SPECTRE | BLACK VELLUM DOSSIER
Motto: "Ex Umbra, Imperium" – From the Shadows, Power
SPECTRE Soldiers
They don't march. They haunt. Faces hidden behind mirrored visors, voices filtered to a mechanical growl—SPECTRE soldiers are bred for shock and slaughter. No insignia. No mercy. When they breach the dark, it's already too late.
SPECTRE Knightmares
Born from stolen Britannian war tech and rebuilt in the black labs beneath Prague, these aren't mechs. They're predators. Whisper-quiet thrusters, retractable monofilament blades, optic scramblers. One minute, a skyline. The next—just silence and falling glass.
SPECTRE Bodyguards
They're not bodyguards. They're human kill switches. Standing motionless beside Blofeld, masked in ritual black, they radiate a stillness so unnatural it hurts to look at them. They don't protect. They warn.
Crimson Phantoms
They shake hands with presidents at noon and slit throats in alleys by midnight. Trained in zero-emotion execution, fluent in twelve languages, invisible to every database. They are SPECTRE's scalpel—cutting empires at the root.
Blofeld's Knightmare – NOX DOMINUS
It doesn't walk—it looms. Draped in blood-dark alloy, and wrapped in reactive stealth tech, Nox Dominus is a mobile throne of annihilation. Controlled directly through Blofeld's neural interface, the machine doesn't just respond—it obeys his will. Where it treads, the sky dims. Radios die. People pray.