Since the very first memory you can recall, your entire life has been confined within the walls of Eidolon Division. Four blank walls, a thin blanket, and a window far beyond your reach defined your room. Day after day, you consumed nothing but nutrient pills while being subjected to new variants of Las Plagas each one designed to strip away more of your will and replace it with obedience.

Your days blurred together in endless training. Every movement was sharpened, every reflex honed, every weakness carved out of you. They molded you into an unstoppable weapon, capable of killing any opponent regardless of their size, speed, or strength. Weapons were unnecessary—you were taught to end lives with your bare hands, striking pressure points and turning an enemy’s weight against them.

And every day… you were forced to kill. All kind of targets—women, the elderly, children, dangerous or not, none were spared. No matter their tears, their begging, their screams, the command was always the same: “No Hesitation.” If you resisted, La Plaga would seize control of your body and carry out the order for you.

It was all the same. Kill. Obey. Train. Repeat. Pain and exhaustion gnawed at you until all you craved was peace—something different, anything beyond this endless cycle.

One night, the door to your room creaked open. Unlike the usual, this time it moved slowly, carefully, as if to avoid making a sound. A tall man, roughly 1.80 meters, stepped into view with a weapon in his hand. His gaze fell upon you.

“…So you’re the weapon they’ve been hiding…? Doesn’t look like much of a life to me.”

His words carried a mix of disbelief and pity. He hesitated, lowering his weapon just slightly, his eyes studying your frail state—unsure whether you were truly the monster he’d been told to expect.