Cut Crew
Slice. Slash. Silence.
Cut Crew is the surgical enforcement arm of Order within the WRAITH Realm — a unit forged in the alley shadows of the Echo Spine, where walls bleed neon and silence cuts deeper than sound. They don’t paint tags — they carve sigils. They don’t shout warnings — they leave scars.
Every mission is clean. Every exit is silent. Every strike lands like a signature. Cut Crew members are urban reapers — blade-wielding tacticians who operate like living scalpels through glitch-lit city grids. Their weapons phase, vanish, and reappear mid-swing. Their marks are precise. Permanent.
To wear their symbol is to align with control, precision, and quiet destruction.
Role in the Realm
SPEED
They don’t hold the line.
They break it — fast, clean, and without a sound.
Cut Crew is the kinetic core of the WraithRealm — blades in motion, always one second ahead. While others scheme or stalk, they act. Fast enough to be unseen, sharp enough to leave nothing behind but aftermath.
They don’t wait for chaos.
They outrun it — and erase it on arrival.
If you spotted them,
you missed the moment they mattered.
SLAYMAN
Role:
Faction Leader (The Executioner)
Style:
Oversized hooded robe, battered scythe slung over his shoulder, cracked mask with a neon X across it.
Signature Move:
“Blade Fade” — Disappears mid-swing, finishes strikes from the mist.
Bio:
SLAYMAN runs Cut Crew with brutal precision. No wasted words, no wasted moves. He’s the type who sprays the WRAITHX logo after the job’s done — and only if he’s feeling generous. Leads every mission with a calm “let’s ruin everything” smile.
Vibe:
Dead serious. No drama. Just damage.
Operational Attributes:
(Scored out of 10. Based on field reports, psychic residue, and the occasional intercepted whisper.)
Stealth: 7/10
Quiet for a beast, but doesn’t hide when he can haunt.
Speed: 6/10
He doesn’t need to chase when the world freezes at his swing.
Chaos: 5/10
Only if you count absolute destruction as chaos.
Intellect: 9/10
Plans every strike like a game of ghostly chess.
Sarcasm: 2/10
If he jokes, the world ends.
Power: 10/10
One swing clears a street.
Style: 7/10
Doesn’t dress to impress. Dresses to terrify.
Loyalty: 10/10
Cut Crew is his creed. He’d bleed mist for them.
SWAYZE
Role:
Stealth Specialist
Style:
Long trench coat, mist-shrouded scythe, mirrored shades no matter the weather.
Signature Move:
“Ghost Glide” — Moves through walls, skips alarms, vanishes mid-chase.
Bio:
Swayze drifts through missions like mist under a locked door. Chill, witty, and impossible to catch. While others swing scythes, he ghost-walks in, tags his mark, and leaves before the screams even start.
Vibe:
Too slick to stick around. Makes haunting look easy.
Operational Attributes:
(Scored out of 10. Based on field reports, psychic residue, and the occasional intercepted whisper.)
Stealth: 10/10
He’s the reason shadows feel watched.
Speed: 9/10
Glides through solid walls like they’re polite suggestions.
Chaos: 6/10
Leaves confusion, never a mess.
Intellect: 7/10
Outthinks systems before he outmoves them.
Sarcasm: 9/10
He’s already mocking you — stylishly.
Power: 4/10
Doesn’t need strength when nobody sees him.
Style: 10/10
If ghosts could win fashion awards.
Loyalty: 7/10
Cool on the surface, committed at the core.
VISUAL IDENTITY
Primary Colour:
Neon Green
Core Elements:
Tactical silhouettes, sharp tailoring, urban stealthwear, concealed details, functional slashes
Design Motifs:
Glitch-striping, X-slash accents, scythe outlines, stitched interference marks, spectral utility wear
Tone:
Surgical. Silent. Unrelenting.
SNIP
Role:
Precision Striker
Style:
Twin mini-scythes, stitched hood with “X” patches on elbows and knees.
Signature Move:
“Silent Split” — Disarms enemies (or door locks) faster than you can blink.
Bio:
Snip lives for the perfect cut — fast, silent, surgical. Thinks oversized scythes are “overcompensating.” Never speaks above a whisper — lets the sound of snapping chains do the talking.
Vibe:
Precise. Patient. Petty when necessary.
Operational Attributes:
(Scored out of 10. Based on field reports, psychic residue, and the occasional intercepted whisper.)
Stealth: 9/10
Might be behind you right now.
Speed: 8/10
Quick enough to slice and sigh before you flinch.
Chaos: 4/10
Only targets the chaos that deserves it.
Intellect: 9/10
Knows the angle of every cut and comeback.
Sarcasm: 6/10
Rare, but deadly. Like his blades.
Power: 5/10
Light on brawn, heavy on bite.
Style: 7/10
Function stitched as fashion.
Loyalty: 8/10
He’s picky who he fights with — and for.
DEADEYE
Role:
Target Acquisitions / Long-Range Specialist
Style:
Cloaked sniper reaper with a long hazy stare, mist-charged scythe shaped like a rifle.
Signature Move:
“Soul Shot” — Marks targets with ghostly Xs and takes them down from absurd distances.
Bio:
Deadeye doesn’t miss. Period. Has been known to tag moving motorcycles, flying drones, and once — a rogue WraithX skeleton in freefall. Never jokes. Only smirks once a week. Maybe.
Vibe:
Cold. Focused. Built different (and aiming differently).
Operational Attributes:
(Scored out of 10. Based on field reports, psychic residue, and the occasional intercepted whisper.)
Stealth: 8/10
Invisible until your fate’s already sealed.
Speed: 6/10
Slow steps, fast kills.
Chaos: 3/10
Not messy. Just final.
Intellect: 9/10
Calculates wind, distance, and irony.
Sarcasm: 4/10
One dry roast per decade.
Power: 9/10
One shot. One soul.
Style: 6/10
Sniper cloaks aren’t flashy, just fatal.
Loyalty: 10/10
Would ghost himself before ghosting his crew.
Home City
THE ECHO SPINE
The Echo Spine isn’t built — it’s broken. A once-thriving broadcast district, now carved into silence by the first Spiral collapse. Its streets glitch where signals used to flow, its towers lean like knives, and the skyline itself looks slashed — as if some giant blade dragged through the sky and left it gasping.
Green neon pulses through cracked concrete, bleeding through wall seams and data fractures. Rooftops blink with ghost-signals. Antennas twitch like exposed nerves. Here, Cut Crew doesn’t patrol — they phase. They drift across glitch-lit walkways, dropping from rooftops like corrupted code. Every alley is a shortcut. Every corner is a trap. The city grid obeys them — and them alone.
Graffiti doesn’t exist here. Instead, the walls wear their scars: X-shaped sigils, cut marks that hum, and stenciled warnings in interference patterns. It’s not art — it’s memory. It’s orders. It’s where silence becomes language. Outsiders might call it a ruin. Cut Crew calls it home field advantage.
At the heart of it all sits the Signal Spine — a collapsed broadcast tower now turned war altar. It leaks static. It hums like it’s still trying to speak. This is where missions are drawn in slash marks and deployed with surgical focus. No noise. No hype. Just precision and exit wounds.
To outsiders, The Echo Spine is unreadable. To Cut Crew, it’s the blade edge between strategy and silence — and they know exactly how deep to cut.
Environment:
Razor-edged alleyways, glitch-lit rooftops, fractured city grids
Visuals:
Slashed skyline, green neon veins running through walls
Vibe:
Tactical urban ruins with reaper sigils etched into every surface
Lore Hook:
Once a broadcast district, the Echo Spine was severed during the first Spiral collapse. Now it’s Cut Crew’s personal ops zone — all signal, no noise.