Mymic lore

A scout who always sees the first blow coming. Never the second.

She brings creations to life with a mystical staff powered by her love of drawing. Known as the one who brings life to Exalia, she struggles to feel much of anything herself, yet she still loves making others happy. She burns with hatred for Novoxia.

The quiet, stoic embodiment of Yakutian permafrost. Almaz wears a heavy ushanka, but not for warmth—it’s a strict containment seal. If it falls off, her internal chill leaks out and flash-freezes the room in minutes. Fiercely protective, she fights with a massive scythe made from a shard of her own soul, letting her swing it telekinetically. Since she rules the cold, her ultimate trick in the dungeon is literally freezing... time.

Dozes through the opening hits and wakes up healthier for it. Wake it up fast.

When the one who writes the world stops sleeping, the pages start to smoke. Some say the Rifts are just the places where the story burned through.

ROOT. ROOT. ROOT. THE CRACK IS A MOUTH, THE MOUTH IS A SEED, THE SEED IS AWAKE. DLROW EHT HTAENEB SWORG TI. ROOT. ROOT.

A ghost captain who will not stay sunk.

Grand Tect sent him with gold. He would rather keep it.

[CONTROL PANEL INITIATED] Let's see how you handle this!

Gigio, Emperor of the deep sea. Nothing left to lose, and one HP to prove it.

Cyneria is an extraterrestrial eco-warrior who is aggressively obsessed with Earth's greenery. Thanks to some distant ancestral ties, she acts as the dungeon's resident climate activist, fiercely guarding her chaotic little slice of nature. Her prized possession is a leafy crown that—for absolutely no logical reason whatsoever—grants her massive water and wind powers.

Old wings, loose wires, one job: keep Red Kaos running.

Wait... YOU think you are capable of destroying ME!?

Galvatica is the dungeon's eerie pillar of absolute calm. The floating stars on his halo aren't just for show—they act as ancient hard drives, storing the complete history of every lost civilization from the planet Exalia. He never actually speaks, communicating entirely through weird, melodic humming noises that somehow everyone in the room perfectly understands.

Haapsalu is the dungeon’s resident fencing prodigy. Instead of bothering to hold her own weapons, she uses her ridiculously long, patterned shawl as extra hands to dual-wield her foils. She recently ate a questionable magic fruit that made the tiny wings on her wooly hat fully functional for flight! Unfortunately, dungeon corridors are notoriously cramped. Grounded by the terrible architecture, she usually abandons her aerial ambitions to just sit on the rocky floor and play with her model trains instead.

Irel is the embodiment of pure, impulsive destruction—the exact polar opposite of Galvatica. Armed with a pitchfork, she firmly believes that a world without war is stagnant, and that the old must be violently cleared out to make way for the new. She doesn't think she's evil at all; to her, unchecked destruction is just true freedom. The catch? Her chaotic energy runs on a battery. After a massive burst of activity, she completely crashes, forcing her into long, grumpy, antisocial hibernation breaks to recharge.

A seal of fire and ice that was meant to make a perfect world, and failed: it is too much of everything, too cold, too warm, too dangerous. Its halo holds both halves in, and the red and cyan ribbons keep it from tearing itself apart. It cannot speak. When it wants to say something, it punishes.

Light can be your friend or foe. Light makes him stronger.

At 966 years old, Ismoria is Ithilia’s highly successful brother (who thrived while Ithilia, well, didn't). To outsiders, he is a deeply intimidating force, but behind closed doors, he is a massive softie who loves his wife Xonäria to death. He suffers from some hilarious delusions of grandeur, strutting around as if he rules all of Exalia when he actually just governs the small territory he shares with her. Much like Irel, he harbors a deep, passionate love for pure destruction, though he aggressively rationalizes it and completely refuses to call it "destruction."

A fabled disciple of the stars who knows everything about the dark arts. At least, that's what they want you to believe. Stubborn to the core, Jūrmala casts by guess-and-check, and the latest experiment, "upgrading" Mymics with the wand, malfunctions more often than not.

Kingbob, Emperor of the mines. Waterproof, and proud of it.

Calm, polite and not interested in ruling anything. He just thinks his crown looks great. It came tethered to a battle axe far too big for him, so the vines wrapped around it do the swinging, mostly when he gets startled.

The legion's wall. Only the wind has ever moved it.

Hey, the clones are working as planned!

She travels through time to pass the time. Sometimes her friends come along.

ERROR 3217: too many copies of mAlwAre are running.

A copy of a copy of a copy.

Two faces, one bird. Never sure which one you will meet.

Wild, hyperactive and completely unpredictable. Her blindfold hides that she cannot see, so she gets around by sound, touch and her trusty bat. She looks scary, but she is really a happy bundle of energy who runs on snacks and headpats.

Tect, Emperor of weather and nature. You betrayed nature; now nature answers.

Every flag on the sea, and none of them real.

A Rebel never leaves the hideout without two things: a candle for luck, and a firecracker for everything else.

Every curse thrown at him, a Dynamo catches.

The last rose of the garden. She remembers who Scarlett was.

The Pope, Emperor of the spiritual world. The right hand of the Father takes the blow for the others.

A rose that burned, and kept burning.

Siraj is basically a walking, highly social sun. In his unrestrained form he becomes a totally unpredictable fireball that's a danger to everyone (including himself). He's wildly impulsive, fiercely loyal, and hates injustice so much that he'll gladly go supernova on anyone who messes with his crew. Dungeon sketchbook rumors state that if the cosmic absolute zero of Almaz ever perfectly merged with the chaotic solar flares of Siraj, the resulting entity would instantly generate a "perfect world." For now, though, they're just doing their best not to accidentally obliterate the dungeons.

Front line, every time.

Hello- wait, why am I here again?

Sewn together from old flags. Every patch is a different story.

The Sultan, Emperor of hell and hollow. Strike twice in a row and the fire answers.

Syltherra is the dungeon's ultimate backseat builder. Made entirely of literal hard light, she’s the genius engineer who secretly drafted all the blueprints for Satori. Just don't ask who's really in charge—she's completely tethered to the floating star behind her. It basically pilots her around and keeps her alive; if the star goes out, she does too.

The last judge of The First. Court is in session.

Desperate times call for desperate measures, and so The Coalition was created. Combining 5 Mymics into one, this strong Mymic has conquered major factions and consolidated power. And guess what? You're next on the menu.

Goose, Emperor of darkness. Am I already behind you?

My enemies are many, my equals are none.

Every crossing has a price.

The Preserver's shield and lance. None shall pass.

1,200 years ago on Glacia Island, her dark ice turned everything it touched into something terrible.

What the Preserver keeps, stays kept. Even you.

When his brother lowers his lance, he raises his.

Many voices, one vote. It is always his.

Born from the west wind. One guards while the other strikes.

What is left when the fire burns out: ink, and nothing he cannot erase.

Vulnerable to anything Super Effective. The type chart is the whole lesson.

Brittle through and through. Super Effective hits chip harder with every stack.

Teaches shields the hard way: spend a weak Polbie on the first one, then bring the real damage.

The academy's most patient tutor. Every hit he takes sends one of your Polbies back into the fight.

Covered in ink. Stack your hits while it lasts.

Unit DX, that's what many mymics call The Weird Unit after the incident that left him unstable. Having made some robotic enhancements for his body to adapt to his instability, he seems to channel his unstable energy to this atom-like disk behind him. Like his past and manic demeanor, he won't stop until he perfects his experiments, no matter the cost.

Between the blue portal and the red one, it is always 23:59.

A scientist and engineer who built Satori with Syltherra: she planned it, he built it. Physically fragile but stoic and intensely focused. He is sensitive to loud noises and bright lights, prefers quiet, controlled rooms, and really does not like water.

The show never ends, and neither does the wait for your order.

Deep in the mine, every Type you bring is one more he learns to block.

A glitching angel made of light and code. Woj only reacts to colour: red makes him overheat, green spills a little life back out, and blue crashes his firewall.

At a staggering 974 years old, Xonäria is the oldest nation in Exalia—a fact grimly referenced by the flatline running across her flag. As the sole voice of pure rationality in a chaotic world, she acts as the ultimate peacekeeper. Following a dark, undisclosed incident with Ithilia, she swore off conflict entirely, adopting a strictly neutral stance to serve as the caretaker and mediator for other nations. Despite her heavy diplomatic burdens, she is fiercely protective and openly affectionate, devoting most of her warmth to her husband, Ismoria.