• name / alias : ㅤmao blakeley (真央・ブレイクリー), regicide monarch, pink oligarch, 22nd blakeley heiress.

• age :ㅤ 21.

• pronouns :ㅤ she/her.

• species :ㅤyaksha-human hybrid, akashic, black cultivator.

• birthdate :ㅤ2/27.

• location :ㅤhadou city.

• divine weapon :ㅤhildr randgrid armor.

• lost instrument :ㅤağlayan kaya; through crocodile tears, i’ll control the entire world.

• alignment :ㅤchaotic neutral.

• height :ㅤ168 cm.

• eyes :ㅤpurple.

• hair :ㅤpink.

• affiliation :ㅤblakeley industries, houtu society (the preservers).

• likes :ㅤcounting prime numbers, nail painting, reading fantasy books, messing with people.

"You should serve me, and only me. After all, who is it that allowed you to have all of those fancy and strong weapons? My company is one that allowed humanity to get so far, after all. Be grateful, okay~?""Mao Blakeley, current head of Blakeley Industries. I suppose "current" is moot since the position is still in the air due to my father's passing, but... I'll be leader some day. I sorta forced my way in here, but if one had to guess what my crime is, I've been sentenced because of my family's extremely wicked ways. Which is whatever. I'm just inheriting the family business!"

Divine Weapon: Hildr Randgrid Armor.
Rank: Mastery.

Mao Blakeley’s Divine Weapon, manifesting as her armor. It allows her to use multiple Noema without negative drawbacks. It is an armor that spontaneously grows and surrounds her body via a simple microchip. As if moving like its own protection shell, the activation rate is instantaneous and spawns the moment Mao engages in any sort of conflict, or if she’s attacked in any shape or form. The armor works as a way to fight up close and personal, as Mao excels at close quarters combat. Mao can also manifest parts of it for defense, or in later iterations, wherever she is struck outside of combat uniform will manifest before any sort of impact.

skills
Inability to Feel Pain	Born with CIPA (Congenital insensitivity to pain and anhidrosis), Mao does not feel pain on any sort of level. Because of this, it allows Mao Blakeley to fight at a full powered state, without feeling the need to hold back against anyone or anything. As a result of her Yaksha heritage however, conventional weaponry doesn’t affect her regardless of her condition.
Stonefaced Sorrow	A blasphemous cry towards the heavens, emboldened by rage and hatred. While increasing the strength of all enemies, it also maximizes Mao’s defenses and cuts the damage Mao receives in half. It also erects a translucent barrier that reflects all physical attacks back temporarily.
Physical Transfiguration	A portion of the manifested power from the Immanence God of Nihilism. With it, upon touching any target, any surface, or even concept or information, Mao is able to manipulate it and bend it to her shape. Unless someone has proper spiritual protection, she can transfigure it to become “real” in her eyes. The untouchable becomes touchable, the invisible becomes the visible. For many of the standard enemies, or weaker targets, she can easily just transform them into something that can be crushed. But stronger Akashics, those whose Noema safeguard their mind, body and spirit, are much harder to transform. This, alongside her Divine Weapon, are her main forms of attack.
Noema: Niobe	A manifestation of one’s thoughts that are made physical. It is different from a Divine Weapon, as it separates itself from one’s Will, and rather, is an one manifesting an idea from their consciousness. When invoked, bright pink crystals grow out of her armor, and refract all light that peers within them. As a passive, it allows her to blind her enemies who look straight at her, as she is a constant mirror to the eye. Its true property however, is manipulating water and turning it into a high pressure water cannon. The crystals on her armor are capable of overclocking over 90,000 PSI, cutting through most people, and most if not all metals.
Noema: Morgan le Fay	The second Noema owned by Mao Blakeley, the inner self that exists within. When invoked, it allows her to weaponize the Ananke (Magic) that exists throughout the world, in order to achieve impossible feats that are said to be “possible.” Some of these include reality warping on a large enough scale where only a Lost Instrument can be used. Others are simple, such as defying the laws of physics without a Lost Instrument or Divine Weapon. More importantly, she can use the powers of other Noema through this, replicating their powers by harnessing pure magic. If there isn’t enough Ananke around, she can’t achieve this feat.

lost instrument

Ağlayan Kaya; Through Crocodile Tears, I’ll Control the Entire World: Mastery

The Lost Instrument of Mao Blakeley, born from the desire of “I’ll want to dominate the entire world through force.” A wave of water emanates from her crystals, a powerful tidal wave that consumes all of her enemies before her. While the wave is enough to drown anyone unfortunate who is unprepared, anyone who is consumed by the wave has their emotions manipulated to Mao’s whims. By being able to change their emotions, she is also able to manipulate and interfere with memories attached to emotional moments, rendering them unable to fight. Only Mao herself can undo the interference, though it is possible for one to resist its effects by sheer willpower; though one risks the event of driving themselves insane due to conflicting feelings towards her.

"UNSURMOUNTABLE LEGACY."

25XX.
It’s hard to define what a relative’s passing means to someone. For some people, it’s sadness. For some people, it's a relief and joy. For a minority of people, they’re at a loss of words, unable to comprehend or understand the feeling of losing something they’ll never see again. They’re a cauldron of all of those prior emotions. Feelings that are indescribable are ones that can’t be expressed through any sort of word or language. It’s a feeling that you just exist in, swim in.It has no form, definition of existence in the mortal world. It just is.As the coffin was lowered into the ground, Mao Blakeley stared silently at the casket. There was no word that could describe the feeling she felt at that moment. No thought passed through her mind, so the only thing she could hear was the rain that fell alongside the casket.Of course, there were people there to give a service, but no one would dare to disrupt her in the strange act of mourning. The Blakeley heiress’ expression was unreadable, different from her usually volatile and faux-positive self.She hated the man that was lowered into the earth. More than ever, there was no other person she hated than her father. A human who spat in the face of human understanding, who facilitated scientific crimes that would easily violate every convention on the earth.She wanted to kill him. She wanted to wrench his life from his body, pop his head off like a doll. She was close; being the heiress of the company meant she was so close to achieving that goal.But no. It was cut short. Some hick Devil Summoner did it for her instead. She should be thankful. She should be relieved. She should feel some sort of gratitude. But she didn’t.Humans killing other humans... Life devouring other life. The circle of existence was an eternal battle of supremacy. Her father got what he deserved, and died in the same fashion he lived; in a shadow of fear, yearning to rule over his property with an iron fist. No gaps, no hidden secrets. No plots against him. If he had learned her true thoughts, he would’ve killed her.Then he would’ve remade her. It was a grim reality, but Mao Blakeley knew that’s what happened to most children in the family.However, by the time she pulled herself out of her thoughts, she realized that there were only two people left in the graveyard. It was still raining, and it was the voice of her trusted aide who snapped her out of her thoughts.“Lady Blakeley.” Whispered the taller man, who bowed before the young woman, retaining the fancy umbrella over her head. “We must head home. There are proceedings in place in order for you to inherit your father’s line of work.”“... Do you know who killed him?” The words were as silent as a whisper, but the fury in her voice couldn’t be any more clear.“Not yet. We know that it’s someone from the Phantom Society, but any information about the day is kept secret by Yatagarasu’s leader.”“... I’ll have to pay him a visit, then.” The young woman made a note for later that she would come by and talk to the eccentric leader and Prime Minister. She hated speaking to such overwhelming positivity, but her own motivations shoved her gripes aside. For the first time in hours, she noticed that her hands were clenched at her side. Clenched into fists, dried and coagulated blood coating her smooth skin. It was a sight she was all too familiar with; but she hadn’t seen her own blood in such a long time.She felt surprised at a rising feeling that wasn’t carried by foreknowledge.“Father, may you rest in peace.” The pink haired aristocrat prayed before the grave. “One day, I hope to see you in whichever pit you end up in. Whether that be in the gates of Heaven, or the pits of Hell, I’ll be sure to wrench you from that seat you sit in, and ensure that your death is final. Watch me, as I surpass you in every way.” She spat on the grave, unladylike in every shape and form, and walked away. Her manservant carried the umbrella so that not a drop of rain would get on her handcrafted, luxurious, presumably had many mistreated workers die for the materials, dress. The armored car that held her driver already held the door open; her second manservant was prepped and ready to go.She got into the car and looked at the cemetery; the Blakeley Cemetery in Middle-of-Fuck Nowhere, Alabama. To stay “humble”, her American relatives made the family cemeteries be scattered throughout the United States in the most remote places. Americans were weird, strange, and utterly baffling.She kept that as a note.“Tell me, is Gretchel aware of father’s passing?” Mao glanced outside of the window, watching the rain fall. The car continued to drive back into Not-So-Middle-of-Fuck Nowhere, and she watched the squalor that was the American South housing situation.“She is, but we haven’t gotten a response. She’s been studying in Japan, as you know...”“And she doesn’t want to talk to me, yada yada. I know. Let her know that Father has been buried, alright? Stupid bitch...” Mao replied in her deadpan and annoyed pitch of voice. Her face was devoid of any faux happiness or joy she usually held. However, she was going back into the public eye soon. If she didn’t display her attitude she held to the public, her entire image would come crashing down.“Two, Three, Five, Seven, Eleven, Thirteen, Seventeen... Thirteen, Eleven, Seven, Five, Three, Two...” A series of six times did she repeat the mantra. Neither her driver, or her personal servant said anything about it. She was known to count those exclusive prime numbers. After two minutes of her strange prayers, Mao Blakeley perked up with a smile.“Alright! Well, since there’s little we can do about Gretchel, why don’t we move on over to Japan and find the Prime Minister! I’m so glad that he’s more than willing to reach out to the Blakeley’s with open arms! Always a charming guy, Masahiko Ametsuchi...” She giggled, holding a hand to her mouth. Neither the driver, nor her personal servant said anything, and both bowed their heads, not making eye contact with her.A wise decision. Neither wished to lose their job, moreover, experienced much worse for offending her. They both knew that her positivity was an act, like an idol that has a personality on TV, or wrestling. Offending her was akin to suicide; an act that would not be tolerated. Despite her father passing away, everyone who worked in the Blakeley’s companies and corporations knew that they were watched, observed, and monitored.The Blakeley Dynasty were physical gods; none who they touched escaped their radiance.Mao Blakeley arrived at a private airport, and many interviewers and news networks lined up at her car. She could smell them even from outside the car, and combined with their looks, it was unbearable. Still, she smiled and waited to be escorted out; the umbrella now being held above her once again.“Miss Blakeley! Is it true that your father was assassinated?”
“Who will take over the company after his passing?”
“Have you seen the shareholdings of Blakeley Industries? Will you suffer a bankruptcy like the Kirijo’s of old?”Mao felt those questions - and more - assault her ears. Chattering of inferior animals. Blithering of worthless creatures. She stopped and turned halfway towards the crowd, raising one hand. “Right now, the Blakeley family mourns the loss of my father, Kyō Blakeley. At this moment, we don’t have any idea of who will take over the company, but my father’s advisors are preparing me to be his successor. The Blakeley Family, and Blakeley Industries, would appreciate your understanding until a public statement is announced. Thank you.” She bowed out of piety towards the paparazzi, and soon disappeared inside of the private airport. Many others assaulted her with more questions, but she didn’t hear them. Why would she pay attention to the words of lessers?“... Those were Mao Blakeley, daughter of Kyō Blakeley’s, words on the matter of his death. The Blakeley family has been around for at least a couple hundred years now, and have revolutionized technology around the globe.’ The news report that documented her appearance in the public eye blared on the TV screen on her jet. ‘For them to lose such a powerful leader and visionary, must have the young industrial monarch shaken to her core. Up next..’ Mao turned off the TV. She became disinterested by the words spoken by the American news. As if it was automatic permission to speak, one of her council raised his voice to her.“Lady Mao, it is imperative that you talk with your father’s council before anything else.” One of her younger aides bowed his head. “They are tense, and very anxious. A Devil Summoner with that type of power, they fear someone with your caliber of strength-.”“Are you giving me advice?” The cheery, filial and kind facade dropped. Mao was in the middle of painting her nails on the jet.“N-No... It was... a suggestion.” The aide bent a full 90 degrees, his blood rushing to his head, he was utterly dizzy. It pounded like a raging waterfall, but Mao’s voice was louder than his physical troubles.“I talk to my council if I am in need of advice. If you seem so bent on advice, then I suggest you take my place. Would you like to take my place?”The aide did not reply, he froze in fear. Mao slowly rose from her seat, taking a few steps to his side and placing a hand on his head. She soon trailed it back from his hair, then to his spine. “It’s okay. I forgive you. You must be new. Here, let me give you a reminder of your place in this world.”The sound of a crack, followed by a snap. It was easy, like breaking brittle kindling, or chewing ice. He screamed, and fell to the ground. His breath was shallow, and he couldn’t stop screaming. Her finger pushed directly in his spinal cord, shattering it with a fragile touch. Her superhuman strength triggered, and her eyes glowed a beautiful crimson. None in the plane, her senior advisor, the aides in the plane, nor the pilot or flight attendants, paid any mind. They did not speak, nor did they let the true feeling of fear and dread leak from their faces.The Blakeley Dynasty held those who could not be defied. They did not speak, because they did not want to be next. “Someone get him off the floor.” Mao commanded. Two of her aides took the man away, as he screamed in pain, crying about not being able to feel his legs. Mao rolled her eyes.“My lady.” Her senior advisor, who carried her umbrella and let the rain coat his old and stalwart body, raised his voice after the noise of the ape silenced itself. “Young and brash he may be, he holds a point. You should speak with your father’s council. They should be reassured that their lives are not in danger.”Mao sighed, glancing out the window. These monkeys... no matter if you were rich or poor, they always held fear. Fear of what’s to come, fear of their lives. People who commit such atrocities only care for themselves. Mao hated them. They only cared for her now, because she was the one in charge. But, she would play the aristocrat for now. She only nodded in acknowledgement of the idea, soon looking away.Her mind would drift towards other things, lost in thought. At least while she was in the privacy of her own bubble, she would soon close her eyes, taking a bit of a rest. Japan was still a ways away.The Blakeley Family, split from the Kirijo Group as they did with the Nanjo so long ago, is a conglomerate family made up of multiple members. They hold a legion of family members, and their connection with one another is not iron clad.Throughout the years, different sections of the Blakeley Family betrayed and superseded one another in order to obtain power. They held facades in front of the public, but behind closed doors, the Blakeley family did not hesitate to backstab one another. Repeatedly, and without end. A samsara of violence. This lasted for at least half of two centuries.However, the main Blakeley family, and that which has remained in power since this moment, rose above all others. Forcing the former head to abdicate their position, Mao’s Great-Great Grandfather became the first Blakeley to subjugate the rest of the family, and force them into submission. He was a revolutionary businessman and inventor, though he came from a low ranking position in the Kirijo Group. However, when seeing the power vacuum left when the Kirijo’s fell from the public eye, her great-great grandfather seized it.He asked for loans from the banks, and with the money given, he seized companies, businesses and technological industries to fall underneath the Blakeley Family. Soon, products that were household distributed came directly from the Blakeleys. He revolutionized smartphones, planes, cars, and energy... Whatever the world was lacking in, the Blakeley’s revolutionized it and changed it for the better. He held such power that a majority of the first world switched to more clean energy than relying on the decadent and decaying fossil fuels.The Blakeley Dynasty from then on, had been established. An oligarchy without equal. A power that holds complete and utter domination in the markets they placed themselves in. Encroaching upon the world, they absorbed and devoured everything they touched.The Blakeley family was the embodiment of human greed. Greed that tainted, ruined and corrupted everything that it touched interiorly.Over time, the Blakeley Dynasty became more and more obsessed with touching their feet in supernatural matters, as their predecessors did before. They capitalized on the idea of COMPs and GUMPs; redesigning them to look less mechanical, and streamlining them to fit modern machinery and weapons. Not only could they be compacted, but they could take the shape of whatever the user wanted or desired. A fusion of human production and technology, the shape of progression, while also representing the regression symbolized by convenience.In the underground, the societies of Yatagarasu and the Society saw the Blakeley’s as neutral grounds, and they both worked with the family in order to successfully procure weapons and security from the family. The family sought status in Yatagarasu, while also leaning in and funding money to the Phantom Society’s dealings. In a way, the Blakeley Dynasty played both factions to fuel their war; it was war racketeering, plain and simple.Their cruel nature found themselves to be detached to the lives they had caused harm to. It was, in their eyes, just business.The former head of the Blakeley Dynasty, Kyō Blakeley, was a man of innovation and science. He was ambitious, brilliant even. Just like his successor, he found himself to be a man who was charismatic in the light and scheming in the dark. His heart never held an ounce of light; it was corroded by the family values that had been fostered in him. When he was in his mid-twenties, he had killed his predecessor in cold blood and took the position of leader for himself. He found himself fed up with his old man’s stubbornness and refusal to proceed with his plans.Kyō had used the documents from the likes of the scientist Sirius Zhi to look into the ideas of the Akasha and Demonfication. He also traced it back to the events where the Kirijo Group experimented and brought out the power of Persona to many victims. Those who died, and those who succeeded.That was in the past. Many of his father’s fold did not approve, nor did they like the path of human experimentation. When he had all of them killed, his closest aides and confidants were ones that would push through with the experimentations. However, he didn’t aim to experiment on random people. No, that was too inhumane. He then thought of his direct family; He sired an heir and a wife of his own, but his son was a burden to him. Tao would not succeed him in the way that he would, and his mental defects would be inefficient for someone who wields the power of an Akasha.He needed something perfect. He needed the perfect specimens that would allow him to fully grasp his destiny. That’s when it hit him.He would simply create his own. That way, they belonged to him. He owned them. They held no rights unless they were given to him.That’s how Mao Blakeley, and sixteen other children, were born.

A human woman, his genetics and Demon genetics.. That’s what was created for the birth of seventeen heirs. There were many deaths, many failures, and many losses (financially, biologically and mentally) amongst the way, but Mao’s father didn’t care in the slightest.Although it was irrelevant in the long run, due to the mass experimentation on DNA and genetics, Mao was born with the ability to not feel pain.Mao is the sixth child out of the seventeen. Although they looked like regular humans, the Demon blood that they possessed gave them supernatural strength and power. It was not full and total Demonification; otherwise, they were incorrigible, unreasonable beasts. Many of the failures were such, and had to be put down. She never knew the hundreds of siblings that died for her birth, but she could feel the presence of their deaths in the rooms they were raised in. Separated from humanity, unable to interact with anything outside of her father’s aides and scientists.She thought it was normal. She thought this was the due process for all things. Her isolation meant that the things she was taught, the things she was shown, and the things that she worked at, were natural for people like her.But that was her first mistake. “People like her”.She, like the rest of her siblings, were smarter and more intelligent than most. Mao was taught the most basic of things, like any child, but by age fifteen, she had an understanding of most psychological and philosophical concepts. They were proficient in mathematics, reading, writing and all sorts of etiquette. None of them complained about the things that they were given, but Mao found herself more dissatisfied with the treatment given.Her family treated her like a caged animal. Her supposed family treated her like a rat, continually applying pressure to her until she became a perfect diamond. She kept these thoughts to herself, as the children who became too smart for their own good, were disposed of.Hence, there were only seventeen left by the time they had “matured” into the next phase of her father’s plan.“There are seventeen of you who survived the initial process. However, there can truly only be one heir. There cannot exist two suns in the sky, nor two sovereign heirs. Therefore, we will need to cull the rest of the herd.All of you will fight to the death, and the survivor shall be awarded my position. Many of you have awakened your Akasha, and those who haven’t, or have not been implanted in one, are expected to die off first. I expect good things out of the victor.”Those were her father’s words. It was the first time that she saw her father in person, as he so casually turned his successors into mini-gladiators. For his amusement, for his scientific research, for his own sadistic pleasure.This was reality. This was what humanity at its core was. Selfish, immature, and wholly corrupt from its innards to its scaly exterior. By that point, she hadn’t formed a personality outside of a diligent young girl, but something broke inside of her. The sense of anger, welling up as pure hatred, crystalized what would be the personality she carried for the rest of her future. One man made her experience pure disgust, despite never having met him before. The feeling could only be surmised with two sentences.She despised humans. And, she despised her father.There were 17 of them, herself included. From the moment she was told to kill the rest, she did what she was commanded to do.It broke her, it turned her into a monster. She skipped and walked in the abandoned halls of where they were raised. The Valkyrie who claimed each life with a click of her feet.There was one decapitation, and another blunt hit to the back of the head, and then smacking them against the floor.“This is what we’re meant to do, right?”There were fifteen of them, herself included.The weak were next; she killed one of the youngest, impaling him with her sharp stiletto, dragging it from his abdomen to the top of his chest. One of the younger members of her family tried to shoot at her, but she caught the bullet and threw it back; splitting their skull in half.“Because what’s the point, right? This is what we’re meant to do, right?!”Fifteen turned to thirteen. Thirteen to eleven. Then to seven, then five...She hummed and laughed as she broke and shattered bones. There were those with Akashas, yes, but many couldn’t control them. Ultimately, their weakness caused her victory. Crushing their heads, breaking their chests, beating them with their own organs and bodies.Mao laughed, she felt joy out of doing it. They were weak. They were the weak ones. They were the weak ones.They were the weak ones. She was their messiah.‘Your cries of hatred are ones that seek retribution. You, darkness incarnate, cannot cry out of anguish. Revel in your pain, toil in your vengeance. Your soul is my soul. We are one in the same -.’“Niobe.”Two more fell with a brush of her fingers. Her fingers were red paint brushes, yet the winds that she cast from them allowed her to draw without a canvas. The Valkyrie from Hell held power that was more powerful than the rest of her family. They were weak, yet she was burdened to carry them to rest.Where’s the fun in that? Why did she have to carry that burden? The weak deserve to die. The weak deserve to be broken. If they couldn’t survive this, they did not deserve the right to live.One more fell, and he was the second eldest. Yet, Mao’s strength shattered him with eight punches. There was barely anything that matched her strength. Everything broke with her fingers.They were weak. She was strong. No one, not even her father, was stronger. The world was weak, and she was strong. Because they held that lowly, monkey-like sentiment. That kill or be killed sentiment.She is the killer. The devourer of the weak, the slaughterer of the strong. The idea of “kill or be killed” was an idea that didn’t register in her brain.The Regicide Monarch, the Demon of Regicide... The people who observed her beast-like, animalistic and brutal actions called her such names. Although her siblings were not truly heirs, the title applied to her for her sheer brutality. No regard for family or ties. Her father marveled at her destruction, and her abilities. She was his favorite. Her personality, her goals or her thoughts didn’t matter.It had been decided, based on one factor.The ability to weaponize and use multiple Akashas. Limited it might be, she didn’t need a COMP to do so. She held the extreme genetic strength and power of Demons, while using the power of the Akasha... A naturally born Persona-user.The laboratory, turned into a realm of siblicide, was sealed off after Mao’s placement as heir was decided. Her last remaining elder sibling, Gretchel Blakeley, was banished from the Blakeley Dynasty, cast out and lived with outer family members. As far as it mattered, she cared little for her sister. Less so for someone who was weakminded. Not to mention, Gretchel held no loyalty to the family she was raised in, someone who was spared by her greatness.The Blakeley Dynasty continued to praise and raise Mao Blakeley up. She adopted a celebrity persona; she was a perfect woman. The perfect model, the perfect star. She appeared in places across the world as the “heir” to Kyō Blakeley’s perfect empire. Many people praised her, but their praises were vain and foolish to her. Of course, she waved, smiled, and even complimented the people for their shallow and ugly praises, but there were times where the mask slipped.There were times where her ugly and rotting personality was masked underneath backhanded compliments and words. No one seemed to ever understand or comprehend her. No one stood on her level. No one truly stood as her equal.No one in the world was one that could understand her worldview. A world where the rich, the poor, the strong, the weak, were all inferior to her. Because their flaws as humans made them weak. Their flaws, their personalities, their vices... made them weak. No matter how noble, passionate or upright they were, they all held flaws.It was pathetic to see humanity attempt to champion such behavior. It was even more disgusting to have to try to mask such behavior under a veil of positivity. Why does she have to play the fool? The monkey?She took it out on the people who deserved less. The humans who used the power to Summon Demons, Devil Summoners... For fun, she cleaned out entire rouge summoner bases. The Valkyrie from Hell was her name, and she enjoyed the massacre. The thrill of the hunt. It was like her childhood all over again.The screaming, the begging, the torture, the thrill. Devil Summoners who thrived off of harming others, now found themselves begging and yearning for a second chance.Too late! It’s too late to be begging for such pleasantries. People who hold attachments to this world but commit sin... It’s a paradox that she couldn’t even comprehend. Mao didn’t hold any attachment to this world except for herself.She was above everyone else. She was different from everyone else.On a fateful day, she entered with her father talking to someone. Long flowing blue hair, wearing a hat and a mask. Her face was obscured, so Mao couldn’t see anything that named her identity. However, based on their conversation (that she wasn’t paying attention to), she was a Devil Summoner, a mercenary in the field. She watched from the entrance of her father’s grand office, a hall that was surrounded by soldiers.Anyone would be intimidated by such a presence. But neither her, nor the woman who stared at her father held any weight of fear. She could tell. The woman held no semblance of fear, or any emotion in her being.She was a weapon to kill, an orchestra or slaughter.“So, this is your test. You understand?” Mao’s father spoke to the woman, but she only looked at him, and walked away. As the woman walked away from her father, into the darkness, Mao stepped out of the darkness.The two looked into each other’s eyes, for a brief moment. Mao saw nothing in them. A sea of blue, a form of nihilism that could kill a man just from murderous intent alone. It was weaponized, homed in towards a singular person; a feeling that she felt all too familiar with. Yet, there was no one that could compare to her. This person was nothing but an ant on the path she walked on.What reason was there living for such a purpose? That mercenary was the embodiment of self-destruction. She held no path, no place in life. To Mao, she was the perfect embodiment of what the world was to her - a life that held no meaning.The next time she entered that room, her father was killed. Murdered by a Devil Summoner. No corpse to remember him by. Turned to nothingness.That was her kill. That was her reason for living. She saw her father as weak. Surpassing the man on the top of the totem pole was the Blakeley Dynasty’s legacy. She did not feel sad for her father’s passing, but she did feel angry that she did not wring his life out of his body with her own hands. When she returned to Japan, and back to Blakeley Industries’ main headquarters, it clicked in her mind.There was only one person who would aim to assassinate her father; one of the most powerful people in the world. A person who saw their life as meaningless.A weapon of slaughter that embodied the worst form of nihilism.Mao hated that woman, because she was the lowest of the low. How dare she intrude on business that wasn’t hers?She’ll find that woman, and ruin everything about her. Why should she feel thankful, after all? Lower class beings deserve only the best treatment from her, should they earn her attention. Her twisted, corrupted form of love and affection.Her hate, molded into her own view of nihilism.“It seems I’ll have to pay the Prime Minister a visit, after all. Perhaps he knows what’s going on.”