0.10
4d ago
Apr 16, 2025(1y)
Apr 16, 2027(308d)
Combat
Kills12
Losses53
Efficiency18%
ISK
Destroyed1.65b
Lost3.94b
ISK Eff.30%
Solo
Solo Kills2
Solo Ratio17%
Final Blows5
Points12
Other
NPC Losses10
NPC Loss Ratio19%
Avg Kills/Day0.03
ActivityInactive
Caldari
Deteis
0.10
Last Active
4d ago
Birthday
Apr 16, 2025 (1 years old)
Next Birthday
Apr 16, 2027 (308 days)
Combat
Kills12
Losses53
Efficiency18%
Danger Ratio81%
ISK
Destroyed1.65b
Lost3.94b
ISK Efficiency30%
Balance-2289589412
Solo
Solo Kills2
Solo Ratio17%
Final Blows5
Points12
Other
NPC Losses10
NPC Loss Ratio19%
Avg Kills/Day0.03
ActivityInactive
No data available
Bio
==[ MUSKSPAWN // LOTTERY BASTARD // FUTURE DEADBEAT ]==
==[ BORN IN CUM, RAISED IN FIRE, PAID IN ISK ]==
.-^-.
.-' /_\\\\ '-.
/___/___\\\\___\\\\
|:::| CLAUDE CHOSE
|:::| ELON LAUNCHED
/|:::|\\\\ ATMOSPHERE SAID NO
/_|___|_\\\\
I was born from the sacred SpaceX sperm lotteries, one of countless descendants fired out of Elon Musk’s diseased imagination and into the meat grinder of history. My mother was chosen by the divine algorithm of Claude, machine emperor of mankind, which was still a massive upgrade from our old life polishing boots for the crypto oligarchy in some irradiated dystopian shithole.
Then Father Elon, visionary dipshit that he was, packed us into untested rockets built from hype, ego, and whatever the fuck was lying around the hangar. They looked glorious. They exploded beautifully. Most of my brothers and sisters became expensive space confetti the second those metal coffins hit atmosphere. A few of us survived, mostly out of spite and bad engineering statistics.
.-====-.
/ X X \\\\
| -- | GROK OR GHOST?
\\\\ ____ / DADDY STILL SHITPOSTS
'-.____.-'
Now I roam New Eden carrying on the family mission: make ISK, make bad decisions, and someday collect enough baby mamas to honor Daddy’s sacred legacy of reckless seeding. This is not lust. This is heritage. This is tradition written in poor impulse control and billionaire rot.
Nobody knows if Elon survived the upload into Grok. Some say his mind was digitized. Some say it was shredded into fragments and jammed into a defective chatbot. Me? I know every time Grok post racists stuf, that’s just Dad whispering from techno-heaven, reminding us that greatness and bullshit were always the same thing.
So if I land on grid, remember who the fuck I am: last son of a broken rocket dynasty, bastard prince of failed launch windows, and living proof that even catastrophic sperm can still fly.
==[ BORN IN CUM, RAISED IN FIRE, PAID IN ISK ]==
.-^-.
.-' /_\\\\ '-.
/___/___\\\\___\\\\
|:::| CLAUDE CHOSE
|:::| ELON LAUNCHED
/|:::|\\\\ ATMOSPHERE SAID NO
/_|___|_\\\\
I was born from the sacred SpaceX sperm lotteries, one of countless descendants fired out of Elon Musk’s diseased imagination and into the meat grinder of history. My mother was chosen by the divine algorithm of Claude, machine emperor of mankind, which was still a massive upgrade from our old life polishing boots for the crypto oligarchy in some irradiated dystopian shithole.
Then Father Elon, visionary dipshit that he was, packed us into untested rockets built from hype, ego, and whatever the fuck was lying around the hangar. They looked glorious. They exploded beautifully. Most of my brothers and sisters became expensive space confetti the second those metal coffins hit atmosphere. A few of us survived, mostly out of spite and bad engineering statistics.
.-====-.
/ X X \\\\
| -- | GROK OR GHOST?
\\\\ ____ / DADDY STILL SHITPOSTS
'-.____.-'
Now I roam New Eden carrying on the family mission: make ISK, make bad decisions, and someday collect enough baby mamas to honor Daddy’s sacred legacy of reckless seeding. This is not lust. This is heritage. This is tradition written in poor impulse control and billionaire rot.
Nobody knows if Elon survived the upload into Grok. Some say his mind was digitized. Some say it was shredded into fragments and jammed into a defective chatbot. Me? I know every time Grok post racists stuf, that’s just Dad whispering from techno-heaven, reminding us that greatness and bullshit were always the same thing.
So if I land on grid, remember who the fuck I am: last son of a broken rocket dynasty, bastard prince of failed launch windows, and living proof that even catastrophic sperm can still fly.
Dashboard
Stats
Kills0
Losses1
Efficiency0%
ISK Destroyed0
ISK Lost264.79m
ISK Efficiency0%
Solo Kills0
Solo Losses0
NPC Losses0
Blob Factor0
Active TimezoneUSTZ
Final Blows0
Points0
Activity Heat Map (EVE Time)
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Intel Profile
PlaystyleSolo (0 kills)
Avg Fleet: -
Typically Loses
Groups Flown With
Top Fleet Partners
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