Leif Anlur Eriksson

Born in a cloning vat that immediately filed for overtime. From day one, they demonstrated a natural talent for two things: pressing the wrong button with absolute confidence and surviving consequences out of pure administrative error.

Their early career was marked by a series of “strategic accidents,” including inventing a new doctrine called “Oops All Prop Mods,” and successfully FC’ing a fleet directly into a star “for morale.” They claim the screams over comms were “team-building exercises.”

They do not fly ships so much as emotionally inhabit them. Hull integrity drops when they’re bored. Modules activate out of fear. Insurance agents send them holiday cards that read, “Please stop.”

They once scanned down a wormhole chain so convoluted it looped back into their own past mistakes. Instead of leaving, they anchored a can labeled “DO NOT OPEN (OPEN ME)” and waited. They are still waiting.

Their wallet fluctuates between “catastrophically broke” and “concerningly wealthy” depending on whether they remember they own assets. They insist they are winning every engagement on a philosophical level, even when their pod is on fire.

Rumors persist that CONCORD tried to fine them preemptively. The fine paid itself.

Their clones are unionizing.