The Voltylun is a middling house at best within Belisoan history. Not being apart of the original founding families, and gaining status a generation or two later. While their history began in military, they shifted to more mercantile efforts in aiding the expansion of the nation. Their wealth comes from land dealings within the countries borders, though often a son or daughter would enlist each generation. Loretta is one such daughter; her father being one such knight before her. From childhood her head was filled with his fantastic stories, and tales of their families pride. Despite her different interests, Loretta always knew she'd grow to become a true and proud knight of Belisio,

However things are never so simple. Before adolescence she would become afflicted with a degenerative condition. Affecting her breathing, and the function of her legs. This of course did not dissuade someone like Loretta however. If anything, her passion for studying the arts of Ki grew tenfold. Mastering her body, she would be able to do anything she wanted, even if it were harder for her than others.

She would experience another blow however when she learned definitively she was unable to learn Ki. Being born a mage, it was an impossibility. Not only this, but she would be unable to strengthen herself as she hoped. For some years she fell into a depression, locked away in one of the family estates, only allowing attendants and nurses to keep her company.

She would emerge later; ready to finally accept the surgeries her family had presses upon her, only when she could stand on her own two feet again. Having spent all her time studying the use of mana, she developed a way of creating basic constructs. At first brace-like instruments around her legs, then full armor to keep herself rigid.

After a stressful recovery period she was able to function as a self-sufficient individual, and began proper schooling for the use of magic. Continuing to excel in her creation of rigid structures, she graduated from her program with flying colors, and continued her schooling through the military program. Joining the ranks of the Battlemages to prove her family proud, and accomplish some semblance of her childhood dreams. If she could not be a knight, she would compete with them. And nothing could stop her.

Turzo Drunoda (pronounced Droon-O-da) was born as the 4th child of the Drunoda house. This house was seen as nobility within the empire with the head of the house being the emperor’s Justicar. This position was the highest judge in the empire that worked directly below the Emperor in terms of chain of command. The houses primary job was to execute any and all orders and laws given by the emperor and the council of nobles and settle any legal disputes that the local courts can’t do themselves.

To say that his upbringing was rough just depends on your point of view. He didn’t have to struggle to get food or worry about money but the rigors of growing up in a noble house came with its own difficulties. Testing to be a mage was at the forefront of anything else, then came rigorous training and indoctrination that began at an early age regardless of who they were.

Once he was found out to be a mage he was almost immediately taken away to begin his training. Because of his position with his house the elders at the time wanted to perform a ritual to attempt to use natural and artificial means to increase the mana that one can use. The ritual took nearly a month to complete from training, to meditating, to eating strange herbs, having experimental drugs and technology being used on him, and being exposed to strange magic and chants. The ritual finished with tattoo’s engraved in his skin with magic and him being near constantly exposed to it for a full day. It almost killed him and left him in agony through the process.

The recovery period was several months and after the elders in charge decided to shelve the experiment for future use because of the absurd cost of materials and an unknown result. After his recover and subsequent training it was found that his ability to use higher amounts of mana were successful but unrefined and otherwise nearly uncontrollable. The best he could do at the time was point it in a general direction and hope for the best.

With the new found abilities and the completion of his training he was immediately sent to the front lines. The empire was an expansionist one and more people and resources were always needed. It was also at this time that he took a vow of justice and to uphold the founding philosophy’s of the empire and what it represented to him. He was naïve.

He witnessed the perverted cruelty first hand that was the empire and it enraged him. The needless slaughter and atrocities committed by slave and mage alike towards the people that they were supposed to be annexing or freeing from their kingdoms. They were to him citizens of the empire and to see such wrought and destruction brought him to rage. A rage he did not now he had or could control, the ritual and the mana from it was effecting his ability to remain stoic and unmoving. Yet all that power he had only brought more destruction as the siege mage let loose his furry on his fellow soldiers and mages. Overwhelming their defenses with sheer might in an inferno that raged into the night.

He left after this and turned to the only kingdom that would take him, the Nation of Belisio. They were skeptical at first and still don’t trust him entirely, why would someone join the losing side if not to simply spy on them. Their suspicions were for a good reason after all. In return for his stay and working relationship with the nation he gave up any and all information he had on the empire as well as signing off any attempt at having a private life always to be under the watchful eye of the governing body.

So now he fights for them, with them. To defeat his former homeland and more than likely some of his family. To him justice must be met with justice but right now the only way he can see himself having any hope at snapping his beloved empire out of its blood drunk crusade is to fight against it. One day he does hope to return home and return to an empire that he may change for the better for everyone.

Experiment 970d-0322

Purpose: To gauge the viability of Spectre augmentation upon artificially created humanoids throughout various stages of development.

Method: Fusing stabilized samples of Dr. Jacques Mallard’s somatic cells with human oocytes after removal of the latter’s nucleus. Incubate successful fusions in artificial womb for nine-month gestation period. Rear in isolation with minimal human contact until designated procedure window (970d-series: onset of puberty). Observe physiological developments. Compare against control group (970a series).

Results: Of the five subjects within the 970d series, Subject 970d-0830 expired during gestation. Subject 970d-0301 expired at on-set of puberty. Subjects 970d-0213, 970d-1103, and 970d-0322 all underwent and survived Spectre procedures. Subject 970d-0213 showed unfavorable physiological defects shortly after. Terminated. Subject 970d-0322 displays unusual growth patterns, but otherwise within acceptable margins. Subject 970d-1103 showed minimal deviation from control group physiology.

Conclusions: High fatality rate pre-procedure across all 970 series as well as low success rate of procedure/high rate of terminal physiological changes post-procedure indicate poor viability of artificial humanoids as Spectre candidates with current gestation practices. Recommendation: terminate non-combat ready subjects and proceed to field testing with remaining subjects. Postpone further series until further advancements can be completed on gestation practices.

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970d-0322 grew up just as all his brothers did - mostly alone in a small, sterile white room. The key word being mostly. As 970d-0322 was never truly alone. There was always somebody on the other side of the dark glass. Watching him. Observing him. He couldn’t see them, of course, but they were there. Always. In a way, it was comforting. Three times a day, the buzzer would go off, and that meant that it was time to do his Cow Lick Hensticks (calisthenics). Three more times a day, the light would go on, and that meant it was time to play the thinking games. And twice a day, when he was hungry, the door would open and someone in a puffy white suit would bring him his nutrient paste. 970d-0322 called them the bubblemen. To himself, of course. Never to the bubblemen. He wasn’t supposed to talk to the bubblemen. Ever. That was bad. And he didn’t want to be bad. When he was bad, the bubblemen wouldn’t show up again for a while. Only good boys got their nutrient paste. Good boys always did their Cow Lick Hensticks and played the thinking games whenever the light came on.

But one day, when it was time for the bubblemen to bring his nutrient paste, one spoke to him. 970d-0322 was scared, obviously. He didn’t know what to do. He wasn’t supposed to talk to the bubblemen - that was bad. But ignoring the bubblemen when they told him to play the mind games or do his Cow Lick Hensticks was also bad. This particular bubbleman was persistent though. They pulled out something that 970d-0322 had never seen before - a small, shiny rectangular object. And when they removed the shiny cover, he smelled something strange. Something different. The bubbleman offered it to him, and he took it. They told him to eat it. So he did. It was the first time he had had actual solid food. It was also the first time he had chocolate.

The strange bubbleman came to visit him again time and time again. And they told him all sorts of amazing stories about the word and brought all sorts of snacks and treats for him to try. One day, the bubbleman even took off their bubblehelmet. 970d-0322 couldn’t believe it - they looked just like him underneath it. Just bigger. And pretty. Whatever that meant.

The bubbleman told him that her name was Ms. Ami.

Ms. Ami Ohara.

Occasionally, Ms. Ami would bring her “daughter” Juno Ohara. Juno was small like him. But pretty. Like Ms. Ami. It was frustrating. But he very much liked it when Juno came to play. She was really nice. He didn’t quite understand what “nice” meant, but she let him know that “being nice” meant saying things that made the other person happy. Like calling her or Ms. Ami “pretty” was being nice.

Ms. Ami was the one who decided that 970d-0322 wasn’t a proper name for a little boy (that was what he was!). She decided that the “d” stood for “Duncan”. But when the boy tried to say the name, he misspoke. “Duck can.” he said. And when little Juno heard that, he was “Ducky” in her eyes from then on out.

Over the years, the Cow Lick Hensticks got harder. The mind games more tedious. But Ducky stuck with it. He did his very best. Because when he did good, he got to see Ms. Ami and Juno. And that made it worth it.

But all good things must come to an end, eventually. One day Ms. Ami and Juno stopped showing up. And that was that. The Cow Lick Hensticks got even harder. But he kept pushing himself. It was never enough though. No matter how well he did, it wasn’t good enough. He wasn’t good anymore. That’s why Ms. Ami went away. Because he was bad.

He was so bad that The Bad Thing happened. The bubblemen came and took him away one day. Away from the small white room. To a large white room. With knives. And the bubblemen cut him. And they took parts of him away. And put other things in. Ducky was asleep for most of it…but not all.

He was in pain for a while after that. It’s hard to tell how long though. It never went away, not truly, but it did become bearable. At least a little. Eventually, however, he was returned to the small white room. To his home. And while he was weak at first…eventually he became stronger. And smarter. The changes came suddenly and harshly. He was doing even more difficult calisthenics than before The Bad Thing, but it came easier. And when he played the mind games, it was as if the answers came flooding into him. Along with other things. Sights. Sounds. From behind the window. From the bubblemen. And eventually…thoughts.

It was intoxicating, these experiences. Even better than Ms. Ami’s stories. He could actually see and hear and feel all these new things. The bubblemen could tell. It made them happy. It made them scared. They called him a miracle of modern science. They called him a monster.

As months passed, Ducky grew. Both in body and in mind. And it was getting difficult to tell which was growing more. While his body began taking up more and more of his little white room, his mind expanded. He learned of the world beyond his walls. Of Belisio - sweet Belisio, the love of his life - for the first time as he peered in the minds of his scientists. It was strange, the moment he became aware of the very concept of Belisio, his nation, his country, his love, he knew in that instance he would do anything, absolutely anything, to protect her. He became obsessed. He had to better himself. For Belisio. Always Belisio.

It was shortly after this revelation that the scientists began having 970d-0322 leave the small white room. The same thing which terrified him to his very core as a child meant nothing now. It wasn’t his home. It wasn’t Belisio. He would train. With others very much like him. And he would learn. Of war. Of the _{disgusting, monsterous, evil} Mages. Of the _{foul wrong BAD} Vaim empire. They were taught everything they needed to know to terminate these Mages. They were given the means. Over years they would become the very tools that Belisio ^{sweet sweet Belisio, always Belisio, my life for Belisio} would use to defend herself and purge the world of evil.

And defend her they did. Exceedingly well. There were only a few of them - six in total - but the clones were incredibly efficient. For a time anyway. Subject 970d-1103, considered the perfect example of what the experiment was meant to produce, led the small band. But the clones were a flawed project based upon a flawed man. And it didn’t take long before this was apparent. One day, six clones left. And only one came back. 970d-0322.

The clone was interrogated relentlessly over the details of the mission, but he had nothing to share. Torture, mental probes, bribes…nothing. He remembered leaving for the mission and he remembered returning. The rest was blank. It was as if an entire section of his memory was just carved out. Which would sound absurd under normal circumstances, but it wasn’t out of the question that the psionic clones had turned rogue. Strange then that one would remain, but it was quite clear that the clone’s loyalty remained as firm as ever.

It wasn’t until recently that 970d-0322 found himself in the company of Liffis Kai. And something about the Holy Man sparked an old memory. A ghost in his head. Of the woman in the bubble suit, and her daughter. Ms. Ami and Juno. He had forgotten about them - hadn’t thought about either in years. At some point, thoughts of Belisio^{glory to Belisioprotect Belisio} had…what? Replaced them? It was odd. Strange. Unpleasant, even. He resented that feeling, resented the Holy Man for bringing it up. But at the same time, he desperately wanted to hold on to it. He didn’t want to forget again, even if he didn’t exactly know why. He was conflicted. Unsure now of his grand purpose.

He wasn’t Ducky, the little boy that spent his days being enraptured by the woman’s tales of the fantastical world outside, but to say that he was just 970d-0322, Belisio’s^{always Belisio} instrument of war…it didn’t feel right anymore either.

Thus, for better or worse, the conflicted soul became the man we know today. He would reach a compromise of sorts - protect Belisio^{die for her! kill for her!} and become good enough to see Ms. Ami and Juno again one day. Wherever they are.

There’s not much available on Juno Menarini’s early life. Born Junia “Juno” Ohara to Ami and Aiden Ohara, a pair of researchers working on a classified program in the 970’s. In 983, an accident claimed Ami Ohara’s life and left the girl horribly injured and disfigured. By all rights, she should have died the night she was brought to the hospital…but she didn’t. And three days later, the girl was walking around as if nothing had happened, barely a scratch on her.

It was equal parts baffling and frustrating. With her injuries, she should never have been able to walk again, but the girl displayed remarkable recovery on par with highly skilled ki practitioners. With no record of any notable ki users within the family and no obvious signs of training, the girl seemed every bit the prodigy. Word about the “immortal girl” quickly got out and began attracting attention - attention that proved to be too much for Aiden Ohara.

Facing intense scrutiny over the details surrounding the death of his wife, the man opted to take his own life. Any knowledge surrounding the event died with him, with the girl having not spoken of it since.

Aiden’s passing left the young Juno in the care of her sole remaining family member - her maternal grandmother. The elderly woman was in poor health, though, and it was clear that Juno would soon be on her own.

And then the Knight came. Demetrio Menarini. On the urging of his father, Pietro Menarini of Menarini Dynamic Industries fame, the Knight had come to meet with Juno and her grandmother. At the end of the meeting, Juno left with him, now a ward of the family Menarini and squire to Sir Demetrio. It’s unclear what sort of deal was made at the meeting, but that would be the last time Juno saw her grandmother alive.

The next chapter of the girl’s life would consist of the finest education Pietro’s money could buy and grueling training under Demetrio’s watch. And while she displayed tremendous innate mastery of her Ki, Juno had no passion for it, which stunted her growth. The troubled girl also began acting out. Getting into fights. Stealing. Developing a bit of a substance abuse problem. The flagrant squandering of her potential infuriated Demetrio to the point that he was ready to drop her, but his father insisted that he continue. He had plans for the girl.

And so Juno would develop into a painfully average knight, excelling in no particular area of combat. Were times different, it’s quite possible that she would have been turned away, rejected from the order, but desperation changed everything. Thus Juno was knighted, Demetrio slighted, and Pietro delighted.

Shortly after the passing of her trials, Juno was introduced to Pietro’s plan. Menarini Dynamic Industries was working on a highly experimental weapons platform and Juno was the ideal candidate to serve as its “pilot.”

See, it was a highly complex power armour that served as a host to a swarm of self-replicating nanomachines that, among other things, could rapidly repair the armour in the middle of battle. The issue, however, was that the nanomachines required a source of organic matter to act as fuel, which posed a number of logistical challenges. It was a frustrating limitation that the team could not seem to bypass in any satisfying capacity.

Now, the idea of potentially tapping into the regenerative capabilities of Ki-proficient pilots wasn’t anything new. In theory, so long as the pilot could maintain a regenerative rate above that of the nanomachine’s consumption, they could essentially fuel the armour in perpetuity. Testing, however, brought about some rather disappointing results. While on average pilots were capable of sustaining standard operational usage, many displayed moderate to severe trauma from extended operation. Furthermore, pilots were shown to be unable to match the rate of consumption required for repairing estimated standard combat damage while maintaining satisfactory operational capabilities. In short, it seemed like a dead end. The team would either need to develop a new type of nanomachine or find a more suitable fuel source. Many avenues were explored, but the project appeared to be unviable in its current state.

That is, until Junia entered the picture. The immortal girl, they were calling her. Miraculously survived certain death and then completely healed days later. If the reports were true, then she not only met the required minimum rates for all operational usage, she greatly exceeded them. She would be instrumental in salvaging the project.

It was why the Menarini family took her in in the first place. Why she didn't end up living on the streets all those years back. Why she had been made a knight. Her entire adolescent and early adult life all leading to this - her destiny.

Becoming a buffet for tiny machines. A human battery. A source of revenue for abhorrent research and development.

Perhaps there was a time when she would have rejected that fate, fled to find a new life, a new purpose. But that girl had died in the accident all those years back, and the world appeared to be on its way out as well. Juno would resign herself to her purpose. She’d pilot Pietro’s monster. What else was she going to do?

In a few short months, Juno would earn a bit of a reputation for herself and her ferocious metal monstrosity on the battlefield. She had met and exceeded the team’s expectations and it seemed likely that the team would secure the funding required to continue their project. Her fellow knights were less impressed, however. Many felt that she represented a perversion of their order. And to an extent, they were right. If the standard knight was a graceful rapier, then Juno was a sledgehammer. There was no honor to the way she fought. She was a purely destructive force, the proverbial bull in a china shop. It was effective, but at what cost? It didn’t matter to Juno. Nothing really mattered to Juno. She was merely going through the motions.

And it was this general cold demeanor coupled with her dead eyes, recklessness on the field, and the frequency with which she would return from battle absolutely covered in wounds and injuries that earned her the nickname “Zombie,” albeit mostly behind her back.

But the Zombie didn’t mind. She would continue to perform her little knightly duties. All in the hopes that maybe one day, if she were lucky, perhaps she could finally find her death.

That’d be nice.