This article, Kyros, was written by IshmaelOTDOP. Please do not edit this fiction without the writer's permission.

Created-by: IshmaelOTDOP
Origin: Unknown
Threat Level: Unknown
Personal Data
Real Name: Unknown
Known Aliases: None
Species: Unknown, Presumed Human
Age: Unknown
Height: 6'7"
Weight: 20 lbs
Eye Color: White
Hair Color: None
Biographical Data
Nationality: Unknown
Occupation: Apprentice Fisherman
Place of Birth: Sahara, Presumably Egypt
Base of Operations: None
Marital Status: Single
Known Relatives: Unknown
Known Powers
Can turn water into blood
Known Abilities
Seemingly endless knowledge, Seemingly endless stamina
No additional information available.

"Do I exist, or is this just some dream, a blink of conscious stream amidst a process? Am I to truly be, or am I just another one of these whores, struggling to find my place? Nay, I shall make my own, and damned be any who stand in my way!"



When the lights went out, everyone on Earth was in panic. Nobody knew the how or the why, but on that night, something happened. No power, no heat. For one hour in the night it seemed some strange nuclear winter had befallen the planet. Some strange mystical occurrence, with each major faction on the planet pointing a finger at the other. Threats abound, but an answer was not to be had...

Deep in the Sahara Desert, a pool of glass lay sizzling with the heat of the sun, sand baked into an endlessly deep block of wonder that stretched a mile from it's center. There, in the middle, lay Kyros. As he shook himself into his first moment of consciousness, he looked around at his odd surrounding. He did not know why it seemed odd, but he knew it should not be. He then began to wonder exactly the same thing about himself. He seemed to know everything, but he understood nothing. One thought rang in his mind, the only thought without purpose: "Kyros". So he knew this is what he must be called. A word without meaning.

He knew things. He knew his form was human, but he did not know why he appeared that way. He knew he was fully-formed, but he did not understand why he had no memory of growing up. He didn't even know what "growing" was. He simply seemed to know the concepts. He did not, and never will know how long he stayed in that spot, contemplating all these phantasmal things. Least of which was what separated him even more, a strange glow that came from his face.

Once he began to get frustrated with his own thoughts, he began to walk. Walking miles and miles, he came across the first body of water he had ever seen. He felt odd, and searched his strange thoughts for what he might be feeling, and came across the perfect description: "Thirsty". He knelt down by the water's edge and stuck his cupped hands in to drink. Instantly, the cool, clear liquid thickened and turned a dark red. He took a sip, and agreed with himself that it tasted much like copper, but once again, he was unsure of what copper was. As the liquid poured down his throat, he began to want more, and continued to cup more water, sending splotches of blood traveling down the stream. As if an accident, he looked into the crystal clear water and saw his reflection. His naked face was covered with a deep impression in the shape of a "V" that glowed softly, a bright and endearing blue. He touched his face, amazed at his new discovery.

Eventually his thirst was sated, and he walked with the water till he came to a small outpost. The locals began to whisper as he walked, but he did not give them time. He knew what they were saying, and believed he could speak the language, but had no feeling present that brought forth the want to communicate. He walked on, passing outposts, and following the river through towns and cities, until he came to a large body of water. From there, he decided to swim. He crossed the Mediterranean from Egypt, following the current at times, until he came to a place where the people spoke "Spanish". Once again, he recognized the language and knew what they were saying, but never once stopped to converse. He continued on, drinking, walking and swimming until he came to England. There, he was greeted, for the first time since he awoke, by a fisherman on the coast.

The man immediately walked up to him and beckoned him to follow. Understanding, Kyros did as he was told. The man wrapped his naked form in a thick, woolen blanket, and for the first time, Kyros was asked a question:

"What is your name?"

Kyros responded, and the man, whom called himself Gregory, began to pluck his brain, trying to grasp this creature's journey. Eventually, Gregory decided it was time for sleep, and showed Kyros a place in his small cabin where he could bed. Kyros spent the night, unable to sleep, but he felt he had slept long enough.

Eventually he would make his way in the world, but he knew nothing about himself, save that he was not as human as he might have thought.


While the true breadth of his powers are unknown, he does have some mystical capabilities:

  • Ability to turn water into blood.
  • A seemingly endless supply of knowledge
  • An unending stamina
  • No need for rest
  • No need for food
  • Formidable Strength


  • Bloodthirst: Very taxing, usually requiring drinking four to five gallons a day.
  • Unable to utilize most of the knowledge he possesses
  • Restless thought patterns lead to severe mood swings
  • Distinguishing facial mark


This being cannot be classified as of yet.

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