Valkyrie.

She was never a boxer to begin with. Her name was Valerie Briarwood, and she had cast her last name aside when she had left her nest, still barely sixteen. She was a small convenience store cashier who cared for her brother making just enough to make ends meet. And it was all because her life at home had become utter turmoil…

Born into an upper middle class family in the great city of Novus Lokris, she should’ve been well off in one of the numerous private sectors of the area. She should’ve been spoiled to no end like all the others in her economic standing. She should’ve been coddled, born to be heiress to a potential corporate throne… But that never happened. Not to her, not to her baby brother.

Her parents were to blame. 

They were determined, passionate, fierce individuals. Many saw them as role models, undeterred by the corporate behemoths around them. Valerie had seen them work, growing their business like indomitable dandelions. She had watched with awe how their small, family business started to flourish within years into an entire cosmetic industry based around the use of natural flora. 

But with their sudden, popcorning growth, there was also a series of unfortunate events that followed—the stock market crashed, the economy tanked, and their sales dropped immensely from rising competitors. Then her mother went the extra mile and naively fell victim to a poorly promised Ponzi scheme. But what put the final nail to the coffin was none other than her father who gambled away their remaining assets through incredibly shady investments, assuring the family that this was all backup to when all else eventually failed. 

They were fired for incompetence and a supposed clashing of ideals by the same company executives that they had hired themselves. In her father’s words, they were “a bunch of greedy assholes who wanted nothing but corporate domination.” The difference in ideals was just an excuse. But whatever the case was, all their hard work was gone, lost to their executives’ supposed hunger for money. And slowly, their newly attained mansion became a single family home. Then an apartment. Then shared living. Slowly, dinner outings became home-cooked meals. Then fast food. And finally, canned. 

To Valerie, this was still tolerable. She had a good head on her shoulders and had a fiery personality that would always manage to brighten her own mood. But one night, she overheard her parents outside the door speaking in mouse-like chatter. And they mentioned—

A suicide pact. 

Life was unforgiving; they had given up. It was all over for them anyways. How could they ever recover from something like this? Their lives’ work… All down the drain. But they weren’t just planning on stopping there. Valerie and her brother were first on the literal chopping block. Apparently, they couldn’t bear the thought of having their children live without parents. “How can they survive?” they’d said. “How can they feed themselves without our help?”

Well, it wasn’t up to them. This was her life and hers alone. Nobody would tell her what to do. So the first thing she did was make a vow—“I’ll show them. I’ll prove my worth.” Then she packed a few things and hurried to a quiet corner of the tiny, shared apartment complex. Her still unnamed baby brother looked up into her eyes. She named him then and there—Beady. Because of his soft, round eyes. Then she made a promise—

“I’ll show you the world.” 

And with that, she jumped down from the apartment balcony—thankfully, it was only one story high. Then she made her way into the bustling city streets of a world she’d supposedly never truly seen, holding a small baby boy gently within her embrace. 

…

It wasn’t long before she started settling within the outskirts of the city. Using all the knowledge and experience she’d seen her parents use during their business ventures, she managed to snag a job that gave her just enough to live on—a small, privately owned convenience store clerk as well as cashier. After all, she needed the money. Money was everything. One thing she knew from watching her parents was that with enough money, she wouldn’t be toyed around by others in their own personal gripes. But without it, she was nothing. Just another rat on the streets, looking to survive. 

Sadly, she couldn’t manage to keep Beady around. It was impossible to care for him while she was out job-hunting for every part-time job on the block. She would live off the streets, cleaning herself up in the bathrooms of her workplaces. And that was not what she’d wanted for Beady. A free government-owned childcare and adoption center was the only option she had while she was out trying to afford a permanent residence. And there, she met a childcare worker by the name of Clara. 

Clara was nice, helpful even. With enough gifts and sweet-talking, Valerie managed to persuade Clara into helping her take care of her baby brother for the time being. She didn’t want him adopted; it was part of her plan to take him back eventually. And all she needed for that to happen was time. Just until she had enough assets to comfortably provide for herself and Beady. 

In the meantime, she scheduled to visit once every month to check up on her brother and to shower Clara with gifts to keep her from potential betrayal. The last thing she wanted was to come back to find Beady gone. And finally, with all that settled and out of the way, Valerie quickly got to work. 

Every day was monotonous. It was so mundane and boring. The only forms of excitement or adrenaline pumping action was when customers of the corporate kind would come out to let off some steam. And not in a good way. 

Insults were the usual. Spitting was a tip. But sometimes, they would trash the store, saying how borderline poor the place was that it couldn’t even afford AI clerks. And rarely, they would cause violence. A slap to the face was common, but a punch? She could take it, but there were days when she’d have to force herself steady because of a severe concussion. And yet, there was still no support for someone like her. If she had called the cops, all they’d do would verbally slap you across the face for calling them to report on something so insignificant. Local authorities were unreliable at best. She had never known how corrupt they were until she was on the receiving end of corporate snakes. 

She had to tolerate it. It was the only way to make money. So she tolerated. She tolerated and tolerated until one day, she couldn’t. She finally hit that breaking point. 

Money? she’d thought. Isn’t it easier just to steal? Maybe it was, but she was only doing it out of spite. And when the repeat corporate offender finally showed, she decided to be extra helpful that day. Leaning in closer, face to face, acting all shy and smiley, slowly moving her hand down his pocket… She felt something hard, metallic even. With one hand, she gave him what he wanted, but with the other, she pulled something out of his pants pocket and quickly made her way back to her station. 

She didn’t get hit that day. No punch, no slap. Just an ugly wink and a wave was all that was left in her memories. And one other thing… 

As her heart beat like a newly formed sub-fi rock band, she opened her hands to reveal a shiny, jewel-encrusted metallic ring—an expensive wedding band that had probably costed more than her entire life’s savings.