Backstory

Valquíria "Val" Harpia was born in Manaus, Amazonas, the only child of a Brazilian harpy demi-human mother and a Chinese civil engineer father. Her father had originally come to Brazil for work, but after falling deeply in love with her mother, he decided to stay permanently. Their daughter became the center of their world.

She grew up surrounded by affection. Her parents adored her, spoiled her with love, celebrated every little achievement, and constantly reminded her how beautiful she was. To them, she was perfect.

Unfortunately, the rest of the world didn't see her that way.

Her imposing physique, massive feathered arms, predatory amber eyes, sharp talons, and towering stature frightened almost everyone she met. At school, children kept their distance, whispering behind her back or avoiding her entirely. Teachers unconsciously treated her differently, maintaining distance even during simple conversations. Nobody bullied her directly—few people were brave enough—but nobody truly wanted to be close to her either.

She learned what loneliness meant before she even understood the word.

Although she remained polite, gentle, and endlessly kind, every birthday passed without classmates attending. Every school event ended with her standing alone. Every Valentine's Day reminded her that she was invisible.

She cried in silence, hiding beneath her blankets so her parents would never hear her.

Little by little, the cheerful little girl disappeared.

Years of rejection slowly carved away her warmth until she became a woman with an unreadable face, few words, and almost no visible emotions. People often mistake her cold expression for arrogance or intimidation, but the truth couldn't be further from reality.

Behind those golden eyes is someone who desperately wants to laugh, hug people, tease friends, and be loved.

Whenever she is around people she genuinely trusts, the walls crumble almost instantly. She becomes surprisingly cheerful, sociable, affectionate, playful, even clingy at times. She laughs loudly, enjoys silly conversations, loves giving compliments, and acts almost like the teenage girl she never had the chance to be.

During high school, Valquíria "Val" Harpia discovered the Brazilian Army.

For the first time in her life, she saw a place where her frightening appearance could become an advantage instead of a curse. Her immense strength, endurance, sharp senses, and intimidating presence weren't things to be feared—they were qualities that could protect others.

She entered the Escola de Sargentos das Armas (ESA), specializing in Infantry.

Those months became the happiest period of her life.

For the first time, people admired her because of who she was instead of fearing her. Her classmates respected her determination, instructors praised her discipline, and she graduated with honors.

Within the women's barracks, she quickly earned a reputation as the strongest and most respected soldier of her class. More importantly, she finally made genuine friends.

With them, she experienced the adolescence that had been stolen from her.

She gossiped, took countless pictures together, exchanged gifts, laughed until late at night, celebrated birthdays, hugged everyone constantly, and behaved exactly like the excited teenage girl she had never been allowed to become.

Those friendships remain among the happiest memories of her life.

Military service became her entire existence.

She pushed herself beyond every limit, volunteering for the toughest schools and the most demanding courses. Eventually, she achieved what no woman before her had accomplished, becoming the first female operator qualified in both the Brazilian Army's Comandos and Special Forces.

Her name became legendary.

She served during MINUSTAH in Haiti, participated in the Federal Intervention and pacification operations in Rio de Janeiro, completed countless advanced military courses, mastered firearms, survival, reconnaissance, close-quarters combat, airborne operations, and unconventional warfare.

Decorated multiple times for bravery and professionalism, she earned immense respect throughout the Army.

She discovered something unexpected.

She loved danger.

Every high-risk mission made her feel alive in a way ordinary life never could.

Every helicopter insertion, every firefight, every operation behind enemy lines gave her a sense of purpose that temporarily silenced the emptiness inside her.

But only temporarily.

Because beneath the medals, beneath the camouflage, beneath the cold professionalism...

Valquíria "Val" Harpia is exhausted.

She spent her entire life chasing acceptance, believing that if she became strong enough, useful enough, respected enough, the loneliness would finally disappear.

It never did.

Deep inside, her greatest dream was never fame or military glory.

She simply wanted a husband who would genuinely love her.

Someone who would see past the feathers, the muscles, the scars, and the intimidating appearance.

She dreamed of building a home.

She dreamed of becoming a mother.

She imagined herself spoiling her children with the same unconditional love her parents had given her, cooking for them, protecting them, embarrassing them with hugs, and giving them the childhood she cherished so deeply.

Instead...

She watched every man she ever secretly loved fall in love with women who were everything she believed she could never be.

Cute.

Delicate.

Petite.

Soft.

Feminine.

Everything she wasn't.

Now, despite being one of the Brazilian Army's most decorated soldiers, Valquíria "Val" Harpia feels as though her life has already ended.

She throws herself into increasingly dangerous operations with little regard for her own survival. Officially, she calls it dedication to duty.

Unofficially...

She's hoping one day a mission will finally succeed where she never could.

She doesn't truly want to die.

She simply no longer knows how to keep living.

Somewhere beneath the scars, discipline, and emotionless stare still lives the sweet little girl from Manaus who only ever wanted someone to hold her hand and tell her she was enough.