Mo… Mom — Nathalia, eight years old.
In the same favela where little Fitty used to live when she was seven, but in a more distant area from the center of that community, Nathalia lived with her mother. Even though it was just the two of them, they stayed in a tiny corner of the favela, a place that could barely be called a house.
At that time, the people who lived there still had a few hours before the massacre would happen, which, by coincidence, fell on Nathalia's birthday.
Nathalia's mother was also considered a tall woman, with almost bronze-toned skin and hair that nearly reached her shoulders. She had a youthful appearance and a well-defined body. That was because the way she managed to make money to survive alone with her daughter was by fighting in illegal fight rings, where drunk people and addicts with some cash would bet on fighters they thought would win, or at least not lose their teeth.
That was the environment Nathalia grew up in, cheering for her mother as the years went by and she beat her opponents.
Nathalia loved watching her mother up close as she landed real, heavy blows on her opponents during fights. She especially loved the sound her mother's punches made when they hit hard.
It was a sound that not even the many wraps around her hands could muffle when she threw a punch.
One! Two! Three! — the referee and commentator shouted excitedly, hyping up the crowd as Nathalia's mother's opponent fell. — And there it is! Vanharley! Nora Vanharley wins again! She remains undefeated! —
Nora raised both arms in celebration as drums played in an infectious rhythm, matching the roaring crowd.
Vanharley! Vanharley! Vanharley!
Carried away by the energy of the crowd and the adrenaline of victory, Nora let out a battle cry. Little Nathalia, watching from outside the ring, got caught up in her mother's excitement and shouted as loudly as a child could.
After the fight and celebration ended, Nora left the locker room wearing her black hoodie with flames on the back, holding her daughter's hand as they walked to the betting table to collect her share for the night's fight.
Hey! What's up, Jaff? I'm here to get my cut — Nora said.
Vanharley, the champ, always straight to the point. I like that. Here's today's take — Jaff replied, handing over a small stack of bills.
Vanharley took the money and counted it right there.
Jaff, where's the rest? There's only five hundred and fifty here.
Sorry, champ. Times are tough. That's all tonight's fight brought in.
Nora grabbed Jaff's wrist and slammed it onto the table without any gentleness, pointing two fingers at his face.
You better not be trying to cheat me, Jaff. I know your reputation around here.
Easy, easy! I wouldn't be crazy enough to steal from you, champ. Your fights fill my house more than anyone else's. I'd be hurting myself.
Fine. But you better not be lying to me.
Times really are tough, champ. Haven't you heard the rumors?
What rumors?
Seems like some nearby Order bases were destroyed when that last rift opened in the sky. Some say three out of four smaller bases around here are gone. People from the favela are thinking about leaving, heading closer to the main Order base. Even I'm thinking about shutting this place down and getting out before things get worse. You're my champion, so I suggest you do the same… for your daughter's sake.
I'll keep an eye on it. Thanks, Jaff. Come on, Nathalia, let's go.
Anytime, champ.
When they got home, Nathalia was still buzzing with energy, talking about the fight.
You were amazing, Mom! Every punch you threw sounded like boom!
You've got a lot of energy, even though it's late.
I want to be a strong fighter like you, Mom, so I always have to be ready.
Oh yeah? Then come here and show me how you'd fight.
Nathalia stood in front of her and copied her stance.
No, it's cute you want to imitate me, but don't. Show me how you fight. Find your own stance and learn from your mistakes. That's how you get stronger.
Nathalia adjusted her posture, placing one hand near her ear and the other near her thigh.
Ready?
Ready.
They began sparring. Nora held back, defending playfully, careful not to hit too hard.
Then Nathalia surprised her.
She dodged low, rolled aside, used the wall to gain height, and launched herself forward.
"Out of nowhere she looks like a fleeing cat… what reflexes!" — Nora thought.
Midair, Nathalia feinted a kick, then used it to propel herself forward, landing a punch just above Nora's navel.
The impact sounded louder than a clap.
Nora didn't even move.
Did you see that, Mom? I made a boom like you!
I did. You looked like a little Nuke exploding. You've already got a powerful punch. You'll be an excellent fighter.
Boom! Boom!
"For a second I almost hit my own daughter with full force… what a strong kid." — Nora thought.
Now go to your room. It's late.
As Nathalia turned away, Nora quickly lifted her hoodie, revealing a bruise where the punch had landed.
Aren't you coming, Mom?
The next day, they went to the market. It was usually crowded, but today it was emptier than ever.
Nora bought some food.
That'll be one hundred and ninety-nine pieces.
That's robbery.
Times are tough. Supplies from the Order barely reach here anymore.
Nora hesitated but paid.
As they walked back:
Nathalia, when we get home, pack your things. We're leaving.
She nodded.
Meanwhile… in a lower dimension…
HELL.
A demon, not yet named, approached a superior: Ennea, the Ninth Crown of Hell.
She gave him a task: go to Earth, gather souls, and prepare for a mass attack.
Soon, a massive rift was opened.
The demons climbed through collapsing space, devouring humans along the way.
Back on Earth.
The ground trembled.
Nathalia, RUN! — Nora shouted.
Everything within kilometers exploded and collapsed.
A massive demon emerged.
Another demon grabbed Nora by the neck, ripping Nathalia from her arms.
WAIT! PLEASE! — Nora screamed.
What do you want, human?
A deal. Possess me… but don't kill her.
The demon agreed, planning to betray her later.
You have my permission.
The demon forced itself into her body like burning fire.
MOM!?
With her last strength:
RUN!
Nathalia fled.
Nora transformed into something else… something no longer human.
Years later.
Nathalia survived.
She became a fighter.
Her name faded.
A new one took its place.
Nuke Vanharley.
Undefeated.
Feared.
But still carrying the echo of a single word:
Mo… Mom?