Once upon a time, there was an international multi-millionaire corporation that dealt in arms, medicine, and security. This corporation was called Vasily Corp., and had branches all over the western world. Then humanity evolved superhuman abilities now known as Quirks, stalling technological and societal advancement for nearly a hundred years as all hell broke loose amongst a world now full of gods and monsters alike, and those in power looked among themselves and came to a realization: if they wanted to stay in power, there was work to be done. Strings to pull, contingencies to put in place, progress that needed to be achieved lest they risk falling into irrelevance entirely.

Flash forward to, let’s say, twenty years ago…

Born in captivity and raised in torture and solitude, with only stories of a world in which she would someday fulfill some greater purpose for company; the woman now known primarily as Salem was fashioned from birth to entertain the fantasies of powerful men who wanted to wield powerful playthings. Captivity and pain was all she knew. But one day, mysterious circumstances occurred within the facility secretly helmed by Vasily Corp (still vastly influential all these years and societal evolutions later), and all hell broke loose - including a non-negligible number of the hellions of Vasily’s own making.

Of course, they were a megacorporation with countless resources at their disposal, and she was but one girl, fifteen years old and all alone in a world that she had never experienced before. It wasn’t too long, scarcely a few months, before they were able to recapture her and drag her back to the austere iron walls of the facility and the cell walls she’d always known.

But first: she saw towns, and villages, and cities. She saw people of every age, and the world in which they lived - a world in flames. A world that exploited the very people she’d been created to supposedly protect. Disappointment, horror, and sorrow are hardly enough to encompass all the things she felt, and all the things she saw and experienced. But she also saw, for the first time, love in all its forms – the bonds between people, those who leaned on each other for some reason or another, those who truly loved each other, and those who simply cared for and looked out for one another for their own reasons, or because they believed it was right.

And she found hope.

The lab did indeed eventually catch her and drag her back. This time, however, she did not go as an empty shell, accustomed only to the cruel hand she had been dealt - rather, she was filled with a burning desire to make the world better. For the innocent and repenting, for the people who suffer needlessly; she found herself truly awake for the first time, and found that she couldn’t bear to let them close her eyes again.

So. She was returned to the palm of the devil’s hand. She was used in every way that a body can be used (because that is what she was regarded as: a body, bare of any such thing as a heart or soul). She was hurt, in every way a body can be hurt when it is for the sake of progress and innovation. And she was a young woman, shrewd and hungry and furious, and worst of all, underestimated.

See — you do not feed a starving beast, by accident or otherwise, and expect it not to lunge for more.

In the time since then, she has torn down those responsible for her suffering and rebuilt from the ruins of their dynasty of wealth and cruelty and corruption. There’s no need to get into the gory details. All that matters is that where there once stood a towering facility in which children were raised, experimented on, and tortured for the sake of ‘the greater good’, some twisted idea of innovation and evolution, she has raised a sprawling network of buildings to house, teach, and rehabilitate the innocents harmed by that relentless grasping lust for hoarding power and influence to no ends.

In the power vacuum left behind by the gilded blood on her hands, she has supplanted those she trusts - the small number of former experiments like herself, allied to her cause. Formerly hoarded wealth is directed through projects and accounts to build and renovate schools, homes, orphanages, etcetera, overseen by yet more of her own people.

Unfortunately, in the great purge, some rats escaped. Fled to all the corners of the world, on planes and ships and any method of transportation that could carry them. So the hunt continues, and her blood-red gaze turns towards the Eastern world, led by a single clue of her heritage left behind in the very name she recovered from the ruins of her cage.

Sumire, it said. Sumire Voronya.

Well, as they say… the work never ends.