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Rimsenal Xenotype Pack - Zohar

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Let the Zohar handle your colony’s moral dilemmas!

Need to sell those desperate refugees to a slaver?
Call in the Zohar.

Got a pile of prisoners awaiting execution?
Bring in the Zohar with an incinerator.

Oh no! A noble guest is rampaging under a scaria infection?
Obviously, send in a Zohar!

The Zohar gets the job done, instantly and without hesitation.
Sure, accidents happen sometimes. But don’t worry!
No one mourns a missing Zohar anyway.

The Zohar doesn't hesitate.
The Zohar doesn't agonize.
The Zohar never asks why—only how.







- Blonde hair
- Ashen blonde hair
- Platinum blonde hair
- Ink black skin
- Slate grey skin
- Terrible art
- Terrible social
- Dead calm
- Reduced pain
- Low Libido
- Psychically deaf

• Wouldn't that cause trouble if I add it to an ongoing save?
  
  I think not. But deletion is.
  
  
  
  
• Is this CE compatible?

But seriously, give it a try and see for yourself. I'm not going to make a compatibility patch for it, so don't expect me to.

To: Illuminator Project Personnel

Subject: Regarding the Project Outcome

This is a message regarding the Applied Gene Template – Extreme Xenoterrestrial Adaptation project you completed. The so-called “Illuminator Project.” I found your approach to my vision… quite interesting. The idea that mere environmental adaptation isn't enough for humanity to survive in extreme conditions, and that we must fundamentally alter the species itself—that was a line of thought I could never have conceived.

The key, you argue, is not a body that can endure extreme environments, but a mind that can. And sometimes, the most effective way to solve a problem is to evade the problem itself. Remarkable. This must be what they mean by thinking outside the box.

I was genuinely impressed. Artificially suppressing human emotional responses by tampering with brain mechanisms? Watching the demonstration, I was struck dumb. Your subjects acted with complete calm in situations that would reduce ordinary people to shell-shocked husks—reading books in a library, as if nothing was wrong. I suppose they could indeed withstand the extremes of a frontier colony.

Let me skip to my conclusion.

You are all monsters.

I know everything you did during the course of this project. Don’t even think about making excuses—it would only insult both our intellects. Human experimentation on dissenters, unauthorized fetal genetic manipulation, illegal human cloning and disposal... those are just side issues. What I’m talking about is your so-called “extreme environment experiments.” You prepared numerous, varied, and intense stress conditions. And you subjected far too many test subjects to them, repeatedly—sickeningly so.

And what was the result? A person who never stops. A human who advances even in the face of collapse, hesitation, refusal. A being that doesn’t stop even at the boundary where one should stop. A creature that no longer recognizes the line where humanity ends!

Let me ask you this: if humanity abandons what defines it as human, is there still a reason to preserve it? What you’ve created is nothing but the most meticulous insult to my vision. “Illuminator,” indeed. What kind of world is worth living in, when it's lit by the light of this nightmare?

I am not a monster like you. So I’ll give you a choice.

One: board the shuttle, descend to the surface, and surrender to the Federation Peacekeeper Corps. I promise you, under federal law, a fair trial that you don’t deserve. I don’t even know what sentence fits the title crimes against humanity, though.

If you’d rather not face justice, there is another option. Your research station is equipped with the highest-tier Johnson-Tanaka drive and excellent self-sufficiency systems. It was originally designed as a generation ship, an ark. Take it. Go. Disappear to wherever you like. But never return to Federation space.

To the departments of Applied Genetics, Analytic Research, and Augmented Kinetics: in short—

You’re all fired.

With sincerity,

Lord Reuben Carter Greydale

“They gave us the noblest name imaginable. Because they hoped we would carry the darkest sins they could not.”

And thus, the Illuminator Project was supposed to fade into oblivion.
But we all know it didn’t.

Every one of the Greydale seedships launched to pioneer space carries the Zohar xenotype. And the only reason the damned research station of Agarak still survives may well be thanks to how well the Zohar genome sells.


Why? Simple.

Sometimes, you have to seal off an infected settlement and burn it down, residents and all.
Sometimes, you must terminate an entire batch of malformed clone infants.
Sometimes, you have to jettison a malfunctioning module—crew still inside—before it compromises the mothership.

These are not matters of capability.
They are matters of will.

And the Zohar will do it, without complaint—then calmly return and eat dinner like nothing happened.

Countless lives owe theirs to them. That’s the twisted irony of our cursed universe.

Lord Greydale passed away before he ever saw the seedships he dedicated his life to take flight.
And sometimes, I think… maybe that was for the best.