File ID: KAC-322
Designation: "The Diamond in the Rough," "Comet"
Threat Level: Category 3 (Global Threat)
Status: Contained (Conditionally)
Discovering Officer: ██
World of Origin: Undergoing investigation
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[DESCRIPTION]
KAC-322 is a humanoid female entity of approximately average adult height and build. Her visual presentation is consistent with a staged idol aesthetic: a tailored performance outfit adorned with blue ribbons, high-contrast accents, and decorative ornamentation that does not correspond to any known entertainment group, nation, or corporate branding across surveyed worlds.
The entity possesses blue hair with a white patch on the forehead and dark blue eyes exhibiting a persistent anomalous phenomenon. Direct eye contact with her frequently produces the subjective impression that her irises contain a vast starfield or galactic spiral (though commonly said to be a galaxy on numerous occasions). High-resolution Instruments confirms micro-lensing distortions and light cosmic radiation signatures localized exclusively within her ocular regions within her eyes, inconsistent with any known biological or artificial augmentation. Personnel reports consistently describe the sensation of "looking into deep space" or "being observed by the universe itself" during sustained eye contact.
KAC-322 was first encountered in an anomalous zone undergoing stellar degradation, characterized by premature stellar decay, photonic entropy spikes, and informational collapse of star systems. The entity appeared unaffected by these conditions and was observed traversing the zone without protective measures leading analyst to believe she may have been the cause of the anomalous zone. Upon contact, KAC-322 voluntarily accompanied Operative ██, displaying no resistance or hostility.
When questioned regarding her origin, KAC-322 stated she had "come from the stars beyond the stars," implying a voluntary descent from a higher dimension or existence. No direct corroboration of this claim has been established; however, the stellar degradation event ceased within hours of her extraction from the zone.
Of particular note is KAC-322 has demonstrated the ability to consciously generate and manipulate Aura. Active Aura usage among non-human entities remains statistically rare, and in KAC-322's case, she displays exceptional control, efficiency, and adaptability on the level of Commanders.
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[BEHAVIOUR]
Under standard conditions, KAC-322 is cooperative, inquisitive, and outwardly non-hostile. She exhibits a pronounced curiosity toward the Kaiju Annihilation Corps as an organization, frequently questioning its doctrine, ethical frameworks, and long-term objectives. Interviews suggest a genuine interest rather than deceptive compliance, though analysts caution that her true motivations remain opaque.
KAC-322 demonstrates high cognitive acuity, rapid situational assessment, and an unusual emotional detachment toward large-scale destruction, particularly in abstract or cosmological contexts as if she has witnessed those events herself. While generally cordial with personnel, she shows limited concern for the suffering of hostile anomalous entities, treating combat engagements as both a technical exercise and, in rare instances, a source of personal satisfaction.
This concern was elevated following the Site 12 breach incident, wherein KAC-322 was attacked without provocation by KAC-██, an entity previously confirmed to possess large-scale reality-warping capabilities, who managed to escape containment and was slaughtering KAC personnel. KAC-322 responded immediately, engaging the hostile entity in direct combat.
During the engagement, KAC-322 demonstrated extensive weapons proficiency, favoring axes of varying form and mass. Her weapon conjuration appeared as if she was using Aura, though the principles behind her weapons' constructions did not match known capabilities and methods. The two entities battled it out with the opposing entity constantly crushing KAC-322 via the manipulation of space around her. Yet, She always regenerated in impossible ways whether it be her head be crushed or her body being dismantled spatially. The confrontation concluded when KAC-322 manifested a golden axe of unknown taxonomy and origin, which she used to decisively neutralize KAC-██, collapsing its reality-warping field and rendering it inert.
Audio and visual logs from the encounter indicate that KAC-322 displayed an overt sadistic behavior during the final phase of neutralization, including prolonged engagement beyond tactical necessity and verbal expressions of enjoyment. This behavior has been flagged for ongoing psychological evaluation.
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[CONTAINMENT ATTEMPT]
KAC-322 is housed under humanoid containment standards with enhanced monitoring:
- Residence in a controlled suite resembling civilian living quarters (to reduce performance-mask reinforcement and encourage baseline social presentation).
- Continuous passive recording with ocular-filter protocols for staff susceptible to perceptual fixation (to mitigate prolonged eye-contact).
- Restricted access to metalworking facilities, archives, and anomalous objects.
Containment is described as provisional. While KAC-322 remains cooperative, her demonstrated capacity suggests that physical restraint is not a reliable method. Containment doctrine is therefore relationship-dependent, with emphasis on informed consent, transparency where operationally feasible, and controlled exposure to threat environments.
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[FINAL NEUTRALIZATION]
Not authorized.
Current projections indicate that attempting neutralization would pose a disproportionate risk relative to the entity's present threat profile (which could rise to Category 4 and possibly Category 5). The unknown origin of KAC-322, combined with her demonstrated combat effectiveness against entities, classifies her as an asset of strategic value. Escalation protocols remain in place should behavioral patterns deteriorate.
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[NOTES BY ██]
"She will sit with our junior staff and ask them what it means to save a world. She will listen like the answer matters. And then, when something tries to harm her, she will respond with the kind of perfection that only comes from a life built around endings. The concern is not whether she can kill. The concern is that, in the moment of killing, she enjoys it. As long as her interests align with ours, she is a blade we would be foolish not to wield. But we must never forget blades cut both ways."
- ██
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[FILE END]
[SHORT STORY: DESCENSION]
She did not remember the first star she ever saw. To her, that was the problem with beginnings. They only mattered to those who still believed in accumulation.
KAC-322 drifted between systems whose names had already been erased as stellar corpses were surrounded by debris fields where planets had once argued with gravity and lost. Light reached her late here, stretching thin and tired, carrying images of explosions that no longer meant anything to the present.
Yet, she walked anyway. Not because she needed to. Not because there was a destination. Because walking imposed sequence on infinity.
A blue ribbon fluttered behind her as she stepped across the fragmented shell of a dead sun. Its core had collapsed long before she arrived and compressed into a singularity that hummed softly, like an embarrassed apology. She looked down at it through her eyes—through the spiraling lattice of distant galaxies reflected in them—and watched spacetime curve politely away from her gaze.
The singularity recoiled. It always did.
She knelt, resting one hand against the warped geometry around it. Not touching since "touching" was a local fiction but acknowledging. The radiation screamed, flaring in protest, then softened. Entropy spiked, Information bled outward, and impossible futures unraveled and chose to stop trying.
"Not today," she said, quietly.
The star died anyway. It always had. She had not saved it. She had only been present when it finished. That was her role, and thus she moved on.
Throughout her travels, there were civilizations that mistook her for a god. Those were the short-lived ones.
On a world orbiting a binary pulsar, an avian species knelt as she descended through their ionosphere with feathers burning blue with Cherenkov light. Their cities were fractal, grown rather than built with each spire singing as spacetime trembled around her arrival.
They asked her to stay and offered her titles that translated poorly: End-That-Waits, Star-Sister, Last Witness. They built monuments before she even answered, encoding her silhouette into their planetary rings.
She listened. She always listened.
"What happens when your star collapses?" she asked them.
They hesitated. Their language did not include collapse. Only migration, renewal, and transcendence. Their astrophysicists had charts. Their priests had poems. But neither had answers.
She stayed for three of their centuries and taught them how to look at their sky without flinching.
When the pulsars destabilized and tidal forces tore their world into incandescent arcs, she stood on the surface and watched with them. She did not shield them. She did not intervene. She held their songs in memory as tectonics screamed and oceans boiled upward into space.
Some cursed her, and some thanked her. But most never noticed when she left.
Further out, where structure gave up and probability frayed, she encountered something that remembered her. It was not a creature in the biological sense. It was a region—a consciousness smeared across collapsing light cones, stitched together by loops of causality that refused to resolve. A remnant of a universe that had failed its own consistency checks.
"You again," it echoed, folding time around the phrase.
She tilted her head. Her eyes reflected not galaxies now, but branching failures of timelines where this thing had survived longer, screamed louder, suffered more creatively.
"You persisted," she replied.
"I learned," it said. "I adapted and I broke the natural order."
She smiled. Genuinely, this time.
"So did I."
It tried to crush her by erasing the space she occupied, by defining her coordinates as contradictions. Dimensions folded and topology collapsed. Her body came apart in polite, impossible ways with her head separated from narrative or limbs scattered across non-linear time.
Yet, impossibly, she reformed between breaths.
She stepped forward as golden light bled into her hand, condensing into an axe whose edge was less sharpness and more decision. The region screamed as its loops unraveled and causality snapping back into a single, merciful line.
She ended it slowly. Not because she had to. But because she wanted to feel the moment where resistance turned into acceptance. Of course, her abnormal sadistic personality had always taken over. When it was done, she stood alone again, breathing in a cosmos that pretended nothing had happened.
That was when she realized she was smiling. She did not like that. But it felt good. And it felt amazing.
She traveled faster after that. There were places she avoided. Regions where observation itself collapsed outcomes. Archives that recorded every possible version of her and argued endlessly over which was true. She did not like being reduced to data and not even infinite data. It felt… small and insignificant.
She passed through wars without stopping, watching gods tear each other apart over domains that would decay in a few billion years regardless. She learned the shapes of desperation and the sound of ambition made when it cracked.
Occasionally, she intervened. Never to save. Only to end.
A weaponized galaxy was flung like a spear by an empire that had mistaken scale for inevitability. It was a recursive intelligence consuming reality to avoid acknowledging its own termination. A pantheon that had forgotten how to stop ruling.
Yet, each time, the axe appeared. Each time, she felt that same dangerous satisfaction bloom at the final strike. Each time, she asked herself the same question afterward:
Is this what I am? Or is this what I choose?
The answer changed depending on where she stood.
Eventually, she found the anomaly.
A wound in the cosmos where stars decayed too quickly and where light forgot how to carry meaning. Entropy surged unnaturally. Information collapsed inward. And the universe there was tired, exhausted by its own continuity.
She stepped into it and felt something new.
Friction.
Not resistance. Not threat.
Attention.
For the first time in a very long while, something smaller than her was watching back—measuring, categorizing, trying to understand. She followed the thread of observation down into structured space, into a world that believed it could catalogue endings.
They did not kneel. They did not worship. They pointed instruments at her eyes and tried very hard not to stare. She found that… refreshing. When they asked her where she came from, she considered lying.
Instead, she said, "From the stars beyond the stars."
It was close enough to the truth to be honest. And so, they asked her to stay. She agreed...
For now.
Sometimes, late in her containment suite, she would sit and watch the simulated sky projected across the ceiling and junior staff talk to her about saving worlds, about duty, or about hope.
She listens like it matters. And deep down, it did. She comes from a place where unspeakable horrors descend from an existence even beyond her. She wonders how long she can pretend that this war is different. She wonders if the KAC is ready for the kind of war that may befall their realities.
But for now, she is content.