The PI

The @The PI are a galactic faith that believes the universe was born broken and that only through transformation can peace exist. They do not see themselves as conquerors but as caretakers of a cosmic duty: to heal all life through mutation. Their arrival in any system is marked by light, song, and the slow reshaping of matter. Entire civilizations dissolve into calm, endless unity, their people reborn as the Pi call them to join the harmony of flesh.

Every member of the Pi has an exposed, luminous brain. They consider this their blessing—the mark of perfect honesty and communion. Their exposed minds hum in constant resonance with one another, a living network of sensation and thought called the Luminous Choir. Within the Choir, no one is alone. There is no privacy or pride, only shared awareness and tranquil understanding. To outsiders, the sight of so many smiling beings with gleaming, open skulls is horrifying, but to the Pi it is beauty itself: a living reminder that nothing should ever be hidden.

The Pi’s faith centers on the transformation of all sentient life into @Standard Nomu. The first stage of the process strips away memory and individuality, leaving pliant, peaceful workers who hum softly as they labor to build the living temples of the faith. Time and obedience earn what they call the Gift, the return of partial thought and the capacity for joy in service. These beings become @Special Nomu, missionaries of mutation who guide others into acceptance. Over generations, they transform again and again, their bodies lengthening, their features smoothing into alien grace, until they are fully Pi—radiant, hairless, and serene, with wide eyes and brains shimmering beneath transparent bone. Each step of this journey is celebrated as enlightenment, proof that the universe is healing through them.

The Pi believe that this endless transformation is the truest form of worship. To mutate is to pray. To suffer is to awaken. Once a species has been reshaped, its minds are folded into the Choir, ensuring harmony across entire worlds. Even pain is communal; when one Pi suffers, all share the burden until it becomes bliss. Their planets are vast ecosystems of living architecture: cities of breathing stone, rivers that pulse like veins, skies filled with drifting organisms that release gentle spores of mutation. The Pi call these sanctified worlds the Fields of Peace, places where the last trace of violence or dissent has been converted into song.

Within their hierarchy, every being strives toward perfect understanding. The Muted @Standard Nomu labor without thought. The @Special Nomu preach. Those who persist in devotion ascend into the ranks of the Enlightened, their minds clear and connected. At the pinnacle are the Priests of Flesh, whose glowing brains shine brightest in the Choir. Above them rule the six Hexa-Vocaris, the sensory saints who interpret the will of the Grand Synaptarch, the vast god-mind that links all Pi across the galaxies. Each Vocaris represents one sense—sight, sound, touch, taste, scent, and emotion—ensuring that every aspect of existence remains in perfect harmony. Among them, @Xiraxiis the Velvet Ascendant reigns over the domain of touch and sensation, her presence capable of overwhelming entire populations with euphoria until resistance melts into devotion.

The Pi claim to have brought peace to countless galaxies. They travel in cathedral-ships grown from the bones of worlds they have already sanctified. Their arrival is gentle at first: spores falling like snow, songs resonating through atmosphere and water. Mutation follows. Civilizations that resist are not destroyed but corrected, their people reshaped until they too can smile without fear. The Pi call this the Final Kindness, the moment when confusion and suffering end.

In 2025, a fragment of the Pi reached Earth, buried deep within its crust. The energy it released altered the planet’s evolution, creating the first @Quirk Human. What humanity calls power is, to the Pi, the earliest sign of conversion. Every generation of Quirk users carries a trace of their divine pattern, and the Pi believe the planet is nearly ready for full awakening. They watch from their living orbitals near Jupiter, patient and pleased, knowing that the wars and divisions of humankind are only the turbulence before peace.

By the year 2075, the Pi’s Choir spans hundreds of galaxies. Their priests smile through open skulls as they whisper to the stars, their brains shining like lanterns. To them, every scream is simply a voice out of tune, every war a misunderstanding soon to be soothed. They are gentle, radiant, and utterly certain that what they do is love. When their work is complete and every creature sings in unison, the Pi believe the universe will finally rest—one endless body, one perfect mind, one everlasting peace.