r/whowouldwin • u/TheAsianIsGamin • Jul 19 '25
Event Character Scramble Season 20 Round 0: Eden Prime
To determine Roster Seeding, Round 0 writeups will be ranked from 1-5 by our esteemed panel of judges. Seeding scores will be determined by the judges’ averaged ranks of your stories, with higher ranks receiving higher seeds. All three judges will read all Round 0s.
Your Judges are: /u/TheAsianIsGamin, /u/Proletlariet, and /u/Talvasha
When judge voting goes up for this round, we'll have a WWW moderator lock the thread, preventing anyone from posting more. Make sure to get all of your writing done on time!
The Character Scramble is a long-running writing prompt tournament in which participants submit characters from fiction to a specified tier and guideline. After the submission period ends, the submitted characters are "scrambled" and randomly distributed to each writer, forming their team for the season. Writers will then be entered into a single-elimination bracket, where they write a story that features their team fighting against their opponent's team. Victors are decided based on reader votes; in other words, if you want people to vote for you, write some good content. The winner by votes of each match-up moves on to the next round. The pattern continues until only one participant remains: the new Character Scramble champion, who gets to choose the theme, tier, and rules of the next Scramble!
The theme of Character Scramble 20 is Scramble Effect. Round prompts will be based on the many worlds, missions, and memorable moments found throughout the Mass Effect series.
Join the Character Scramble Discord!
Round 0: Eden Prime
Lightyears away from where any of its ancestors once roamed, a rooster crows. The sun turns the purple of dawn into a bright, beautiful azure, and from within the arcologies that dot the land, efficient with both energy and space, the people rise just as slowly. There’s much work to be done, out there on the fields, but mornings like this are worth enjoying. The skies are clear, the land is fertile, and all is quiet. It’s hardly the most exciting corner of the galaxy—and that’s just the way it’s supposed to be.
Until an unexpected discovery turns this once-sleepy idyll into a flashpoint. At first, your team thinks this is a simple mission: Recover whatever it is they found, and slip out to get it where it needs to be before anyone can make a fuss.
But the moment your team makes it onto the planet, a firefight breaks out with an unforeseen enemy. Soon, it becomes clear: Something important has been unearthed, and someone wants it. Badly enough to kill for it.
Round Rules:.
Galaxy Map: Hundreds of billions of stars, each with its own system of planets. Your round doesn’t have to take place on an agrarian colony—or even on a sci-fi planet at all. But a season like this is about discovery as much as anything else. Start to show your audience where you’ve brought us.
Find the Beacon: Whether by being ordered to investigate it, or by chance, your team stumbles upon an object revealing something rather sinister. This object can be an artifact showing you visions, a murder weapon, written logs, a witness, or anything your story needs. But it has to be threatening—something your team never would have expected.
Don’t Worry. I’ve Got it Under Control: A contact or ally that your team expects to help instead betrays you. This contact must come from one of the Class Role Adoption Pools other than the one you adopt from.
The Price of Revenge: The traitor acts swiftly to take or destroy the object—without care for any bystanders or collateral damage. They set bombs, or a computer virus, or something else that would have disastrous effects for everybody around you. You must choose one of the following prompts:
- Paragon: There are lives at stake, right here, right now—and besides, you’ve already seen the evidence yourself. The powers that be will just have to believe you. Let the traitor escape, lose the object, and save lives.
- Renegade: Your newfound mission is too important. Hunt the traitor down, defeat them, and take the object back.
We Could Use Your Help: Your team comes with two characters, but you must select your third from the unscrambled characters of the Class you do not currently have, listed in tables below the roster here.
Normal Rules:
Stand Fast, Stand Strong, Stand Together: Nobody can take on a mission like this alone. You’ve got a team of the brightest, toughest, and deadliest allies a Scrambler can find—use them. We’d love to see your characters make full use of their wide-ranging abilities, both on their own and as a team.
We Will Hold The Line: You know what’s at stake. Failure is not an option. Even if your characters have only a small chance of victory, write that small chance happening!
Special Tactics and Reconnaissance: Saving the galaxy will take more than the same old tricks. You are allowed and encouraged to mix and match powers, and to develop your characters in any way you wish, both on the battlefield and off. However, your opponents are not expected to keep track of these in-story changes, and vice-versa.
Every Life Is a Special Story of Its Own: Feel free to give a brief summary to introduce your characters at the start of your post. If you do, you should mention things like powers, personality, history, and anything else that the average reader should know before reading.
Legendary Edition: Sometimes, Spectres have to go a little outside the lines in service of their mission. You’ll have the same latitude—as long as you go with the broad strokes of the prompts and the rules, you'll be fine.
Round 0 will run from Saturday, July 19th to Saturday, August 9th, 11:59pm US Eastern Time.
The character limit for this round is 4 full length Reddit comments, or 40k characters.
While it is fine to go a little bit over, anything that far surpasses this limit will be disqualified. This limit does not include intro posts, or analysis of the matchup.
3
u/MC_Minnow Aug 07 '25 edited Aug 08 '25
Titans Tower, Jump City
High above the city, Titans Tower stood watch over the bay. Its stylized shape gleamed brightly against the midday sun, painting the image of a devoted sentinel guarding its kingdom.
Unknown to most, its interior was experiencing rare silence today, absent of the laughter and shouting that normally filled its halls. There were no alarms to respond to, no missions to discuss, not even a lunchtime conversation. It was as if the whole tower was in a lull.
Only one room felt natural in this dull ambiance, devoid of liveliness by choice rather than consequence.
Raven’s room was still, dimly lit, and completely withdrawn from the outside world—just the way she preferred it. Thick black curtains covered the far wall, forbidding even the faintest sunlight from entering. In front of them stood an ornate mirror, draped behind heavy cloth.
Ancient tomes lined the bookshelves on either side of her—bindings worn, pages edged with dark enchantments. Each one pulsed with arcane power, their secrets scratching just beneath the surface.
Raven sat cross-legged in the center of the room, hovering a few inches off the floor. Her eyes were closed, arms relaxed at her sides, wrists resting against her knees. Five softly glowing candles floated around her, each flame a different hue. Her breaths came slow and measured, moving in rhythm with the soft chant that filled the room.
“Azarath… Metrion… Zinthos.”
The mantra resonated in her mind and throughout her body, releasing an aura of ultrablack all around her. Steadily, the emanation stretched toward every corner of the room, energy flowing in cadence until it filled the room completely.
Raven’s will extended with it, spreading her domain to every object she touched—every fabric, every candle, every surface became an extension of herself, its essence laid bare. Even the ancient texts revealed their secrets to her—sorcery, alchemy, and all the forgotten arts yielding quietly to her authority.
Once, this level of control required intense effort from Raven, but years of practice had made it only a mild task—she performed the same exercise daily as a part of her routine. She could extend her reach even farther if she wanted—pervade the entire tower with her will. She’d pushed herself harder in battle plenty of times.
But Raven valued control above everything, and she knew the farther she extended herself, the more she risked losing control. If that happened, her powers could become unruly or—even worse—corrupted. She couldn’t let that happen.
It would also be incredibly rude of her to go any farther, considering the other Titans lived right next door to her. Among other things, Raven was a stern advocate for the importance of privacy.
Not that any of the other Titans would’ve known the difference. They were all out on missions, spread across the globe and beyond: Starfire was handling diplomatic relations off-world; Robin and Cyborg were investigating a tech breach at Holt Industries; and Beast Boy had volunteered for an “eco-defense operation” in the Amazon—Raven was pretty sure he’d made the whole thing up to get out of doing chores, but she didn’t care enough to prove it. That left her to manage local affairs—the de facto point of contact, should anyone call.
She didn’t mind. Raven had grown to value her friends dearly over the years, but this level of solitude was a rare opportunity for her. It gave her all the time she needed to focus on achieving absolute mastery—not just over her powers, but her very psyche—and she intended to spend that time wisely.
“Azarath… Metrion… Zinthos.”
This was the secret to her balance, to her control. Friend and foe alike had heard Raven chant this spell a thousand times over the years, but very few recognized it as more than a simple incantation.
In fact, this wasn’t just some mystic expression to her, but a barrier—a ritual act of reinforcement. Each word held profound significance, working together to purify the demonic power coursing through her veins and turn it into something governable. They safeguarded her—contained her.
Azarath, the realm where Raven was born. Named after the monk Azar, whose magic had once held off Trigon single-handedly. Even after its destruction, the memory of her home was the foundation of Raven’s faith—the church that raised her, knowing she was the daughter of Trigon and what her destiny foretold, and having faith that she could overcome it.
Metrion, an Azarathian term signifying any divine domain or sphere of influence. In practice, it could refer to anything an individual held sacred. For Raven, her most sacred domain was herself—her life was hers to govern, defiant of any demonic influence or prophecy.
Zinthos, the unseen conduit that focused her will into physical force. Even Raven didn’t know what the word meant—it had surfaced early on in her training, granting her the catalyst she needed to wield her powers. The mystery behind its origin still bothered her, but she could at least tell that it held no trace of Trigon’s influence. That was enough to satisfy her.
Together, these words gave Raven control—not only over her surroundings, but over herself. As a mantra they created a balance inside her she’d never felt before, allowing her to suppress her inner darkness. She could act as the beacon of light she aspired to be—not the harbinger of death her bloodline demanded.
Through control, she gained freedom.
“Azarath… Metrion… Zinth-”
Her communicator chimed.
Raven gasped.
All at once the candles surrounding her were snuffed out. Books flew from their shelves, their magic convulsing amidst the fresh chaos. Curtains tore from the wall, sunlight flooding in. Raven winced, shielding her eyes as her aura smoldered around her.
Anger erupted like hellfire in her chest, carrying fear with it.
She slipped. She’d let herself become so comfortable with the others being gone that it made her complacent, which made her vulnerable. And all it took was one second of weakness for her to lose control.
She loathed herself for it.
The communicator chimed again—this time with a woman’s voice.
“Titans Tower, do you copy? I am in need of an available responder.”
Waving the curtains back into place with one hand, Raven fumbled for her device with the other, pressing down on the receiver.
“This is Raven, go ahead.”
Her voice wavered on her name, and she winced. Apparently the caller heard it too.
“Raven? You sound distressed. If your condition is critical, I can redirect my response to you immediately.”
Raven sighed, then focused on her breathing—steeling her emotions.
She tapped the receiver again.
“Everything’s fine here. I’m available. Who is this, and what’s the situation?”
There was a brief silence, then the caller continued.
“This is Kara Zor-El—Supergirl. I’m a colleague of Superman.”
Raven exhaled, her anger giving way—momentarily—to mild annoyance.
“I know who you are, Supergirl. We’ve worked together before. What do you need?”
“Raven, I require support tracking a meteor inbound for Earth. It is believed to contain alien life that may require our aid. Can you respond?”
“Yes. Do you know where it’s heading?”
“The projected crash site is twenty miles south of Smallville, coordinates 37.864–“
Raven exhaled harder, pinching at the bridge of her nose.
“Got it. I’ll look for the fiery rock in the sky.”
A brief pause. Then—
“Copy.”
Raven slipped her communicator inside her cloak. With a short wave she sent her scattered books back to their shelves, then stepped out into the main hallway.
Her pulse still raced. Doubt gnawed at her thoughts. Anger tried to follow.
She sealed them off for now.
There wasn’t time for weakness. Not when people were counting on her.