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The trace, print, or even presence of my whole is null in God’s newly constructed cradle of life. All that is left of the woe that is I, is a name. Though even I have forgotten what I was called.
~ Who?


The Nobody is the physical manifestation of evil that lurked the consciousness of the immortal and man alike. When the trumpets of Rapture came to claim two-thirds of all that existed this Thing in bold and traitorous fashion decided to cultivate everything it saw as Its own. With volatile fury, Hell and Earth wrought witness to the unfettered gluttony of this Nobody to take place, its feast did not even leave a morsel of mankind to spare. With no heaven in sight to have the lost souls It had consumed to an eternal rest, It was alone in a dead world. Alone, forever, to watch as God moved forth and left this Thing in the wreckage of a distilled and abandoned existence. Waiting - dying, a slow death in Its own mind.


The Nobody is ghastly in Its chosen body, a fleshy shell that is coated in fur akin to magma in coloration and soiled in the crimson red remnants of what remained of the universe and its people. It is gangly, Its posture, slouching in Its step as if a backbone had been nonexistent in Its body.

The Nobody’s limbs are elongated and spindly, almost reminiscent of charred branches in their texture. Its legs are goat-like in appearance with the addition of blackened hooves covered in thick coatings of soot and ash to further grace its repulsive complexion. The Nobody carries a vacant stomach on its abdomen, full on nothing but its own rancid breath that It has swapped for itself within an infinite second. A spindly rib cage reveals itself within the Nobody’s chest, jabbing through what little muscle It fails to retain on its body, each bone crooked and almost brittle in its spectacle.

The Thing bears eyes so black that the depths of space failed in assimilating them in their all encompassing shadow; They are a perpetual abyss with vile intention yet solemn in their sight as they lack a target or purpose to spread its evil. A frown is permanently affixed on Its grimace, wrinkled and contorted into sadness, with eternity to cement its stay as a fixture of the Nobody’s harrowing confinement. Bags akin to craters rest themselves beneath to the Nobody’s eye-sockets, tired and stretched with the increasingly lethal grip of it perceives to be time.

Horns twisted into agony root themselves upon the Thing’s head, looking almost parasitic in appearance as it seemingly sucks dry the scraps of the Nobody’s health. Tufts of fur, coal in their color, mane themselves around Its head, gripping tight to the Nobody’s scalp as to not wither away as Its own body. The Nobody's teeth are stained to scum with the maroon blotches of a long-digested ‘meal’ - Jagged to its tip and serrated to the back, a cavern of crimson spikes takes place in Its mouth.

Among the millennia The Nobody was active numerous sacks of flesh have been inducted into Its extensive wardrobe. A serpent of slick tongue was canonized as of one Its infinite facades, small in size yet mighty in Its voice as Its verbal venom would entrench any who would let its words slither into their souls. The Nobody at the early dawn of the Judean Kingdom claimed the face of Ba’al to entice the mortal whims of the then fallen Solomon. Contorting into more malicious masks of the pagan god as the Thing’s grasp tenderly tightened around Solomon’s mind.

Supreme among all the disguises the Nobody cloaks Itself with is the Anointed Cherub. The form is a grotesque mass of biblical scripture made into flesh. Its body is strapped with wings doused in feathers akin to the sun’s bright rays of light. It strides with legs compact with the aesthetics of Greek statues and muscles of Olympic gods. The melded minds of a bull, eagle, and man rest upon the shoulders of the holy abomination; each capable of speech to spin up lies that string along even the most devout to God in their seductiveness.



The Nobody is an entity void of any semblance of humility or compassion, a concept seemingly lost in meaning within Its mind regardless of the eternities it has spent thinking of it alone. Since the Nobody’s inception only mayhem and mischief were fundamentally achieved in Its understanding of human emotions and ideas; an idea so primal it had been second nature for It to be the source of conflict in all situations - regardless of any previous involvement.

Such a drive was fueled by gazing at God and His glittering glamor within the bounds of a then vivid heaven; All love and attention stirred and moved towards the Lord instead of the Thing Itself - a notion that infuriated the Nobody to a vindictive degree, becoming the lit match to Its oil soaked hatred. The Nobody’s grand desire was to claim and maintain the audience of every soul it saw; To become God Himself in a vapid attempt to escape Its servitude, to flee from His shadow. A wish now vacant of a proper meaning, with only corpses and thin wind to lead Its applause as ruler of an infinite nothing.

At present, the Nobody is a hollow husk; Waywardly walking upon the world as raspy breath and silence accompany It in a endless trek composed of bone and blood in search of a non-existent paradise. Time itself has become an active adversary within reach of this Thing’s mind. Decades have molded themselves into the shape of seconds and what It perceives to be hours hide themselves in the bodies of centuries; Each moment tolls the glass mentality of the Nobody as living lacks the chance of ending at Its behest, alive only by God’s sentiment for It to suffer.

Panic and manic desperation to leave its jail stripped the Nobody of a silver tongue and quick wit. Its ears only bear witness to the lies it weaves with the Thing’s mind entangled in the mistruth it accidently spews Itself, further tightening insanity’s grip on Its feeble-ing psyche. Whispers spit under the sleight of Its own breath and occasional vague visions of faded figures from memory voraciously eat away at the Nobody’s mind. Slowly rotting physically and mentally with no foreseeable end to Its divine punishment.

A prison has replaced the Nobody’s brain, every thought that crosses this Thing’s mind is a bar in an increasingly solitary cell. Each memory has a become a remembrance of the Nobody’s now non-existent and long faded façade as a fiendish foe that would scheme to strip God of His luster and glory for Itself; An idea that has vanished as the Nobody’s own mind. Seemingly dissolving into delusion as the Nobody questions if the faint fragments of Its past were reality to begin with.

The Nobody’s existence is gaslit by Its own actions as Its confinement has silenced the notion there was anything beyond this Thing’s prison but the freedom It could never reach. It lives to the least every moment it breaths and sees. The Nobody, forever-more in a perpetual state of confusion and sorrow has even It has forgotten what it has become Itself; Eternally unsure what even it is as Its vacant jail is forever a part of It and It a part of It’s jail. The Nobody has become locked out of Its own body, holding an infinite amount keys that fit none of Its doors. Always shouting to be let in and finding no response in return.

Power and Stats

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Tier: Unknown

Alias: Nobody, Thing, Pest, ___ _____ , The God of Earth, Ba'al , The False Morningstar, Beelzebub, Goetia Incarnate

Origin: N/A

Age: N/A

Gender: 'It'

Classification: Neither Applicable nor Recognized as an Entity or Individual

Powers and Abilities: Likely Dimensionless Existence (Type 3), Ideal Shapeshifting, Mind Manipulation, Abstract Existence (Type 1)

Attack Potency: Unknown (Superior to the totality of Heaven, including the likes of the archangels, with the exception of God. Though to what degree and potency has been left vague post Its imprisonment and exclusion from physical contact with anyone. With Its current status and seemingly withering disposition the likelihood of the Nobody being involved or even capable of fighting is unlikely, however the possibility of Nobody's form may be entirely cosmetic; As even still beings like Taxiarch and Tubal-Cain are overwhelmed and confused by the act of viewing Nobody alone. Its own reality was hinted to have been transcendent to the multiverse It observes, to point where the totality of SIEGE is functionally fictional in The Nobody's perspective. Void of the totality of space-time or logic in inhibiting it, but Its damaged mentality make it an impossibility for the fullest extent of Its abilities to be used or displayed on any presentable level.)

Speed: Unknown (Its warped perception of time make it impossible to properly tell if the distances, places, or even speeds the Nobody takes to reach specified locations. Stated everything in Its vision is akin to moving shapes and massive blobs of shadow)

Lifting Strength: Irrelevant

Striking Strength: Unknown

Durability: Unknown

Range: Unknown (Everything within Its grasp seems in and out reach regardless of how far It stretches out to grab)

Stamina: Limitless

Intelligence: Mentally impaired due to isolation, can however produce tangible and intelligent speech dependent on what It sees. Motor skills have been reduced to near bare fundamentals, prone to walk aimlessly for extended periods of 'time' without a reason or cause to. Can go into rabid fits of anger and frenzy with the presence of another entity in its vicinity.

Weaknesses: Insane to an immense capacity; Consistently hallucinating vivid re imaginings of past events and individuals, randomly acts and moves to mimic body spasms in order to maintain some manner of physical stimulation despite being physically incapable of having muscle. All of the bodily ailments the Nobody suffers are mentally composed to prolong Its suffering. Susceptible to own powers and abilities due to extreme personal over exposure.


Notable Victories:

Notable Losses:

Inconclusive Matches: