GREY, ROY

26

MALE

HETEROSEXUAL

TASK

TACTICAL OPERATIONS AGENT

PURGE

Roy is willing to do whatever is asked of him, regardless of the ethical dilemmas presented. He is one of Biome II's most fearless agents, and goes out of his way to seem like one of the most loyal. He'll do whatever it takes to get what he wants, no matter what the cost; and that, my friends, makes him an unfathomably dangerous person. He has spent much of his life trying to appear like the perfect operative. He doesn't ask questions. He doesn't propose alternatives. He does what he is told, and he does it without failure. However, this man is far from being a bright beacon of nationalism. 

Roy Grey doesn't like the government for any other reason than that they derailed him from assuming the position he wanted. He wanted to rule. He wanted to be a director. He wanted nothing more than to command the legions of workers under him, and make Biome II strong. However, the same government he wanted to rule killed his parents. He has no issues with their less-than-ethical solutions, or authoritarian rule. He does, however, have a problem with people getting in his way. And the entirety of the government, unfortunately, did that. By killing his powerful parents, they left Roy deprived of not only his opportunity at normal political ascension, but also a "normal" life. It is unfortunate that they left him such a disparate people. Desperate people do desperate things. They will fall. They will pay. They will beg. They will follow. He will rule.

You want something? You know how to get it? Do it. There are no if's, and's, or but's. The only thing ever stopping you is yourself, and that's your own damn fault. People are going to stand in your way. There are going to be distractions. You may have to put in more effort than others; but you will succeed. You will accomplish what you want. The obstacles will be overcame. Failure is something for the weak to deal with.

You're satisfied with being a guard? That's cute. You're too scared that the government is going to do away with you to make anything of yourself? Weakling. The only in this world that matters is the climb. Climb for the top. Demand power, and take all that you can get. Show the sheep that they need a wolf to survive. We all have needs. We all have wants. Some of us are just willing to admit it more than others.

There has never been a great leader who has let his enemies live to spite him. There has never been a conqueror who debates the ethics of his actions, lest he wish to conquer twice. Do whatever it takes to get the job done. Leave no traces that you were there. Don't be afraid to step on the people who won't let you aside. Be efficient. Be strong. Be ruthless. 

BACKSTORY

Life isn't about how much you can hope. It's not about how optimistic you are. It isn't about trying to just get by and accepting whatever happens to you as the best possible outcome. Life is much more harsh than that. Its about finding what you want, and seeing how far you're willing to go to get it. Some people can barely sacrifice a night without a warm bed.

Others can sacrifice their humanity itself.

Roy Grey, better known by his codename "R", was brought up in Alpha District as the son of a leading weapons engineer and the military board director. He was fed a silver spoon for the first few years of his life and educated in Biome II's most advanced facilities. His mother and father were something of superstars in Alpha District, and they never stopped telling him that if he wanted something, he had to go out and take it. Roy was brought up to be a ruthless political figure with the world at his fingertips. He was bred for power. He was made to crave it. He needed it.

But at the age of 12, his parents were killed in an unfortunate weapons testing procedure gone wrong (or at least, that is what the investigating officer told the boy). His father had been stirring up some trouble on the board by questioning the ethics of a weapon his wife had been ordered to develop. Roy knew that even though the evidence pointed toward an accident, the true cause of this was foul play. The government wanted them dead.

He didn't cry out. He didn't point fingers. He bid his time. He honed his mind and his body. He ensured that he was picked up to be a special operations agent. His natural ability and indomitable work ethic led him to be one of best at his job. He surpassed his peers quickly, and was merciless in whatever petty job they had him do.

Recognizing his aptitude, the board decided to turn their new toy into a deadly weapon. They enhanced him. They made him faster. His steps became silent. No guard could catch him, and there was no one on the earth who could hear him if he wanted to be silent. Roy moved from shadow to shadow, from target to target. Nothing kept him from completing his mission.

Make an unruly government official disappear? Done.

Kill a doctor and make it look like gang violence? Done.

Kidnap a child who showed elemental affinity? Done.

Roy now primarily works with high value targets, such as board directors and people who have exposed their elemental affinities explicitly. He is known for being efficient, clean, and mostly unseen. He is one of the board's most valuable agents for not only his skill, but also his seeming unwavering patriotism.

0345, WEAPONS DEVELOPMENT - NUCLEAR LABORATORY, BERTHING

Closets were such nasty places. It smelled like the person who owned the clothes within them, and lab techs were far from being the most hygienic citizens in Biome II. The smell of unwashed pubic hair and aging food stains left the confined space to be pungent, to say the least. This is how lab techs lived, as far as Roy could tell. They woke up, put on their disgusting little lab coats, and toiled away at whatever useless project the government had them assigned to. After they finished, they would hang up their disgusting little lab coats, and go to bed. Don't wash, don't rinse, repeat. 

This was far from the worst of situations Roy had found himself in. There had been that time where he had to watch an elder politician have his way with a poor member of the labor board. There was also that time he had been caught by a little girl, and had to frame her little brother for her murder by knocking him out and covering his hands in blood. It was all just so unclean. Why did working as a tactical operative have to come with so much shit? It didn't matter. He would sit here. He would wait. His target had left the room for just a second.

He dashed in through the closing door right behind the fat pig. This man had been causing quite a bit of trouble among his workplace. He kept talking of how using nuclear bombs to clear out the Void was so dangerous, and how it would endanger any of the people who lived near the fringes of the sector. It really was a terrible time to grow a conscience, with the potentials becoming more and more frequent. His death had been ordered to look like a heart attack. It seemed like a plausible enough cause for a natural death for an older, obese gentleman. 

Oh! There he was! 

Roy stared at his target through this slits in the closet doors. Just as he had expected, the man had brought a glass of water back to bed. He took a drink, set it down, and went to the bathroom. The average male took approximately 15 seconds in the washroom to take a piss, if he didn't was his hands. That was plenty of time. As soon as the door to the bathroom closed, the assassin ducked out of the closet quickly and quietly. 

Sprinkle some tasteless powder in his drink. Stir it around a little bit. Hide. 

He rolled under the fat man's bed just as he was opening the door. The light didn't even touch Roy. Though he was a little cramped as the fat scientist sat down on his bed, he was all too fine with his lack of comfort as he heard his target take a drink of his poisoned water. 20 seconds later, he felt the man wriggling on his bed. The fat fuck was about to scream. Silence him. 

Roy rolled out and saw the man's eyes widen in fear. He knew this was the end. The operative put a finger to his lips as he covered the man's mouth with his own pillow. He pressed down. He struggled for a little bit, but he was much too weak to actually get free. His body was left twitching as the fading signals from his brain began to burn out for the last time. 

Just another job. 

MADE BY KIROUKO OF GANGNAM-STYLE