#cypher lore valorant

[nothingstayshiddenfromme]

i think to the protocol cypher isn’t exactly a father figure - i don’t think he’d let himself get close like that, but i think that maybe on the days when the younger ones can’t sleep, the days when they sit and they’re haunted by the things that they have done and the things that have been done to them, the tolls it has to take on their bodies, the way their lives have changed, i think that maybe he is the one they go to. maybe to confide. maybe for a distraction, maybe just for some company. because i think above all cypher would get it - his story is one of grief and i think for him that has never gone away. i think he holds onto that and i think it pushes him in the unhealthiest way possible. so i think maybe outright, no, he isn’t exactly a father figure, but i do think he’s the one they go to when they need someone resembling one. and i think they can count on him not to bring it up again. what’s another secret to him?

[yukasyukasyukasyukas]

Valorant Timeline so it's easier for me to write stuff

Official content from social media (TikTok, ig, twitter etc)

Game (maps, voice lines etc)

Cinematics (on YouTube)

Brimstone's office e-mails and voicemails (on the Range)

Not sure where from

My assumptions based on what we have

Before the protocol:

Sabine Callas starts the researches about radianite

The Scions of Hourglass try to kill Sabine

First light, radianite becomes a popular topic of research and energy source and some people become radiants

Kingdom starts building radianite extraction areas, emphasis in Rabat, Morocco and Thimphu, Buthan

Kingdom attempts to build an extraction area in Bahia, Brazil, but is stopped by locals, Tayane Alves included on the group

Kingdom Corporation starts growing a lot and has installations in different locations, emphasis in Tokyo, Japan

In some time, before the game lore and first cinematic, Nora and her children die, Amir al Amari becomes a widow

Before the in game lore:

Creation of the Valorant protocol by Brimstone and Viper

Omen joins the Protocol

Killjoy joins the Protocol as the first sentinel

Cypher joins the Protocol

Sova joins the Protocol as the first initiator

Sage joins the protocol and quickly ascends to second in command after Brimstone

Phoenix joins the Protocol as the first duelist

Jett joins the Protocol

Lucia gets ill, Reyna starts collecting souls to heal her

Reyna joins the Protocol

Raze joins the protocol

Breach joins the Protocol, accepted by Viper, against Brimstone's will

During in game and cinematics lore:

Episode 1, Ignition:

The Valorant Legion (Omega Earth) does its first incursion mission in Alpha Earth, causing the Venice incident, incriminating Jett and Phoenix and causing part of the city to float 300m above the ground

Ascent map creation

Discovery of a Kingdom research installation in an island in Russia, where there is an excavation of a Japanese ship from the Tokugawa era

Icebox map creation

Skye joins the Protocol

Episode 2, Formation:

Ryo Kiritani steals a samurai mask from the ship in Icebox

Yoru joins the Protocol

Astra joins the Protocol

Discovery of an island in Bermuda, where there is an unworking portal

Breeze map creation

First multiple agent mission by the Protocol in Bind, Rabat, Morocco

Killjoy creates the spike defuser

Episode 3, Reflection:

Kay/o is found in Breeze and is recruited by the Protocol

A Kingdom Corporation and Kingdom Industries research installation in New Mexico, USA, researches about transport between the Alpha and Omega Earth

The installation has its generator exploded by gunshot and is destroyed

Brimstone is kidnapped by Vincent Fabron, who chantages Viper to allow him to join the Protocol in order to release Brimstone

Chamber joins the Protocol

Episode 4, Disruption:

Chamber suggests Tala Dimaapi Valdez to Brimstone

Neon joins the protocol

Someone blackmails the agents in the Protocol

We get to know more about their lore

Sova, Neon, Chamber, Breach and Cypher are sent in mission to find the blackmailer

Fade joins the Protocol after she finds that they don't have her missing brother

Raze and Killjoy build together the Maxbot

Episode 5, Dimension:

Killjoy researches about the portals in Breeze to make it possible to travel to the Omega Earth

The Valorant Protocol does it's first incursion mission into the Omega Earth

A life support system in Lisbon, Portugal, on the Omega Earth is discovered by the Protocol

Pearl map creation

Varun Batra is sent in a mission by Realm to recover an artifact and steals said artifact

Batra runs from the authorities and by the Realm, causing disasters on his way

Brimstone helps him scape

Harbor joins the Protocol

Raze and Killjoy are announced to be a couple, the non-confraternization rule is suspended

Raze and Killjoy are the first confirmed queer characters in the game

Episode 6, Revelation (honestly, the one I know less about the lore):

Is discovered by the Protocol the existence of the City of Flowers, India, Omega Earth, where the Multiverse Nexus is located. We're not sure what the Nexus is

Harbor, Astra and Skye are sent in mission to explore the city and the Nexus is activated. We don't know what it did

Lotus map creation

Mateo Armendaríz de la Fuente steals some radivores being researched in a Kingdom installation near his home

Strange things happen on the area

Gekko joins the protocol

Episode 7, Evolution (when I joined the game<3):

Iselin, Anna and Frøya are sent on a mission by Ståljeger with a Kingdom scientist to recover a radivore bear in the Vault in Svalbard, Norway

Frøya and Anna are killed by the radivore during the mission

The bear injuries the scientist and eats Iselin's arm before being anihilated

The scientist also dies from the annihilation

Iselin is traumatized from the radivore attack

Sova rescues Iselin from the Vault

Deadlock joins the Protocol. She has problems getting along with some agents, emphasis on Gekko

Killjoy makes Deadlock a prosthetic arm

Some agents monitor the area around the installation Gekko steal his radivores from and where the Landfall Project is researched

Deadlock, Brimstone, Gekko, Reyna and Sova are sent in mission in the Kingdom research installation in California, USA, after Deadlock declares emergency

There, an interdimensional portal is destroyed, causing a skinhole to open in front of the installation. The scientist there is able to scape Deadlock's annihilation

Sunset map creation

Later, the same scientist and some bodyguards try to recover the research

Zhao Yu Li, aka Dead Lilac, sent by the Scions of Hourglass, kills them

It's revealed the Zhao Yu's next target is Omen

Iso joins the Protocol

Sage, Jett, Viper, Sova and Phoenix are sent in mission in Haven, to prevent the Legion's mission to be successful

Sova dies in mission but is later revived by Sage

The Protocol mission is successful, keeping the Legion from extracting the radianite from the area

Episode 8, Defiance:

Iso attempts to kill Omen but gives up, letting him know the Scions are after him

After the occuring, Omen wants to know more about the Scions and why they wanted him dead

Sova, Omen, Cypher and Iso go in a mission after the Scions lead to find out more about Omen's past

Iso, who hadn't left the Scions yet, leaves

Omen finds out that he used to work for them and was the one sent to kill Sabine, but failed

Omen is eager to find out all he can about the Protocol and temporarily leaves the Protocol

In Edinburg, Scotland, he meets Clove and recommends them to Brimstone

Clove is the first confirmed trans and non binary character in the game

Clove joins the Protocol

After his unsatisfying research, Omen is back to the protocol

Clove lets them know about a library in Jan Mayen, Norway.

Clove, Omen, Viper, Sage and Iso are sent in mission to explore the library

Abyss map creation

Episode 9, Collision:

Some agents are sent to Abyss to explore after the place is cleaned from the Scions

Reyna and Killjoy find out that the radiant history started way before the First Light and is as old as human history

Skye discovers anormal vegetation in the library

We find out the Scions' goal was to keep radiant history and knowledge hidden from the humanity

The Legion starts sending several agents in several missions into the Alpha Earth

Jett had nightmares about her Omega version

Deadlock discovers a containment cell in Abyss

Sova monitors the cell

The prisoner scapes the cell and runs away

Jett, Omen, Chamber and Yoru are sent in mission to recover the prisoner who scaped

Omen asks the prisoner, Vyse, to talk

Vyse joins the protocol

We find out Vyse and Viper have history together

Vyse focuses on getting rid of the Scions, in which she's successful

V25:

Tejo joins the Protocol, recruited by Brimstone

Phoenix, Raze, Brimstone, Vyse and Tejo are sent in mission (at the time I'm writing this we don't know where to or what for) and Tejo sends someone a message that implies he's working as some sort of double agent together with someone outside of the protocol

[mtaspennn]

Aughhh I feel like I talk about it all the time but Valorant is such an ANNOYING thing to like. Especially from the perspective of somebody really interested in the lore! I miss when they advertised agents and their lore how they did with fade, her dossiers and her encounters with chamber, neon, cypher and sova (correct me if I’m wrong, I don’t remember exactly who it was). Everything seems so rushed to get the agents out now, which makes sense for agents who might not have that deep of a background but I still want to have characters with complex backgrounds that really add to the lore, and for them to be advertised and teased as such. I think I’d play the actual game a lot more if they did so, the last time I was actually excited for a new agent was Deadlock (and clove but that’s just cause they’re silly and I’m queer). But I still wish there were more lore! Maybe that’s just my personal preferences though, I love very deep and complex lore. I just hope they expand on plot lines that they haven’t picked up a lot recently and that they appeal to this side of the fandom some more, rather than the side that’s a testosterone cesspool of little to no anger management and bigotry. 🌿

[yourstrulynameless]

Personally I’d like to think Cypher is playing such 5D chess that his schrödinger’s cat ass family life is completely intentional to throw off other agents.

I’ve said this in a HC list before but imagine one time he opens up to Sova, tells him that in reality he has no family and “Nora” was a pet cat he had long ago that died and he uses the lingering small sadness to play up an act of grief for people that don’t exist. Only to have been lying the entire vulnerable moment and actually having a dead or alive family in reality!

Imagine he plays his acts so well, that despite Fade blackmailing him, he’s convinced everyone including Fade he likes and appreciates her skills, when in reality he truly despises her for finding his secrets. Of course, her skills are still impressive to him, but they are a threat too. Maybe his hate and anger leaks in the voice line telling her to keep her nightmares away from him.

What if he didn’t grow up poor at all? What if he was actually pretty well off before protocol?

How much of who he is, is just a lie?

How much of Cypher is real?

How much has he fabricated himself?

Christ I love a good chess player.

[brewing-radianite]

THE NEW CINEMATIC... viper i cant keep defending you bestie

[zeggyzone]

d&d / fantasy valorant

has been on my brain. so here’s my little masterlist on what i think everyone would be.

DISCLAIMER

i’ve played d&d like three times so don’t expect all of these to be accurate/they’re my opinion :(

astra // astral elf monk

hey, i just think it makes sense. monks can deal damage and since astra derives her power from the astral guardians, it makes sense, no?

plus, i think she’d be really badass with astral elf genes…

breach // centaur barbarian

WALK WITH ME HERE. just listen to me. A CENTAUR. HE’S SO CENTAUR.

he’s very tanky and i think it very much fits his whole vibe— and if you think he’s annoying with two legs, he’s gonna be ten times more annoying with four. can totally see him absolutely destroying someone by bucking his back legs into someone.

brimstone // dwarf paladin

honor is huge for dwarves and i really want to play that in with brimstone. i want to say that kingdom could’ve been this crazy god thing but maybe i could look into that later. all i know is that he is a paladin with a heart of gold.

in a little doodle i did, i made him a tavernkeeper… so maybe he’s an ex-paladin now-turned a humble tavernkeep.

chamber // high elf artificer

i wanted to make him a ranger, but an artificer makes me giggle. probably because one of my d&d characters is an artificer and was loosely based on chamber. (she’s a rich tiefling seamstress of many talents, if you even care.) also you can imagine chamber as a tiefling too, but, i think high elf works better.

deffo still a weapons designer, maybe even a blacksmith. probably works closely with magic users to make custom weaponry to channel their mana in.

clove // fairy bard

look, as much as i’d LOVE to make clove an immortal god watching over the whole fantasy world, i just HAVE to include them as a fairy who CONTINUOUSLY breaks the 4th wall. it’s so funny.

clove would probably have DEADPOOL level fourth wall breaks, and constantly make jokes and references of ‘the real world’ and how they’ve ‘seen all of you before.’

cypher // tiefling wizard

WALK WITH ME HERE. he had his horns ripped off. WALK WITH ME.

he hides his identity partially because iirc tieflings aren’t exactly … liked by the public eye? i also like to think he uses his wizardry to fuel his whole information broker schtick. he uses arcane eye and everyone hates him for it.

deadlock // snow elf beast hunter

i know that beast hunters aren’t exactly a CLASS but come on. lets be honest with ourselves.

deadlock who lost her team to a rabid mythical beast, now dedicating herself to hunting them down and neutralizing them, one bounty at a time. i like to think that she doesn’t necessarily kill them if they can be saved, or at least put them down painlessly. otherwise, she aims for the fuckin’ throat.

fade // half-elf sorcerer

walk with me here. fade is a MAN in the universe OKAY walk with me. i made a hc video on tiktok where i made fade a half-elf sorcerer that is haunted by the voices in his spellbook. his character name is demir, and upon further research, i have found out that sorcerers CANNOT use spellbooks. (stupid, i know.) so work with that as you will.

i think she works for nightmare to feed it in return to find information on her father. she's a bounty hunter, but ONLY for nightmares and for information. you feel me?

gekko // tall-man druid

i think this one’s a given.

i’m practically making him beast boy, BUT IDGAF!!!! he has a connection with his buddies and often shifts as needed. he likes turning into a dog and cuddling. trust. his character name is oetam. yes, it's mateo backwards.

harbor // warforged artificer

this one is kind of me fucking around. as much as i wanted to make him a water based race, he was chosen to hold the artifact.

i think he was made by realm to be their historian and antiquities expert, but as soon as he was the chosen one, was shut out, just like in the cinematic.

iso // half-orc fighter

i know i could've put iso as a tiefling or something like that but i think him as a half-orc is cooler. he's tall, bulky, and TANKY.

i originally wanted him to be a paladin, because he could change oaths from hourglass to the protocol through a huge quest in sparing omen... that whole thing, but i think a fighter works better.

jett // air genasi rogue

let's be so fucking for real JETT WILL BE PUT ON SOME ROGUE SHIT WHETHER YOU LIKE IT OR NOT. I WILL FORCE FEED IT TO YOU WITH A GOLDEN SPOON.

if omega earth isn't canonical in the d&d world (which i highly doubt) she has an evil twin that does shit on her name, henceforth, she has to hide. otherwise, same backstory.

kay/o // warforged fighter

HE. IS. WARFORGED. [actively shoving food down your throat]

very much strikes me as a robot learning how to be normal. definitely works along brimstone-- he got a job at the tavern and helps him sort out bounties and act as security. he's also totally a bodyguard for money.

killjoy // tiefling artificer

she's so tiefling u can't say anything. she's a PINK tiefling thank you very much. definitely a party girl, too!

i think she's the same idea as chamber, but she's paid by brimstone! i wanna think he took her in as his protégé but atp he might as well be hers. initially he wanted her to help with kay/o, but she just ended up control-freaking everywhere and upgrading everything in sight. she has matching names with oetam. it's aralk.

neon // wood elf ranger

neon is a speedster, so it makes sense to give her one of the fastest races in d&d (based on walking distance, at least). i wanna think she's a knight... stay with me here.

ex-k-sec makes sense for her to be a knight? so maybe she just has the title, but kind of just does contract work? also! the whole lightning thing... mayhaps cursed? or maybe just a lightning god didn't want her. choose which one you like out of those two.

omen // tall man-tiefling rogue

hear me out; he used to be a tall man, but after the whole 'incident' was turned into a tiefling. LISTEN BRO IT MAKES SENSE.

he works as a merc, sporting a cloak to shield his 'hideous' self. he frequents brimstone's tavern for jobs, and always emerges from the shadows instead of using the door. he's become accustomed to showing up after closing with the bounty, and in return, spooks everyone working there. killjoy had to hit her fantasy equivalent of an inhaler after a few spooks.

phoenix // dragonborn bard

[shoveling food down your throat] that is a fucking dragonborn if i ever did fucking see one.

and, he's a bard because he was in theatre school, duh. i like to think phoenix is a very popular entertainer but also uses his talents for other jobs on the side. otherwise... maybe he's a knight! i don't know. i like the performer idea better.

raze // dwarf alchemist

she was also in the d&d video! her name is razinho ('little raze' haha). probably a merc with a very, err, explosive personality. wandered in the tavern a lot and hit it off with aralk.

if i had to assign her a class, maybe a fighter or a barbarian.

reyna // vampire warlock

listen. i want to say that the vampire side of her is empress. she has to devour souls (or blood!) to keep empress happy. you see where i'm going here? [fade bulletin board spray]

she's tied to empress so long as lucia is sick. gekko and her met after she found him injured in dog form... guys please i love them so much.

sage // high elf cleric

her healing is a gift. come on bro. she's as cleric as it can get. while i think she also derives power from the earth (she's in fact a geomancer) i think the majority of her mana comes from the higher power that gifted her.

i want to think she also works as a ... well, sage. she does so back in shaanxi. otherwise, she's found at brimstone's tavern providing her healing. sometimes she goes into dungeons and does free revivals.

skye // dryad druid

[shoveling food down your throat] dryad skye [more food] druid skye. also isn't it crazy how THAT is the only skye picture we have. rest in peace.

i wanna think that her pack is a bunch of animal-shaped plants that she helped escape a garden. i think that's really funny. 10+ points if it's a garden belonging to kingdom.

sova // avian (owl) scout

a former knight in charge of reconnaissance. he left after a tragic accident.

he lives with his babushka and takes care of her-- sometimes he takes up bounties for extra cash, and brimstone is trying to work his way into sova's good side-- he could really use a scout.

viper // naga shifter alchemist

probably used to be a cleric but renounced her belief-- even better, after doing what she did to omen, she lost her power and took it as a sign to take up researching death.

yes, she is a naga. it makes so much sense, nobody talk to me. her and brimstone are old friends and she frequents the bar also because of omen. the reason he was sent to kill her should stay the same i think.

yoru // changeling rogue

last one! he was also in the hc video. except he was a fighter. his name is kurayami. no, not kuronami. he's a runaway samurai and hella edgy. oetam bullies him. demir, too.

changelings can impersonate people they've already seen, so maybe yoru uses paintings of his ancestors to decide on his identity. he has the mask still, too! he uses it when he's on his rogue shit.

thanks for reading! would love to hear what you guys think about these!

twitter | tiktok | archiveofourown

[kaiserouo]

headcanon warning

bonus

no he doesn't

[notaspectator]

OKAY while im on a streak: valorant cinematic.

i know why Omen went on the mission to find the guy for his past and shit. Sova probably showed up just to help Omen; we all know Sova’s a good person and would help anyone anyday.

But why Cypher? Cypher isnt known for his selflessness. does this mean that Omen paid whatever price Cypher demanded? or.. does Cypher know something they dont and he got more out of helping Omen than we realize? Or was the price paid when Cypher found Iso? did Cypher lead Iso into valorant so that he had the necessary info to find Omen’s past? How much does CYPHER know about Omen? and.. how long has he really known? how much did he really gain from helping? because he is NOT generous nor selfless from what i can tell, and we don’t know what he’s getting out of this

idk. I just know that rat (affectionately) has SOMETHING he isnt sharing, and i know that whatever price he set was NOT money because i feel like Omen would pay anything he could to know his past. and I want to know.

[one-time-offer]

[non-operator]

Not sure if I mentioned this before on my blog, but some valorant thoughts. Which is that, I'm kind of curious if the lore team has any plans to talk about pre-Valorant Protocol, because it feels like there had been a war before the events of Valorant.

Maybe it's just that they want to create a reason why some of the members are so good at combat, so they have military training background, but also it sounds like there had been enough big conflicts while they were active soldiers?

We know Brimstone started as a fire fighter and then went into the army. First of all, it seemed like he had already decided on a career path, so what's with the shift to the military? I can kind of see the connection, but it's not like fire fighters are trained to fight people, right? I feel like there's an implication that there was an active reason for able-bodied people to start joining the military. Even if there wasn't, during his time in the Special Forces, it seems like his group (Ragged Ravens) were partaking in battles/missions often enough that his friend Tariq Porter died in action. (I will be honest here though, I don't actually know what the military is up to when there isn't an active war happening. So maybe there wasn't a war and this is just regular army shit, but what the fuck is the military sending them out to shoot and be shot at for?)

The same thing kind of goes for Sova. It seems clear that he has a military past, but there's also his dossier that points out he used to be called 'Filin', which kind of feels like a callsign. He also had to be around other people who would call him that callsign, presumably the army. Considering that he had to be on missions to miss a shot, it also seems that he had been an active soldier.

This one is a bit of a stretch, but one of Cypher's voicelines seems to hint towards a past war (or maybe even current? who knows). Like, his match start line "the back alleys, or the streets of war. There is no difference. Just nicer toys", indicating his experience of participating in warfare. Or perhaps he had lived in a warzone?

In any case, that's like three places where a (possible) armed conflict/war took place. Though, it's unclear how recent it was, considering that Brimstone had managed to take at least one job as a Kingdom security member before he founded VP, and we don't know the time in-between military/past life Sova and Cypher had before they joined (if they had any).

Maybe before Kingdom Corporation had fully settled into their place as energy provider monopoly, the idea of a better energy source made countries start wars over radianite? Or perhaps did radianite fuel weapon development in a Cold War-esque period that eventually burst into war, like the arms race before WWI?

It's not really relevant to the current story being told I guess, but I'm just curious about the worldbuilding/history. I wonder if the lore team will ever reveal more info on that beyond like, dead Tariq Porter and the dossiers?

[nothingstayshiddenfromme]

do you think that sometimes when cypher looks in the mirror his own face makes him feel sick to see? he looks in the mirror and what he sees is the face of the man who failed to protect his whole world staring back at him. maybe he wears his mask so he can tolerate himself a little bit more, too.

[yukasyukasyukasyukas]

Hc agents full names and Birthdays ‼️‼️‼️

I'm gonna cry, Tumblr deleted more than half of what I spent two hours writing😔😔😔💔💔💔😩💙🐗🙌🐱😔😭🙌😨🇩🇬🐁

Brimstone: Liam Joseph Byrne, middle name given after his grandfather

January 15, 1995 (Valorant: 55yo, irl: 29yo)

Viper: Just Sabine Callas

March 20, 2018 (Valorant: 32yo, irl: 6yo)

Omen: John Morris, I hate thinking of English surnames, é paia demais😔

October 30, 2021 (Valorant: 29yo, irl: 3yo)

Killjoy: Klara Emilie Böringer, she looks like she's named Emily idk

June 16, 2025 (Valorant: 25yo, irl: not born yet)

Cypher: Amir Adil Mohammed al Amari, thought the names sounded good together

May 10, 2005 (Valorant: 45yo, irl: 19yo)

Sova: Alexander Novikov, he doesn't look like he has a middle name

July 28, 2016 (Valorant: 34yo, irl: 8yo)

Sage: Wei Ling Ying, I hate when characters have, canonically, more than one given name

June 5, 2022 (Valorant: 28yo, irl: 2yo)

Phoenix: Jamie Akin Adeyemi, named after his Grandfather too

September 2, 2030 (Valorant: 20yo, irl: not born yet)

Jett: Han Sunwoo but her friends used to call her Joon-He because she told one of them that was her name when she was a kid and it sticked

February 20, 2028 (Valorant: 22yo, irl: not born yet)

Reyna: Zyanya Mayra Mondragón, she looks like she's named Mayra so she is

December 7, 2018 (Valorant: 32yo, irl: 6yo)

Raze: Tayane de Santos Alves

June 26, 2026 (Valorant: 24yo, irl: not born yet)

Breach: Erik Torsten, having a name too long could make it easier to identify him when his family was hiding from the police

August 17, 2007 (Valorant: 42yo, irl: 17yo)

Yoru: Kiritani Ryo Akio, just Ryo is too short😔

December 27, 2024 (Valorant: 26yo, irl: Soom to born but not born yet)

He looks like no one cares about his birthday

Skye: Kirra Adie Foster

April 2, 2023 (Valorant: 27yo, irl: 1yo)

Astra: Efia Nanyamka Danso

May 20, 2022 (Valorant: 28yo, irl: 2yo)

Kay/o:

Several days bc it took long between his building and adjustments, 2055 (Valorant: 3 years in his timeline, not made yet on the normal one, irl: not made yet)

In the lore he is from several centuries on the future but it doesn't make sense since he met Reyna, Sage, Brimstone etc in his timeline

Chamber: Vincent Devell Jaques Fabron , he seems rich and looks like he has a long name

January 21, 2017 (Valorant: 33yo, irl: 7yo)

Neon: Tala Nicole Dimaapi Valdez, her name is already long enough no need to add more

March 20, 2031 (Valorant: 19yo, irl: not born yet)

Fade: Hazal Nilufer Eyletmez

November 19, 2024 (Valorant: 26yo, irl: exactly 6 weeks old)

Harbor: Varun Farid Batra

July 6, 2020 (Valorant: 30yo, irl: 4yo)

Gekko: Mateo Francisco Armendaríz de la Fuente, in my head, Francisco and Enzo have the same vibe but Francisco is timeless

August 2, 2030 (Valorant: 20, irl: not born yet)

Deadlock: Legally got rid of the rest so it's just Iselin, used to be Iselin Ylva Ege

December 25, 2022 (Valorant: 28, irl: 1 year and 11 months old/ practically 2yo)

She also looks like no one cares Abt her birthday

Iso: Yu Li Zhao

October 20, 2028 (Valorant: 22yo, irl: not born yet)

Clove: legally Rory Campbell, social name is Clove

November 7, 2031 (Valorant: 19 yo, irl: not born yet)

Vyse: Vivian Zhu

June 5, 2018 (Valorant: 32yo, irl: 6yo)

[kanomitri]

belated update: THE GIRLIES ARE FIGHTING

[yourstrulynameless]

Listen. I love pathetic men as much as the next guy BUT CYPHER DOES NOT LISTEN TO MITSKI—

HAVE YOU SEEN HIS CANON PLAYLIST ??????

THIS GUY LISTENS TO AUTOTUNE RAP.

With that said, I’m gonna analyse him based on his actual playlist now.

There’s 3 main categories of what he listens to:

Chill or upbeat English Music

Arabic Rap

Chill Instrumentals

Sadly I can’t understand the Arabic music, so I’ll be basing this off the other two categories. If someone could provide English translations to the Arabic songs I’ll make a part 2 to this! For now, here’s my thoughts.

The World Is Mine (Whole World Ahead)

This is most certainly reflects his period pre-protocol. Not in a sad way, but it shows his time as a criminal. It could be about him doing illegal shit with his wife as his partner in crime. It could be about living poor and getting those luxuries any means possible. In any case, it shows how he doesn’t care for the law or abide by it with any regard. He looks to the future, what could be, and he chooses to move forward than look back.

It Runs Through Me

This could be him more reminiscing about his wife while already in Protocol. It’s looking back fondly but at the same time appreciating where he is now. He knows his roots and how he can never let go of them, but it’s not a chain rather a trail. You can’t take it away, but his experience gives him the clarity in the moment to make action. Again, this song reflects his carefreeness as well. He seems to really like having fun.

Nightrider

This is the second song by Tom Misch on his playlist, which isn’t that important but I just love Tom Misch and I’m very happy his playlist made me find him.

This highlights how he’s living a much more expensive life in Protocol. He can afford expensive things like his teas and trips to other places without worrying. But it’s also a reminder he’s working for this. He hunts as the job, tracks targets down, shakes information out of people. And he enjoys it.

Timeless

This one is the only “sad” English song here. It’s haunting. It’s the pain that looms over him timelessly. His wife is gone, in one way or another, and he can’t help but think of her. He can’t help but remember her. It’s bittersweet, because she’s wonderful as she always was. This is also the last song in the playlist. Maybe it’s because he wants to keep this buried.

Swingtheory

This is the first out of the two instrumental songs. Despite it’s tech-y tone, it’s human underneath. There’s sounds of breathing. Hidden under intentionality and structure, there is a man. There is someone alive. He is alive, and breaths air no different to you or I.

Mental Acupuncture

Acupuncture is the type of alternative medicine where you insert needles at specific points in the body. It isn’t based on science. However, with the context of Cypher’s abilities, the name of the song could imply how he inserts himself into the minds of his enemies. He learns them, knows exactly what to do to make them respond in certain ways. He catches patterns and knows how to make people repeat them, just like how the song repeats certain sections almost like glitches.

In conclusion, he seems like he’s a lot more chill or portrays himself as such than most people think. He’s mischievous, he likes having fun, he’s aware of his past and how it haunts him but he’s able to live in the moment and enjoy the things he never could before. And at heart, he’s still a street kid that listens to autotune rap.

Let me know if any of you have thoughts to add on to this or think I’m wrong in any sections!

Also, as a bonus, here’s a playlist I made him based on his canon one

Buncha “let’s rob a bank and fuck around” energy along with more chill stuff and even a tech instrumental, enjoy ^ ^

[yelenaa-romanova]

So here are my (cluttered) thoughts about the cinematic because I'm hyped af and don't know who to talk to why not

Cypher didn't die!

Iso is so babygirl!

The sounds of the ingame util and abilities were so perfect I love easter eggs like this

Omen with the new gun looked so freaking cool like YESS

CYPHER DIDN'T DIE!

Animation was beautiful and on point as always, I especially enjoyed the shots with the location names, felt like a movie

About that, Riot, I'm waiting 👀

The shot that had SCATTER written across the scene with Omen pushing his former boss out of the window was pure perfection

Love how the animation style changed for the flashbacks

Viper is hot pretty and shady af but goddamn this woman could do things to me

Omen saying "I'll deliver it personally" in the end gave me chills and I need a separate video just about that

None of them died and they just kicked ass together and it made me very excited! I need more!!

Also I wonder if Brim and the other higher ups at VP know about Omen and Viper's shared history

I feel like shit is about to go down and I hope we get new voicelines about the new lore

[zeggyzone]

the intimacy of torture | cyphber

chamber/cypher (valorant) tags: torture, psychological torture, cigarettes, kidnapping, gun violence, delirium, unreliable narrator, aftermath of torture, aftermath of violence, angst, violence, graphic descriptions of violence, graphic description of vomit, vomit, whump, cypher whump, torturer deadeye, dead dove: do not eat, hurt no comfort, canon divergence, near death experience, cross-posted on ao3

synopsis: after the events of the SHATTERED strike team incident, cypher is sent out on a reconnaissance mission where he is tasked with understanding just exactly *who* those agents fighting alongside viper were. after two weeks, the trail goes cold, and cypher is a second too late in finding out why. or, cypher gets kidnapped by omega earth chamber (deadeye) and tortured.

sfw? very graphic so idk. 6.3k words.

notes: hello! i’m back, this time with a lot of angst. - i think what i wrote is rather graphic. continue at your own risk. - any, and ALL “accidental uses” of different names are ABSOLUTELY INTENTIONAL. - canon divergence where instead of simply digging through omega archives via alpha earth to uncover ATLAS, cypher is sent to omega earth to find out in person. everything else is the same. - cypher’s fake name is ‘ Khidae Eak ‘ - it gets horny. really horny. - translations will be provided in the end notes. - cypher is a linguist nerd, french people use arabic curse words (from what i know) - i made this while listening to old romantic music that you’d probably find in your dad’s vinyl collection. most of this playlist, actually. listen to it while reading if you want! happy reading :)

Omega Earth wasn’t everything Cypher expected it to be.

As much as Pearl’s geodome was a beautiful place to reside, he was disappointed. Even if the giant sunfish that swam atop and the comic shop that Cypher frequently visited (despite its harsh propaganda) were nothing short of pleasant, it was still Omega Earth. He could get used to it, maybe– plus, he would’ve loved to buy another comic if it weren’t for the circumstances he was in.

Cypher was put on a recon mission; his only directive was to locate information on ATLAS and their presence on Omega Earth. Killjoy was incredibly against it, given their previous run-in during their time as the SHATTERED strike team, but Cypher insisted on his ability.

He’s been here for two weeks now, and all he’s gathered so far are the locations of different ATLAS operational facilities; A site and B site. The doors were often guarded by security cameras, so Cypher made an effort to avoid them, but he isn’t one for keeping his distance for extended periods. Like Icarus, he frequently finds himself flying too close to the sun, threatening to get burned.

Occasionally, he met with his fellow Alpha Earth agents, oftentimes Yoru, who used his dimensional rift to retrieve and relay information back to Alpha Earth in a stealthy, swift manner. Cypher was supposed to meet with him today, but he was taking a bit longer than usual.

He eventually found himself walking around. He bought a comic for memorabilia, a cup of coffee at the little Pérola Café pop-up, and then a few bottles of cherry brandy from that little winery down by the plaza. He circled back to the Garden of Heroes as soon as he got the memo that things were back on schedule— that was of course, after he returned to his safehouse and pulled on his mask. Pearl can know of Khidae Eak, but they will not see Amir El Amari.

The walk is cheerful, bustling,

and incredibly short.

Cypher doesn’t remember the details. All he knows is that eyes were on him, and evading them was not going to be easy.

The broker; hood and scarf on at the commencement of August, body completely covered. His eyes dart around the barren garden– the occasional tourist here and there– and he spots someone. Familiarity lingers in the air– the same glance, the same frame– it couldn’t be. 

Cypher remembers looking at his PDA, ready to urge Yoru into hurrying up (excuse his phrasing), and that being compromised isn’t something that he’d appreciate. But he decides to start typing a few moments too late.

He remembers the sound of rushed footsteps, the smell and taste of alcohol, and a hushed urgency uttered in Portuguese, the enunciation nasally in essence, almost as if the orator was not a native speaker. The realization made Cypher’s head spin– or maybe it was the chloroform.

– It could be.

That’s how he managed to get ripped from his desired location with his hands and ankles cuffed to an uncomfortable metal chair, the taste of alcohol lingering on his tongue; his surroundings are dimly lit– or maybe it’s his eyes adjusting to the dark as he wakes up after being unconscious for God knows how long– and his wrists hurt. 

“Attacher ton amant à une chaise,”

Cypher exhales through his nose, the saying all too familiar, speaking honeyed on his dry tongue, – it could be.

– “C’est simple comme bonjour.”

“Vous savez votre français.”

“Et mes mots sûrs.”

“Vous êtes dégoûtant.”

“J’ai appris du meilleur.”

“My double?”

“Yes,” Cypher says, the slightest growl in his voice.

Deadeye exhales through his nose, feigning a laugh, which comes out an amused huff as he closes his captive, compelling his hat down by the rim, so gently that Cypher is reminded of his Vincent back home.

“Why are you here, Amir?”

He puffs, “Careful, I might as you the same thing, Vincent—“

The rattling of a snake,

the breaking of bones,

a groan from a broker,

the taste of iron on his tongue.

“You’re being a pain.”

“But you love when I’m in it.”

“Not you.”

Deadeye’s countenance flattens, his Headhunter spattered with Cypher’s blood as he bears his free hand to tilt Cypher's chin up to face him. His fingers trail down his throat, grazing it like he could tear his skin apart with his fingernails, just until they match the bottom of Cypher’s mask. his breath hitches. His Adam’s apple dips.

“Not the mask,” he almost begs.

Deadeye uses his Headhunter to chuck Cypher’s hat off, allowing it to fall to the floor as he practically shreds off the cuffed male’s mask. His nose is bleeding— bloodied— broken, and the bitter taste of iron sits upon his tongue, his gums an unhealthy brown from the cheap cigarettes he smoked with his beautiful Vincent.

“We’re long past that point, Amir.”

Deadeye speaks with certainty, but his actions speak louder, and they’re yelling in Cypher’s face: “I will kill you.”

But Cypher doesn’t fear death. He never has. Not since then.

Deadeye’s gums are the same color as tobacco, evident as he scowls, teeth yellowed from the smoke that Cypher assumed his counterpart blew into his mouth and forced him to savor, the cinnamon cigars being far too much of a delicacy to waste.

Cypher wants his Vincent.

“How did you know where I was?”

Deadeye strikes his pistol, barrel-first into the side of Cypher’s head, a groan stemming from his strained throat.

“I ask the questions here.”

Cypher is one for witty remarks, “so ask.”

It earns him a muzzle to the forehead.

“Do you want to die, Amir?”

“You want to kill me.”

Deadeye pushes the muzzle further onto Cypher’s forehead, “I said that I ask the questions—“

“No, you misunderstand,” Deadeye’s hand quivers with the beginning, and Cypher feels the ground shift, “it was a statement.”

The more Cypher speaks, the more he feels his heart start to beat behind his eyes– he’s seeing double and it’s like he sees Deadeye and his Vincent in front of him simultaneously. The hallucination makes him feel grounded. He wants to reach out and cup his Vincent’s cheek, rub the scar on his cheekbone, and turn away.

But Deadeye doesn’t have a scar on his cheekbone. He’s not Vincent, and he never will be.

The foreboding silence makes Cypher feel like he’s done something he will regret, and his thoughts are proven correct as soon as Deadeye pulls back the hammer of his Headhunter.

“You’re right, my friend,”

Deadeye flicks his hand. Cypher’s ears ring. His throat becomes sandpaper.

“I do want to kill you.”

He shot his fucking leg. He shot him in the fucking leg.

“Because you know too much,” it fucking hurts, “and I need to make sure you don’t tell any more than you already have– one way or another.”

The breathing is heavy in the room, and Cypher feels like he’s going to suffocate if he doesn’t get his shit together. He’s a grown man cuffed to a chair with blood dripping down his leg and bleeding into his baggy gray pants. He loved those pants. The air is crisp, hard to swallow, and hot. It’s as if Chamber’s body heat and musk are forcing itself down Cypher’s throat– it’s asphyxiating.

Chamber’s hand clutches Cypher’s jaw, tautening each time a hic fled his throat, his eyes fleeting tears. Cypher thinks his jaw might give out with the way he’s clenching it so hard– Deadeye slams his skull against the concrete wall. Cypher cries.

“And I’m not opposed to using methods that are considered corrupt, Amir.”

He’s dizzy, he’s losing blood, and he knows he has to survive whatever Deadeye puts him through. He has to. He must. Cypher’s breaths are labored, but his eyes don’t falter– they’re forced open and he just wants to sleep—the intimacy of torture– plagued by your lover.

“I could leave you braindead, do you ever think of that?” Deadeye asks it with a sickening smile as if he’s enjoying it. Cypher would not be surprised if it was some crazy fucking fantasy of his– Cypher feels his face tighten.

“I’d rather not,” he whispers, and Chamber smiles at him, pseuding innocence. Cypher fears what's next. The broker knows everything about everyone but is oblivious and frightened here. He wants to fight back– he has to fight back.

Save your life, Amir– you’ve only got one.

“Imagine what your friends back home will think,” Deadeye tilts his head, twirling a curl next to Cypher’s temple. His lips purse and he pulls his head away as best he can, his brows furrowing in disgust– trepidation– sorrow? Cypher doesn’t even know what. “What would your Vincent think? Will he cry? Will you comfort him?”

Deadeye’s twisted smile widens, “Will you even survive to see him?”

The finger leads down to Cypher’s lower eyelid, his middle finger pulling down at it, his pointer prodding at his eyeball. The feeling is abnormal– the pad of Deadeye’s finger pushes at Cypher’s eye, and he tries to shut them, pulling his head away as sufficiently as he can. His mind blanks.

“You often prattle about being the ‘all-seeing eye’ Amir,” Deadeye’s hand doesn’t halt, but stays put. A hazy breath leaves Cypher’s throat, terrified, “but a spider cannot string its web half blind.”

Wait, Cypher wants to say, but it comes out as a pathetic whine, and Deadeye laughs at him. He laughs in his face. Not like this— no, it can’t end like this. 

“You’re shaking.”

Part of him wants to bite the bullet and talk back, but the sheer fear that displays itself within his clenched jaw renders him wordless as Deadeye’s fingernail digs at his cornea. The bawl that seethes through Cypher’s teeth is piercing; he begs for mercy, forgiveness– anything to spark empathy in Deadeye’s amused stare, and from behind his wet finger, stained with Cypher’s tears (he didn’t even realize he was crying), he sees those same bedroom eyes that yielded him speechless in better ways than this.

He swats his head down, and Chamber swiftly slaps him, grabbing him by his jaw once again; the familiar ache returns. He’s cursing at him, laughing, and it’s demeaning. Cypher is glad that his head is ringing so much that he cannot hear him, and that his eyes are too blurred to even view the face of his love.

Or what it would’ve been, at least.

Cypher then realizes what is at stake here– he could possibly ruin everything the protocol had going for them right now– getting killed by an Omega agent could very well compromise the whole operation, much less get him killed. Cypher could care less about that.

He imagines Chamber wouldn’t, though.

So he forces himself to think. The pain is like sparklers underneath his skin, but he blinks back the hot tears and clenches his fists behind his back, fingernails digging into the skin– he tries to focus on that instead.

Handcuffs, you know how to get out of those. Crime novels might not be the best source to rely on, but it’s all you have, Amir; work with it. Chamber gently traces his jawline and he gulps. Cypher tries not to think about it too hard– if he does, he won’t see Deadeye anymore. He cannot handle that outcome.

To a flick of lighter, Cypher looks up– second nature, really– to see Deadeye lighting a cigarette; filter-tipped Virginia blend. Expensive. The authenticness of his character is uncanny. Cypher wants to throw up.

A London delicacy that has to be shipped in at a much higher price, and Chamber is holding it in his right hand, lifting Cypher’s chin to look at him with his left. His captor blows the smoke out in Cypher’s face, and he inhales– a reflex– as the smoke tingles against his eyes. Deadeye twirls the cigarette in his fingers, and inches the cherry towards Cypher’s neck.

“You’re greedy, Amir.” He says, the heat tickling the hairs that already stand on edge. “These go for fifty-five United States dollars per pack. Specialty blends Virginia tobacco, and you’re taking my leftovers,” Deadeye punctuates with a laugh, “you are pathetic. Très pathétique.”

The cherry makes contact, and the scorch makes him fume. “You’re wasting them–”

“On trash, yes,” Chamber says, “But I’ll relight it just for you, if that is what you want, Amir.”

“No,”

The zippo clicks again. Cypher braces himself.

Three cigarette burns mark his neck, and Chamber looks at them like an artist would his magnum opus, prideful in his masterpiece. He drops the cigarette onto Cypher’s shoe, stepping into it.

Cypher zones out.

Then he feels something against his left thigh. Thin– sharp.

Khra, fuck. Of course, he has to pull it out now.

“You’re ravishing like this, Amir,” you are not doing what I fucking think you are doing, “it feels as if it is my job to impair you,” you are not his, “Vous êtes mon problème, after all.” Focus– one hand to abduct the joint, the other set in place to perform the deed.

Dislocate your thumb and slip out your hand. Dislocate your carpometacarpal joint, specifically. You don’t want to break your hand– that’s one less resource you have– if you dislocate your thumb, you can pop it back into place. Easy as pie? Hopefully. Deadeye’s hand falls. Cypher exhales. He was not aware he was holding his breath.

Within the next strike, play it off. Easy.

Chamber drags down the flat side of the blade against his femur, and as the blade is pushed ever so slightly, Cypher lets out a yowl, his thumb angled at an abnormal angle now– one more to go. He uses his other hand to pry off the handcuffs. He forces his shoulders to stay put– a strenuous task, but he manages, and he makes sure to quietly drop the cuff, avoiding any sound cues that may alert his captor.

They did not die for you to fail to endure.

Cypher’s hair stands on end.

It seems Deadeye doesn’t notice the ploy, as he says something about how he had “barely touched” him and that he “shouldn’t jolt like that.” As if he cared.

Cypher can handle a slashed thigh, and he can handle a bullet to the leg– but either way, he will end up bringing fists to a knife and gunfight. He doesn’t even know if Deadeye has additional weapons on him. He fears the worst, even if he’s too set on persisting to realize it.

The blade digs into his skin, and it takes so much inside of him not to buck his legs while dislocating his other thumb, and a growl burrows itself in his throat, coming out in tragically sputtered speech. His eyes shake, looking down even if his brain told him not to, and he sees the blood seep from the cut, slowly– so achingly slowly– staining his already soiled pants. The blood from his nose has already dried and the smell is rancid. He feels a stinging, putrid, and chunky liquid rise in his throat. He bites his tongue and forces the egregious mixture back down. You have seen worse. this is nothing.

He works his other hand of its confines as best he can, his eyes flittering with every twinge of discomfort. He wants to thank God if there even is one out there, that Deadeye doesn’t suspect anything. Maybe there is one if he’s survived this long.

Cypher’s atheist views aside, he ignores the edge slicing into his skin and the wetness dripping down his thigh, working to pop his left thumb back into the socket. Chamber meets Cypher’s dazed stare. He smiles. Cypher exhales, his breath malodorous as olden remains of vomit rest upon it, the thumb unsuccessful in popping back into place as Deadeye rubs his thumb on the wound– it pricks. He feels small crystals chafe at the serrated edges of the cut, and Cypher realizes that he’s genuinely rubbing salt in the wound.

There is something so intimate about it. Captive and captor. He will never look at that smile the same.

Cypher looks at his ankles, one cuff under the leg of the chair and the other connected to him. Lift the chair. Slide it under. He almost laughs– it couldn’t be that easy, and he’s right; he’s shot, he’s cut, and he’s lost blood. Not to fucking mention that he can’t feel his face, but can somehow feel the sweat dripping down the side of his crown, sticking his curly brown hair to his forehead. The broker pops his right thumb back into the socket, flinching as Deadeye slams the knife in the middle of his legs.

He recounts. His legs have been shot at and sliced. That’s a disadvantage. He has no weapons. If he took the knife, he’d be bringing a knife to a gunfight. He doesn’t know if Deadeye has a quick reloader. Maybe he can get him to waste his bullets. Yes, that seems plausible.

Chamber’s hand reaches up to his jawline again, his thumb parting Cypher’s lips ever so slightly, but his jaw stays clenched– he can feel the simmering of salt on his lips. Deadeye forces him to open up, resting the salt-covered thumb on his tongue, and holding it down. A pathetic, broken sob leaves Cypher’s throat. Just a bit more. Find an opening, Amir. You cannot die here. You cannot let him destroy you like this,

because what would happen if you allowed it?

His breath hitches in his throat as Chamber forces his thumb deeper, “Clean it,” he demands, and Cypher leaps into the breach, the taste of sodium and iron on his tongue, causting– a chemical reaction that Cypher wishes didn’t do things to him. He imagines his actual lover performing and wants to fucking bite Deadeye’s thumb off.

“Watch the teeth,” Deadeye scowls, pulling his thumb with a pop and wiping it on Cypher’s shoulder. He swats his hand to clean it, looking away for just a fucking second. That is all the time Cypher needs. His heart aches for warmth, touch– Vincent– so he stands up, tugs the knife out, grabs the chair, and hurls it at him.

He doesn’t realize how badly his legs want to give out until he’s standing upright (more like glorified perching with the way his knees buckle), his grip on the knife faltering ever so slightly as he catches his breath, feeling the adrenaline kick through his veins. He knows it will be over soon– he is only human. 

He squints as Deadeye tries to recover from the metal hurled at his frame, and he grunts– and of course, he doesn’t have his fucking glasses. His eyesight comes back to bite him in the ass in a life-or-death situation. Maybe God isn’t real. The room is dark, only lit by a buzzing lightbulb that hurts Cypher’s head. It occurs to him that he shouldn’t have time to think because if he can, he’s doing something wrong.

A bullet flies past his head and it brings him back to reality– he is the disadvantage, one dislocated thumb refusing to pop back into place, legs ready to give out at any given moment, and Deadeye just fucking shot at him.

Cypher yells, legs flailing as he flies towards Deadeye, firing blindly. He can tell that he is disoriented still, so he uses it to his advantage. One hand reaches to Deadeye’s wrist– the one holding Headhunter– and pins it down to the best of his ability, kneeing his crotch (hard, at that) to further disable him. Deadeye’s free hand balls into a fist, and slams into Cypher’s cheekbone, groaning out in pain from the previous knee, sprawled on the floor as he tries to keep his hold on Headhunter firm, but Cypher tugs it out of his hand, head spinning as it slides all the way across the linoleum floor, clanking against a piece of metal.

An exit route.

Cypher slams the knife into Deadeye’s right wrist, and he wails, a loud curse echoing through the desolate room as his left shoots up to grab Cypher by the scalp. Chamber tugs his head back, harshly, and Cypher growls, kneeing him once more to slacken his grasp, raising the knife from the puncture with a hellish sound. The ridges of the knife dig against Deadeye’s skin, slitting his wrist into a perfect cavern, through and through. Cypher can feel both of their strength diminishing.

The words spoken are lost to CCTV footage, (that’s if there is a camera in here in the first place) and whizzed memory, but Cypher feels his body move on autopilot, rolling off Chamber, even if he can feel the tightened grip on his scalp pull at his hair follicles, and his body follows in the path that Chamber is dragging him in. He headbutts him once– twice– Cypher stumbles backward when his grip loosens, immediately sitting up to grab his right wrist, squeezing it to try and stop the pain. His groans lay low within his throat, guttural.

Cypher feels his head spinning, and the adrenaline starts to wear off– he cannot allow that to happen.

He holds his head, knife laying in his hand as he pushes himself up to his feet, legs wobbling after each frantic step, trying to find the gleam of the Headhunter as a guide towards the metal door. It’s so, so close, and Cypher thinks he’s reaching out to the door, only to fall over.

Deadeye yanked at one of the cuffs dragging behind his ankle, hard enough to pull Cypher down to one knee. Maroon secretion spreads along the floor in generous portions with the pressure, the sensation closer to tv static. Diaphoresis sets in, and bullets of sweat excavate out of his body, heat evaporating into the still air. It’s sticky, sweltering, humid— wet. He hurls himself over, reaching out towards the door.

Every waking thought made his head pound– his life wasn’t flashing before his eyes, no, it was the terrible anxiety and realization that every decision he has made in his sad, pathetic life was a total failure and he had to be beaten to death by his lover’s clone to deduce that? Nora. Hadiya.

How could he let this happen? His head spins, this is it.

God forbid you meet at a crossroads with Amir El Amari.

He is the greatest mistake you could make.

Chamber crawls his way towards Cypher, flipping him over and trapping him between his legs, heaving. His hair is disheveled, framing his forehead with a slight glisten of sweat, and Cypher thinks he almost looks beautiful.

Deadeye takes the knife with the smallest struggle, using his right hand to hold it despite the gushing wound, his other creeping up to Cypher’s neck.

Chamber’s fingers graze Cypher’s neck so lovingly for a second, so short that he feels at ease. Chamber tightens. Cypher’s breath hitches. He whimpers. He pleas. Chamber wants to see him squirm.

Because what is more intimate than a captive and his captor?

“You fucking did this,” his words are gruff and are punctuated by the sickening ‘shhk’ of a blade ripping fabric and skin— Cypher doesn’t register the stab below his clavicle; rather, he’s too focused on grabbing Deadeye’s shoulder to push him off. He has one hand clawing at Deadeye’s wrist, hoping it’ll do something, anything, to get him one last breath of air.

Thinking is so hard, but he manages.

“My fucking—“ an enraged huff, “my hand, ayreh feek—“ he picks up Cypher by the neck and slams his head back down into the solid floor. He yowls. Cypher pushes him away, hand right under his jaw, trying to create distance. A growl, “vous ne valez rien.”

Cypher lets go of his wrist, trying to pull the knife out with a cigarette-befouled voice, “I’m going to kill you.”

Deadeye digs the knife in deeper, much to Cypher’s distress, and in response, punches Deadeye in the jaw. His captor shouts, reaching out behind him, throwing something– Cypher’s eyes suddenly fucking sting. Crystalline stabs at his cornea with each blink, like icicles under his eyelids, and he discovers that Deadeye just threw salt at him. Fucking salt. It’s scattered all over his face, catnapping the places where bones dip, and he feels it fall to the back of his throat. He shuts his eyes, hurling upward as he coughs, the hand around his neck uncooperative in his efforts to rid the sodium crystals from the back of his mouth.

“Not if I do it first.” He says through a laugh tainted with mockery, “I will crush your eyes,” he dips down to Cypher’s ear, “Amir,” Chamber says. Cypher doesn’t know if it’s a threat or a promise.

His grip is unforgiving, irritated, and deadly. He wants to break Cypher’s neck.

For once, Amir El Amari fears death.

Cypher hears melodies in his ear, ringing ever so slightly. Jazz– romantic jazz, at that. Songs that Chamber played for him late at night after romantic (or less romantic) scenes, or a long day out in the field, and all they needed was a meal and a nap. Trumpets and pianos, saxophones and bass, played upon an old stereo with antique reverb and a low pass filter that seems to become more muffled the tighter Chamber squeezes– he squints, free arm reaching outwards beyond Deadeye’s acknowledgment.

He’s talking. Cypher can’t hear him. He just needs to extend his hand.

His vision is blurred. He feels the room starting to get darker. His heartbeat is slowing. Why so aware? Why now? In his final moments, he sees his lover and not his captor– why?

A twisted fucking way to go out, and Cypher doesn’t consider himself twisted.

A grip. Finally.

Cypher’s shaky finger pulls the decorated nano-carbon steel into his grasp, and a huff of air leaves his nose. His hands tremble in his wake, Deadeye, so focused on staring him down, that he doesn’t realize the limb snaking under his own and aiming the radianite-infused firearm right under his chin.

Cypher weakly smiled, mustering up whatever strength he had left. 

Through broken breaths, “Laila sa'ida, habibi.”

The trigger is squeezed. The grip extricates. Cypher breathes. He pushes him off. Blood seeps onto his white collared shirt. Cypher brushes his face of bloodshed. He looks at the ceiling.

He just wants to sleep. But he can’t. So he won’t.

Cypher looks at the steaming gun, discarding it to the side, his back, head, – hell, his whole body aching as he shimmies his way towards the knife. He looks at Deadeye; his eyes are blown wide open, twitching ever so slightly, jaw slacked. He lies there, unresponsive as Cypher holds the knife in his dominant hand, cutting his left sleeve at the shoulder seam, and pulling it over his gloves. He leans over, grabbing the leg of the metal chair, and setting it up straight as best he can. Cypher puts his left foot up on the chair, looking at the cut. He furrows his brows, recovering from the blackness in his eyes, placing the knife on the chair. Cypher pops his right thumb back into its socket. He jerks his hand, getting used to it.

“Sorry for ruining your shirt,” he mutters, picking up the cut sleeve and unrolling it, “but you destroyed my favorite pair of pants,” Cypher ties the tourniquet, “so we’ll call it even.” He reaches over to cut off Deadeye’s other sleeve, repeating the action and looking at the bullet wound. He looks at the chair, then his thigh. Straight through. No bullet to pull out. That’s good.

It had just missed his bone. He’s one lucky, unlucky guy.

As soon as the deed is done, he wipes his nose on his sleeve, the whiteness sullies with dried blood, pulling out a few hairs from his face. He sniffs. It is unpleasant. He elevates his legs on the chair to regulate his blood flow as best he can, lying next to the corpse of his former captor. He nicks off another piece of fabric to stuff in the stab wound below his clavicle. He writhes.

He feels the familiar reverberation in his lower stomach, then the gurgle in his throat. 

Of course. Why now? Nonetheless, he uses his arms to push him up off the floor, scrambling and clawing towards the corner for purchase. The sick noise in his throat materializes and before Cypher knows it, vile liquid exerts itself from his mouth, throat salty as the bile fans into the corner, painting the walls with its projectile and splattering onto his knees. A sharp, caramelized, nutty stench paired with butyric acid fills the air. It’s fucking putrid. He does this twice, retching violently as his body hurls over like a cat, legs shaking as his left hand begs the wall for acquisition.

By the end of it, his body feels ten times lighter, but he feels as if he threw up all of his vital organs. He might as well have, given the way his body almost slumped into his puddle of puke. He pushes himself away from the wall, falling backward onto the floor, careful enough so that he won’t harm his head any more than it has been. His very alive head lies upside down next to Deadeye’s very much unalived one.

Now it’s just Cypher, his thoughts, and Deadeye’s corpse.

Help should be on the way, yes?

So, kick back, smoke a cigarette, and find a way to contact Alpha Earth. Yoru should have picked up that something is wrong, reported back to HQ, and they’re sending people— probably not a whole strike team, but people— to retrieve him. It’s that easy.

He lies there for a minute– then five minutes– then ten minutes pass until he exchanges his gaze at the ceiling for Deadeye, then his vest. Perhaps it’d be a good idea to search him.

He grunts, pushing himself off the floor, head still buzzed from the previous beatings, sitting with his legs straight next to his cadaver, keeping the tourniquets from loosening. He reaches over, twisting his hips to look over Deadeye, first checking his vest pockets.

A speed loader, eight bullets. It seems Deadeye was ready for a fight. Obviously, he did not prepare well enough.

A zippo lighter. Majestic Eagle– 1990’s vintage. At least he’d have something to occupy him.

A handkerchief. Sunset in color swirled in design. It matches his tie. The crimson from the bullet has seeped its way into it. Cypher grimaces. It’s still wet.

Cypher wants to hope that there’s water. There isn’t even a flask. Apparently, Deadeye doesn’t have the same habits as his lover.

His pants now.

An art deco, 1930s-themed cigarette tin with seventeen treasurer cigarettes left. He might as well put them to use if it meant he’d be stuck here for a while. Chainsmoking is a very good use of your time if you don’t think about it too much.

An Altoids can. Open it? Around 60 mints. He might have to survive off that for a bit.

Cypher pockets the Altoids, quick to crack open the cigarette tin and flip open the zippo, lighting himself a coffin nail, savoring the specialty tobacco. He flips the lighter closed, the cylinder resting between his lips as he digs around for anything else– maybe his old belongings.

The broker manages to pull himself to his feet, his eyes still blurred to a manageable degree. A black plastic bag is what he’s looking for– his comic, his brandy, and hopefully his biscotti is in there. He hears plastic rustle by his feet, along with a clinking of glass, and he almost laughs in victory before he realizes that there could very well be people outside his escape route.

He picks up the bag and trudges his way to the metal chair, resting the plastic bag in his lap as he sits. He cracks open the bottle of brandy after desperately searching for his PDA (it hadn’t been in there– a shame; at least Omega agents were smart enough to do that, though), pulling the cork out with his teeth and taking a strong swig to wash down the taste of vomit residue on his teeth and tongue.

His eyes dart back to Deadeye’s lifeless body, skimming his body for any part he forgot to search, hoping for a PDA, a homing device, something that could help him relay his location.

Then he feels a vibration.

It’s well known that Pearls’ power source runs underneath the city like its veins– its life force. Cypher has a feeling that it’s a hint as to where he could be situated.

If he remembers correctly, within the past few days he’s been here, the metro roars to life at around four o’clock in the afternoon on Mondays and Fridays. By that math, he’s been in here for six hours. How he slept that long? Cypher has no fucking idea. 

And, if he takes into account the fact that it takes one large rumble (that lasts half a minute, from what Cypher gathered) across the city of Pearl to send the metro down to the city of Opal, he should be at least somewhat far from the metro, established that the rumble lasted about ten seconds for him.

Maybe reading the briefing was a good thing.

Cypher takes a bite of his biscotti, downing it with a swig of brandy, setting the bottle onto the floor with a tiny clink, holding the cookie in his mouth as he kneels next to Deadeye with a grumble of discomfort, lifting him and rolling him as needed to search.

He handles something solid, and upon a few taps, he confirms that it is, in fact, a communications device. Cypher prays it's his own.

It is.

Cypher doesn’t realize how fucking lucky he is as soon as he pulls it out. It dawns on him a few moments later (after staring at the PDA, wide-eyed, and enduring a painful giggle fit of disbelief) that he has a get-out-of-jail free card, and that maybe God does exist.

He scrambles to turn it on, and even if the signal is spotty, he still has signal. He will take what he can get.

AGENT-5 [CYPHER] // 4:07 PM ALIVE DON’T KNOW LOCATION POSSIBLY A SITE CAN TRY RELAYING

AGENT-15 [YORU] // 4:13 PM TOUCHED DOWN RELAY IF POSSIBLE WE WILL FIND YOU

AGENT-01 [BRIMSTONE] // 4:17 PM STRIKE TEAM INBOUND STAY WHERE YOU ARE DO NOT ENGAGE

AGENT-5 [CYPHER] // 4:21 PM WAS NOT PLANNING ON IT HURRY

Fourteen minutes to relay twelve messages. Cypher didn’t think they’d send in the first place. But that’s beside the point; he has a job now– press down on his relay system and pray that the signal is strong enough for the strike team to find him.

But to kill time, he’s going to chain smoke, drink, and read his comic book.

What a wonderful way to spend his afternoon as a 37-year-old man.

The cigarette stays pressed between his lips as he takes a drag, digging through the plastic bag for the flimsy bundle of paper, setting it in his lap as his fingers flip the pages one by one, tucking the stick into the corner of his mouth, taking another swig of brandy.

If he was going to be in pain, he was not going to be sober.

It’s not until Cypher has reread the comic five times (which takes a while– approximately fifteen minutes per read, making him stuck there for nearly an hour and a half) that he hears sirens going off and shit hitting the fan. He stays put, however, the blaring noises are just a tad bit discomforting to his already tinnitus-symptomatic head. It then occurs to him that maybe he should put his mask back on. But that means he’d have to stop smoking. And drinking.

Shame, he was already getting buzzed.

Even worse, he expected them to take longer.

Cypher pushes himself up from his chair, the comic falling onto the floor as he reaches down to pick it up and pack his pathetic plastic bag, his legs stumbling from his sluggishness, body heavier than it should be. At the expense of his liver, he made it through whatever the hell this was. He tosses Deadeye’s Headhunter into his bag.

He sloppily pulls his mask over his head, dismissing the way his sweaty curls stuck to the insides, too drunk and in need of a bed to care. His hat still lay unmoving on the floor from events he’d rather not recall, the way that dried blood found its home on the rim from where Deadeye pushed it off sending chills down Cypher’s spine. The bottle of brandy is 75% done, (Cypher didn’t realize that either; it was good brandy, as expected from Omega), held loosely in his hand.

The footsteps and sirens blare louder within Cypher’s ears, and the white, piercing noise grows with it, much to his distress. He’s stumbling, covering his ears– he’s tired, he’s drunk, and he needs a fucking doctor. These wounds aren’t going to heal themselves and he just wants to get out. He wants to see sunlight, and fuck, the anxiety is setting inside of him again. Fuck you, Omega brandy.

The door flies open, he turns his head.

Cypher almost falls over at the sight– dark, flashing red lights on the outside make him want to fall asleep in the warmness of his coat (which probably wasn’t even warmth, given the blood he’s lost) and never wake up. Maybe it’s the alcohol talking.

Blue. Orange. Yellow. The colors are a blur.

His knees buckle, and he tumbles.

His captor.

“attacher ton amant à une chaise” = tie your lover to a chair / french

“c’est simple comme bonjour” = it’s as simple as hello / french

“vous savez votre français” = you know your french / french

“et mes mots sûrs” = and my safe words / french

“vous êtes dégoûtant” = you are disgusting / french

“j’ai appris du meilleur” = i learned from the best / french

“très pathétique” = so pathetic / french

“khra” = shit / moroccan arabic

“vous êtes mon problème” = you are my problem / french

“ayreh feek” = fuck you / arabic

“vous ne valez rien” = you are worthless / french

“laila sa'ida, habibi” = sleep well, my love / moroccan arabic

apologies if any of the arabic is incorrect. i’m on my second year of french as well, so that may be an issue too.

thank you for reading, i hope it was worth the hours i spent in a custom game as cypher on pearl to worldbuild and the time i spent scouring valorant archives to find plot devices.

huge thanks to the practice range discord server for keeping me sane during this (and giving me feedback when i was in the process of writing it)

another thanks to my beta reader, you’re a real one fr.

a follow-up chapter of the aftermath MAY come out within the next few weeks if i am feeling it. if not, maybe the next few months if i regain the motivation to work on this again :)

any questions can (and will most likely) be answered in the comments!

as always, my socials twitter tiktok tumblr

and our valorant lore-centric discord server! we’d love to have you! 人´∀｀)