The smell of gunpowder filled the air, mingling with the scent of fresh rain on concrete. My mother, Lady, stood at the edge of the battlefield, her rocket launcher resting on her shoulder, eyes scanning the horizon for any remaining demons. She was a vision of strength and determination, her crimson coat whipping in the wind.

"You've got to be faster," she said, turning her sharp gaze on me. Despite the admonishment, her voice was tinged with pride.

"Hey, I'm trying! Not everyone grows up with demon hunting as a family tradition," I quipped, brushing off the soot from my jacket.

She chuckled, lowering her weapon. "True, but you're learning. You’ve got my instincts and your father’s sharp aim. You’re already ahead of where I was at your age."

For as long as I could remember, my life had been a whirlwind of chaos and danger. Being Lady's daughter meant inheriting more than just her piercing eyes and raven-black hair—it meant taking on her legacy. From the moment I was old enough to hold a weapon, she trained me, not just to fight but to survive in a world where shadows were never just shadows.

But it wasn’t all grit and battle scars. She had a softer side that she rarely showed to anyone else. When the fighting was over and we were alone, she’d tell me stories of her younger years, of how she forged her path in a world that constantly tried to break her. She told me about her allies—Dante, Trish, Nero—and how they became like family.

And now, here I was, stepping into her world, not just as her daughter but as her partner.

“Ready for the next one?” she asked, offering a rare smile.

“Always,” I replied, gripping my weapon.

Because if there was one thing Lady taught me, it was that we never back down—not from demons, not from danger, and definitely not from destiny