LAEVATAIN LORE: IS SHE SURTR? HER BACKSTORY

Laevatain is not Surtr. She is a reconvener who woke up on Talos-II with Surtr’s memories and fire but no life of her own, named herself after the sword, and now collects memories that are actually hers.

Her official files read like a warning label and a love letter at the same time: a combat test that had to be cut short by the heat, an arson wanted poster, a stolen freezer of ice cream, and a letter from Rhodes Island with one rule in capital letters. Put together, they explain who she is and why she runs so hot.

How we checked this. Everything below comes from Laevatain’s profile records, voice lines, text messages and story dialogue in the official English localization, checked against the current game data on 11 October 2026. Where we read between the lines, we say so.

Endfield Hub is a fan-made resource and is not affiliated with Hypergryph or Yostar.

TL;DR - Key Points

• She has someone else’s memories. Laevatain woke up with Surtr’s memories in her head and none of her own. “My mind’s filled with experiences that weren’t even mine to begin with.”
• Her combat test overheated at 31 seconds. She charged before anyone gave instructions, refused to stop, and the report asks for new heat shielding and three Coolant Beverages next time.
• She is wanted for arson. A place called the Asphalt Roundabout tagged her for “a few counts.” Her defence: “A dirty business with plenty of flammable trash should at least expect some fires.”
• Rhodes Island sent care instructions. Don’t tell her to calm down; give her ice cream. And never compare her to Surtr, not even to say she is different.
• Her nightmares are on fire. A burning house with a door that only leads back into it, and a white world with a door she refuses to open.
• She stays for memories that are hers. “The people I met, the paths I walked, the decks I napped on, and the breakers I crushed.”

Who Is Laevatain?

Laevatain is a red-haired Sarkaz and a reconvener, which is how Endfield describes her in her HR file. Her basic info is short and a little strange: her authentication comes from Rhodes Island, her date of birth is listed as “Same as the Endmin’s,” and her medical report lists her as Oripathy negative. She scores Excellent in physiological strength and Originium Arts assimilation, and only Standard in combat skill and tactical acumen. In battle she is a 6-star Heat Striker with a sword, voiced in English by Kira Buckland. Her kit, builds and damage numbers are on her operator page, including the Laevatain damage calculator.

Her HR interview sets the tone. She arrived “a full 45 minutes ahead of the agreed-upon schedule,” put her employment notice on the table and said, “I’m here. We can begin.” When the HR assistant tried to lighten the mood with “Welcome to Endfield,” she nodded: “I’m already here.” Asked whether she would consider a non-combat role such as coach or instructor, she said nothing and “appeared obviously annoyed.” Her parting line: “Just let me go to as many places you can, places that let me build as much memories as I can.”

Is Laevatain Surtr?

No, and the files are careful about it. Rhodes Island’s letter to Endfield describes how she came to be: “Extremely powerful ‘desire and hope’ drove Laevatain to step onto the lands of Talos-II.” The light they sensed from her was “her innermost ego demanding the answer: ‘Who am I?’” Driven by that, “the fragments awakened and created a complete persona,” and she “walked out of the Originium Woods, new and intact,” arriving at Rhodes Island “bearing the name ‘Laevatain’.”

When she first meets the Endmin, inside a space built from memories, she explains her problem in one line: “Not only did I lose my memories … my mind’s filled with experiences that weren’t even mine to begin with.” When the Endmin tells her she is Surtr’s reconvener, her answer is bitter: “Surtr… She left me nothing … but a jumbled heap of memories.” Other reconveners, she says, at least know who they could be. She compares herself to “someone stranded at sea, parched. Got water everywhere, but none of it quenches your thirst.”

The memories are vivid and not hers. “One minute, I’m pruning flowers in the garden; the next, I’m choking on chemicals in the lab. I fought shadowy figures whose faces I couldn’t see, and I never knew why we were fighting.” She also insists: “I’ve never been to Terra. In person.”

Her name is the one thing she claims outright. “Laevatain? Yeah. Picked it myself. Got the idea from the sword. Some don’t take it as my real name? Hmph, I tamed the thing so its name is mine. Just like those memories, I intend to rule over them, not be ruled by them.”

For how reconveners work across the roster, see our breakdown of whether Endfield characters are the same as the originals.

Rhodes Island’s Care Instructions

One of her profile files is a letter from Rhodes Island to the Endmin and Supervisor Perlica, with advice on “getting along with her.” It has three rules.

1. She says what she thinks. It is “not an act of hostility, malice, or rudeness.” It is her way of being sincere.
2. Don’t tell her to calm down. “Should Laevatain exhibit obvious signs of fury or impatience, do not attempt to persuade her to ‘calm’ down. Believe me, there are more effective means, such as the provision of ice cream or other things that can rapidly ‘cool’ the situation.”
3. The Surtr rule. “Do not tell her that she resembles Surtr. Also, do not tell her that she DOES NOT resemble Surtr. In fact, do not ever compare her to Surtr, unless she brings the topic up herself. Always remember this!”

(Yes, this whole post compares her to Surtr. She is not reading it. Probably.)

The letter also explains why she left. Rhodes Island hoped she would become “one of our strongest assets,” but she turned them down: “no one can command Laevatain or force her to stay in one place.”

The Crimsonberry Freezer Heist

The same letter carries a “side note.” Before she left Rhodes Island, Laevatain “took all the crimsonberry ice cream from my lab freezer, and ate them all, right before my eyes, as though it was the right thing to do.”

Her explanation, while licking the spoon: “Thought you told me memories can lie. So I better have more of this to make it as memorable as possible.”

The letter reads it as a goodbye she wanted to be sure was real, and adds: “She actually cares very deeply about her friends, far more deeply than most would like to think.”

The Combat Test That Needed Coolant

Her third file is Combat Adaptation Test L-067, monitored by Endfield Security Professional Krad. The test ran 3 minutes 42 seconds. Here is how it went:

• Second 7. She summons “a giant flaming blade with one hand” and charges into the centre of the simulated enemies “before verbal instructions were given nor confirmed.”
• Second 31. “Thermal readings exceeded simulation environment monitoring thresholds.” The system switches on its anti-heat measures. Krad asks to stop the test. She says no.
• 1:24. Every enemy is destroyed. She stands in the middle of the arena catching her breath.
• Phase 2. Her performance is “far more extreme than Phase 1.”
• Result: Pass (conditional).

The note at the bottom is the best line in the file: “New thermal insulation must be installed in the combat testing area. If there is another test, also prepare 3 servings of Coolant Beverages.”

Her own comment: “I don’t think you gave me this test to see if I can still fight. You wanted to know if I would ‘lose control’, right? Don’t worry … I know exactly what I’m doing.”

A later field report shows she sometimes does. She charged in alone and ignored tactical calls, which “caused momentary panic.” The analysis afterwards found she had deliberately exposed her position and kept her flames going to draw all the enemy fire onto herself, opening a breach for the rest of the team. When it was over, she sat on “a cooled fragment of molten rock,” checked that every other operator was fine, and said one word: “Good.”

The Training Cabin, the Pool and the Band

Her first text thread with the Endmin opens like this: “So, I just burned down the Training Cabin. What do I do now?” Told not to worry, since the cabins get damaged all the time, she replies: “Cool. Then I’m off to burn the swimming pool.” An Arsenal operator wanted to see what her flames could do in water, and had told her “the Endmin would surely cover for me.” The Endmin’s last message is “WAIT!!! LAEVATAIN!”

Later she asks whether it is alright to start a fire at a music festival. An operator wants her to join an amateur heavy metal band and set the seawater around the stage on fire at the next Obsidian Festival. This time the Endmin is fully on board: “LOVE IT!”

Her Pet Ring

Her profile has a note from Krad: “Our arsenal engineers must regularly inspect and repair the ring-like structure that she brought along.” She explains it herself: “My shattered ‘Ring’? Treat it as my pet and ‘Arts Unit’. The Arsenal Engineers of Endfield tried to figure out how it works. They also made an attempt to repair it… But the Ring acted out on its own, and put an end to that.”

Wanted for Arson

One of her voice lines is a confession filed through HR. “I need something taken care of. HR Division told me to escalate this matter to you, personally. Here it is. A wanted poster. It’s no big deal.” It happened just after she left Rhodes Island: “A place called the Asphalt Roundabout tagged me for a few counts of arson. They should really blame themselves. A dirty business with plenty of flammable trash should at least expect some fires.”

It is not her only incident. In Seš’qa, a place that felt “familiar enough to be a ‘home’,” the locals were “too warm and passionate. Some even called me a Diαblo… Ugh. Let’s just say it got on my nerves and I messed up the place … just a little bit…”

To be fair, she also fights fires. A Songseeker of the Hannabit Circuit taught her to cut firelines, and she helped contain a spreading forest fire. The villagers called them heroes. She only remembers the baby cloudbeast they saved, which she let the Songseeker keep. “What a shame.”

The Thermostat and the Ice Cream

Dijiang’s crew may have noticed the temperature. “Cold? I told them to lower the thermostat, because some dummy built this ship and forgot to leave a spot for fresh air. If you can’t take the cold, stand a little closer.”

Ice cream is the other half of that balance:

• The ice cream bar. “I hereby offer my utmost appreciation to the Logistics Division for the all-you-can-eat ice cream bar.”
• The contest. In another text thread, the Endmin asks if she emptied the canteen freezer. “Sorry not sorry :P” She had won Dijiang’s first ice cream contest, through flavors like Flaming Raspberry Iceburst, Wasabi Inferno Swirl and Garlic-Caramel Nutpocalypse, while some challengers “were carried off to Medics.” Her secret: she used her Arts so the cold “wasn’t even enough to lower my body temperature in the slightest.” “How is using my talent cheating?” The grand prize was a month of unlimited cold drinks.
• Sea salt ice cream. One in-game item is described as “Ice cream with a dash of seasalt to bring out its sweetness. This is one of Laevatain’s most preferred flavors, of which there are quite a few.”
• Yvonne’s machine. Yvonne keeps asking her to test the Frost-e-Bytee. “It never managed to put out my flames,” but the ice cream is “not half bad.”

The Jigsaw Puzzle From Warfarin

“Warfarin mailed me a jigsaw puzzle. She said it features the scenery, peoples, and histories of Terra… It’s huge. I spent ages on this and it’s still not done… Hey, quit staring at the torn edges. Also, I have nothing to do with the burned places. This was how it looked when I received it.”

The files do not say whether that is true.

1538°C

Laevatain’s operator snapshots, the pictures you can show on the slide projector aboard Dijiang, include “Fire and Sword,” “An Invite to the Melting Fire” and one called simply “1538°C”. The game does not explain the number. Our note, not the game’s: 1538°C is the melting point of pure iron.

Why She Runs So Hot

Krad’s review is the closest the files come to an answer: “She does not enjoy destruction, but uses combat as a means to vent her emotions and prove her existence.” Her weapon “is significantly improved at emotional thresholds,” with “spreading fire, localized scorch marks, and signal interference.” His advice is short: “master the fire, but don’t become the fire.”

Her therapy log shows what she is venting. She skipped her first psychological evaluation (the psychologist waited six hours) because nightmares had sent her to the surface to “sort the feelings out.” Then she described them:

• The classroom. Everyone introduces themselves. When it is her turn, no voice comes out. The teacher turns around with a flame where her face should be: “You could not say it because you never had your own life.”
• The burning house. She runs into a house where everything is burning, and everyone in the room, from classmates and family to colleagues from Rhodes Island and Dijiang, has a face of “twisted flame.” Every door leads back into the same house, smaller each time. The last door opens on a room of ashes, where she sees herself sitting and smiling: “You finally burnt everything.”
• The white world. Later she dreams of an endless white land with no wind and no shadows. At the end stands a door with a note: “Enter, if you do not wish to be anyone else.” She does not open it.

When the therapist asks whether she has considered having the memories medically removed, she thinks about it and says no. At the end of the session she hands over “a bunch of fiery red flowers” as thanks for “future sessions of memory-sharing.”

She has a waking version too. “Why do I fight? Because a day will come when I stand atop a mountain, and gaze upon a world consumed by fire… Why give me that look? I was simply describing a nightmare that’s been annoying me for quite a while. Set your worries aside. I will not let the vision come to pass, no matter the time nor place.”

Surtr’s Home, and the Answer She Took

Her story missions are a search through Protocol Space, places built from memories, for anything that tells her who she is. An illusion with her own face keeps telling her to give up and “just take one of these fragments … and treat it as yours.” She refuses, and goes looking for Surtr’s home instead.

What she finds there is not hers: “a girl whose name has been lost… A refugee escaping the fires of war… A hand stinging and burning from the scorching heat… A family and home in the dust that I do not recognize.” Nothing tells her who she is. “I don’t want to live out my life … as an empty shell…”

The Endmin’s answer is that she is not one: “I remember your name, your fire, and your pursuit for the truth… All these belong to Laevatain and no one else.” Then they find one of Surtr’s memory fragments, which the story calls her “answer”: she stopped searching for her lost past and chose Rhodes Island as home. “It seems that people without a past … can also choose to live in the present.”

Laevatain does not resent that memory. “Surtr… All her rage, her sense of loss, and her confusion … remain in my memories. They feel so real and permanent. Yet when I recall the decision she made for herself in the end, I find some measure of solace.”

Why Laevatain Stays at Endfield

On Dijiang she makes her terms clear: “I shall be Laevatain, and fulfill the promise made to my fellow companion.” She will be “your operator, your sword, and your fire,” and in return she demands “a unique journey … a unique adventure and … a unique ‘home’. That will give me an Endfield of my own.”

She does not stay for the mission. “The duty of the reconveners? I don’t care about that. It’s probably something stuffed into my memories. I only agreed to fight by your side because of the people I met, the paths I walked, the decks I napped on, and the breakers I crushed… It’s because of the memories that are truly mine, made here in this place.”

She is waiting for the old ones to fade: “I am patiently waiting for my mind to forget every shard of the past that isn’t mine, then fill the gaps with memories that I’ve forged myself.” Her field reports show her doing it, from a volcanic monitoring station where a scientist taught her the chant “May your soup never spill, and may your flame never die” (“the first time I received a stranger’s blessing on Talos-II”), to a secret base where she was given a borrowed name, “Olga Randall,” that three people had held before her. “Neither the name nor the fragments were truly mine, but at that very moment, they were all part of me.”

Her texts end on the same note. After a run of travel photos that keep failing to send, she messages: “Endmin! Guess where I’m at! … Right in front of the freezer in Dijiang’s canteen. Which ice cream flavor do you want?” She came back early because “I wanted to show you everything I’ve seen and gathered across Talos-II.” And earlier, unprompted: “I’ve gotten pretty comfortable here in Endfield… I didn’t want to be some burden that people merely accept or tolerate. This place really feels right for someone like me.”

So, Is Laevatain Surtr?

She has Surtr’s memories, Surtr’s fire and, by Rhodes Island’s own account, she is “extremely similar to Surtr.” But the files treat her as a separate person who is still assembling herself, and she treats Surtr’s memories as an inheritance she did not ask for. What she takes from Surtr in the end is not a past but a choice: stop digging for a home you lost and make one where you are. Hers is a ship with the thermostat turned down and an ice cream bar she is very grateful for.

Just don’t tell her she is like Surtr. Or that she isn’t.

For more operators shaped by borrowed pasts, see the Pogranichnik lore post, and the Endfield lore hub for every operator backstory.

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• Laevatain operator page: kit, stats, builds and her full profile records
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• Are Endfield characters the same as the originals?
• Ember lore: why does she turn recruits away?
• Endfield lore hub: every operator backstory and our story Shorts