood, just the cold, sterile environment of a ship frozen in a moment of panic. The final log entry flickered on a terminal, a message from his co-pilot, Alistair. "Selferis, you left because you saw it coming. Don't carry our fear. Don't carry this silence."
The quantum echo wasn't a cry for help; it was a final message of forgiveness. Tears streamed down Selferis's face. He knew then that the silence hadn't been their choice, but his. He was the one who had made the void his prison.
He took a deep breath, released the clamps, and let the Stardust Drifter drift free. As the quantum echo of the Cassiopeia faded behind him, he knew he wasn't running anymore. He was simply moving on. And for the first time in years, the silence of the void wasn't empty. It was his.
Gemini AI thank you for this
Today, a new signal pulsed through his ancient comms. It wasn’t a distress call, but a harmonic frequency, a hauntingly familiar tune. It was the Cassiopeia's signature. A phantom.
He set a course, his hands trembling on the navigation console. His logical mind screamed it was impossible, a radiation-induced echo, a memory made manifest. But his heart, long a dormant satellite in the cold of space, burned with a fierce, reckless hope.
Days turned into weeks as he drifted deeper into the nebula’s heart, the ghostly tune growing stronger. Finally, the Cassiopeia appeared. Not as a wrecked husk, but in a shimmering state of disrepair, held together by strands of quantum light. A temporal anomaly. It was a ghost ship caught between moments, replaying its final seconds.
Selferis docked, his breath fogging the viewport. He found no bodies, no blood, just the cold, sterile environment of a ship frozen in a moment of panic. The final log entry flickered on a terminal, a message from his co-pilot, Alistair. "Selferis, you left because you saw it coming. Don't carry our fear. Don't carry this silence."
The quantum echo wasn't a cry for help; it was a final message of forgiveness. Tears streamed down Selferis's face. He knew then that the silence hadn't been their choice, but his. He was the one who had made the void his prison.
He took a deep breath, released the clamps, and let the Stardust Drifter drift free. As the quantum echo of the Cassiopeia faded behind him, he knew he wasn't running anymore. He was simply moving on. And for the first time in years, the silence of the void wasn't empty. It was his.
Gemini AI thank you for this