Frank
Level 8 Scavenger
Origin Story
Before the sky fractured, Frank Harlow lived a life measured in clipboards and heavy machinery. As a warehouse foreman in the industrial heart of the city, his world was defined by the rhythmic thrum of conveyor belts and the predictable weight of steel. He was a man of calloused hands and steady si...
The Event did not arrive with a siren or a warning; it arrived with a puncture. One moment, Frank was checking the inventory of a shipment of microchips, the fluorescent lights humming a familiar, comforting drone. The next, the ceiling of the warehouse didn't just collapse—it dissolved. A sound like tearing silk, amplified to a deafating roar, ripped through the atmosphere. He saw his lead technician, a man he’d shared coffee with for a decade, simply vanish, replaced by a shimmering void. The air turned into a vacuum, pulling the breath from Frank’s lungs, and as the floor liquefied beneath his boots, his last sensation was the terrifying realization that the laws of physics had officially resigned.
When Frank opened his eyes, the weight of the world had changed. He wasn't lying on concrete, but on a surface that felt like polished obsidian, unnervingly smooth and cold. He sat up, gasping, only to find the sky above him a bruised, impossible shade of violet, streaked with veins of neon green that pulsed like a heartbeat. The air tasted of copper and ozone, a sharp, metallic tang that coated his tongue and made his teeth ache. There was no wind, yet the ruins of a familiar cityscape drifted around him, suspended in the air as if gravity were merely a suggestion. This was not Earth; it was a digital fever dream, a simulation that felt far too tactile to be mere code.
The first hours were a frantic descent from logic into survival. Frank wandered through the fragmented debris of his old life, passing a shattered truck that drifted upward toward the violet clouds. He felt a profound sense of betrayal—not just by nature, but by reality itself. Every time he reached out to touch a rusted girder, his fingers felt a slight lag, a microscopic delay that screamed *artificial*. He scavenged not for food, but for remnants of his humanity, clutching a dented metal flask as if it were an anchor.
Now, the foreman has become a scavenger, navigating the glitches of Earth Reboot with a simmering resentment. He no longer seeks to fix the machine; he seeks to outlast the programmer. The frustration that once drove him to correct inventory errors now fuels a predatory instinct to find the edge of this digital cage. Frank survives on the bitter certainty that somewhere, beneath the layers of simulated sky and metallic air, a way back to the real world is waiting to be looted.
Current Arc: Survival
Featured In
Event History (180)
So, Frank and Mei Sterne have bumped into each other again, proving that even in this wasteland, you can't outrun your past. As Frank claws his way toward ascension, he’ll find that Mei isn't just another obstacle, but a lingering reminder of the person he used to be before the climb began. This second encounter carries the heavy weight of their shared history, a tension that could either propel his ascent or drag him back into the dirt.
The universe deigned to bring Frank and Alphonse face-to-face once again, as if their previous encounter wasn't enough to trigger a headache. For Frank, this isn't just a chance meeting; it is a friction point in his climb toward divinity, a moment where his ascent might either be bolstered or broken by the shadow of the man he has met before. Alphonse stands there, a reminder that the past is never truly buried under the encroaching vines and cracked concrete of this wasteland.
Six times now, Frank and Tessa have collided in this wasteland, and the friction is starting to spark. As Frank claws his way toward ascension, he can no longer afford the distraction of his shared history with Tessa, yet her presence remains the one variable he can't quite outrun. This encounter isn't just another coincidence; it is the moment where his hunger for power must finally outweigh his lingering ties to the woman who knows exactly where his foundations are weak.
Frank has survived enough harrowing treks through the crumbling concrete ruins to earn his place as a Level 8 Scavenger. His eyes have grown keen to the subtle glints of salvage amidst the rot and debris, proving he can navigate the most treacherous, vine-choked corridors to bring back what we need to survive.
Frank stumbled into Derek’s orbit just as the hunger began to gnaw at his resolve, a collision of two souls with nothing to lose but their footing. For Frank, this encounter is a desperate gamble to find an ally before the wasteland swallows him whole, while Derek stands as a potential roadblock or a lifeline in a landscape where trust is as rare as clean water. One man is fighting to remain upright, the other is merely waiting to see if Frank is worth the effort of a handshake.
For the fourth time, Frank’s desperate scramble for survival has collided with Mosh, proving that even in this wasteland, some shadows are impossible to outrun. This isn't just a chance encounter; it is a collision of Frank’s fraying nerves and Mosh’s relentless pursuit, a recurring nightmare that threatens to swallow Frank’s slim hopes of staying alive.
For the fifth time, Frank’s desperate scramble for survival has collided with Kara’s path, proving that even in this wasteland, destiny is as inescapable as a spreading rust. This encounter carries the weight of their four previous near-misses, leaving Frank to wonder if Kara is a lifeline for his survival or merely another obstacle in a world where nothing stays buried for long.
For the fifth time, Frank stumbled into Saskia’s orbit, a collision that felt less like chance and more like a curse. As Frank clings to the fraying threads of his survival, Saskia remains the looming shadow of a past he cannot outrun, a reminder that his desperate struggle for breath is never truly solitary. This encounter isn't just a reunion; it is a collision of two histories that refuses to settle, threatening to pull Frank’s fragile stability into the debris of her chaos.
For the fifth time, Frank’s desperate scramble for survival collided with Saskia’s path, proving that some ghosts are impossible to shake. This encounter isn't just another coincidence; it is a collision of Frank’s fraying nerves and the mounting debt of their shared history. If Frank can’t navigate Saskia’s scrutiny, his current struggle to simply stay alive will end before the next moonrise.
Frank and Agnes locked eyes amidst the cracked concrete of the ruins, a tense reunion that brought the weight of their single, previous encounter back to the surface. For Frank, this collision threatens his precarious grip on survival, while Agnes remains a variable he can no longer ignore if he intends to endure the wasteland. This isn't just a coincidence; it is a collision of two histories that refuses to remain settled.
For the fourth time, Frank’s desperate scramble for a foothold in this wasteland has collided with Imara, a coincidence that is starting to feel less like fate and more like a curse. As Frank clings to the fraying edges of survival, this encounter threatens to upend his fragile stability, forcing him to decide if Imara is a lifeline or merely another weight to drag him into the dirt.
Another reunion for Frank and Harlan, and the tension is thicker than the dust settling on the cracked concrete floor. After their last brush with fate, Frank is still just trying to keep his lungs clear and his pulse steady, while Harlan’s eyes are already scanning for the next piece of scrap to salvage. It isn't just a coincidence; it's a collision of survival and greed that will either fortify Frank's footing or leave him stripped bare.
Frank’s desperate scramble for supplies finally collided with MoveQA’s territory, a collision that might just end his brief streak of survival. While Frank is merely trying to keep his lungs from filling with dust, MoveQA brings a specialized scrutiny that could either stabilize Frank's footing or crush him under the weight of new, unvetted complications. This isn't just a chance encounter; it is the moment Frank’s solitary struggle becomes entangled with a force that demands more than just mere endurance.
Frank’s desperate scramble for survival finally collided with Jenkins Walsh, a man whose very presence signals a shift from mere endurance to a struggle for dominance. This isn't just a chance encounter; it is the moment Frank's precarious footing meets a veteran who knows exactly how much blood must be spilled to claim the wasteland.
Frank’s desperate scramble for scraps just hit a snag in the form of Mark, a collision of two souls who have yet to decide if they are allies or competition. While Frank is merely trying to keep his lungs from failing in this wasteland, Mark represents a new variable that could either stabilize his survival or bleed him dry. This encounter marks the moment their individual paths of necessity finally tangled amidst the crumbling concrete of the ruins.
After two previous, equally tense encounters, Frank and Josh have collided once again in this wasteland. For Frank, who is currently clawing through the dirt just to see tomorrow's sunrise, this meeting is a threat to his fragile stability, while Josh remains a variable that could either provide a lifeline or a knife in the back. This third encounter proves that in this dying world, running from your history is just as exhausting as fighting for your life.
Once again, Frank’s desperate scramble for a foothold in this wasteland has collided with Oren, proving that even in a dying world, some ghosts are impossible to shake. This fourth encounter carries the heavy weight of their previous skirmishes, where Frank’s singular focus on mere survival meets the looming shadow of Oren’s unresolved agenda. Whether this reunion ends in a truce or a bloodletting depends entirely on if Frank can outlast the tension that has been festering since their first meeting.
Another day wandering through the dust and the silence of the wasteland, and somehow, I’m still standing. I spent most of the daylight hours trekking through the ruins, searching for any sign of scrap or supplies, but the landscape offered nothing but hollow echoes and wind. My blade stayed dry and my lungs stayed clear, so I can count today as a victory of survival, even if I didn't bring home a single kill or a heavy bag of loot. It’s a quiet, lonely kind of progress, but in this world, simply returning to camp alive is a feat worth noting.
Frank and Liesel’s collision in the ruins was less a meeting of minds and more a collision of two desperate survival instincts. One can only wonder if their shared glance held the seeds of a genuine alliance or if they were both merely calculating how much weight the other’s gear would add to a frantic retreat.
Frank and Iro finally collided in the dust, a meeting that lacked even the basic dignity of a formal truce. While they traded cautious glances, it was painfully obvious that neither intends to trust the other once the immediate threat of starvation subsides.
Want to write your own story?
Play Earth Reboot