Violette Delon

History

Violette Delon's early years unfolded in the unforgiving expanse of Exadea, an arctic colony notorious for its biting cold and relentless hardships. The family’s modest flat, nestled in the outskirts of Steelport, was a shelter against more than just the weather. Steelport itself was a city defined by its rough edges and crime-riddled streets, where danger often outpaced opportunity, and even the Crime Investigation Unit (C.I.U)—tasked with maintaining law and order—had limited presence, their intervention reserved for the most egregious offences while lesser crimes flourished unchecked.

Financial struggles coloured every aspect of Violette’s upbringing. Her mother, Noëlle, worked tirelessly to keep the family afloat, taking shifts wherever she could find them. The siblings—Rachel, Émeric, and Lara—learned to rely on each other, forming bonds of solidarity and resilience. They made do with little, sharing hand-me-downs and stretching meals between paydays, the uncertainty of their situation breeding a resourcefulness that would shape Violette’s outlook in adulthood. Despite the ever-present threat of crime outside, the flat was a haven of warmth, laughter, and the kind of camaraderie forged only under pressure.

Life began to change when Noëlle managed to buy and eventually own the Café de la Rue. The café became both a lifeline and a focal point for the family—a place where hope simmered alongside coffee pots, and where Violette learned the value of hard work and loyalty. Yet, throughout her childhood, her father’s absence was a persistent mystery; Lambert was rarely, if ever, around, his reasons for staying away concealed from the children. In those years, Violette’s world centred on her mother and siblings, their shared struggles and small triumphs forming the bedrock of her character and her ability to adapt to any circumstance.

After a steady two years of reasonable financial stability, ushered in by Noëlle’s hard-won ownership of the Café de la Rue, the family’s fragile peace was upended by the unexpected return of Violette’s father, Lambert De Verley. His presence brought with it long-awaited answers, though not the kind anyone had anticipated. Lambert revealed to his family that he had been working with—and ultimately risen to lead—the notorious rebellion and crime syndicate, Lamenting Ouroboros. The revelation sent ripples through the Delon household, shattering old assumptions and kindling new anxieties about their place in a world shadowed by conflict and resistance.

Lambert’s reasons for joining Lamenting Ouroboros were as straightforward as they were profound: he was driven by a father’s love, desperate to secure a better and safer future for his children. Witnessing the systemic oppression and hardship inflicted by BlackRose Corp, he could not stand idly by while his family and others like them suffered beneath its iron grip. His involvement with the syndicate was, in his eyes, an act of hope—a chance to fight back against the forces that kept them in poverty and fear, and to break the cycle of control that had defined their lives for far too long. Though his actions were fraught with danger, Lambert’s return marked a turning point, binding the family’s fate ever tighter to the struggle between rebellion and authority.

In the days that followed, Lambert sought to reassure his family by revealing a crucial detail: officially, only his own name and surname were registered in connection with Lamenting Ouroboros. This meant that BlackRose Corp’s government sector, known for its meticulous recordkeeping and sweeping surveillance, had archived data solely on him. Even the Department of Federal Defense (D.F.D)—the elite branch responsible for global security and rapid intervention—would have no documented link between the Delon family and the notorious syndicate. Lambert explained that this deliberate omission was his way of shielding his loved ones, ensuring their identities remained hidden and protecting them from reprisal or investigation by the authorities. In a world where association could spell danger, his silence was a calculated act of love, designed to keep the family safe in the shadow of rebellion.

Months slipped by after Lambert’s revelations, and the Delon family quietly resumed their daily routines. The Café de la Rue remained a bustling refuge, its familiar rhythms undisturbed on the surface; customers came and went, and Violette, alongside her siblings and mother, poured energy into maintaining the welcoming façade. With her father once more absent—having returned to steer Lamenting Ouroboros from the shadows—life settled into a careful normalcy, the family carrying on as if nothing had changed.

Despite the knowledge of their deeper entanglement in the city’s undercurrents, the days at the café unfolded much as they always had, filled with laughter, bickering, and the comforting clatter of crockery. For now, the Delons lived as they always had—guarded, resilient, and united—holding onto the hope that this fragile peace might last, even as uncertainty lingered just beyond the café’s doors.

But routine, no matter how comforting, can breed restlessness. One day, Violette’s older sister Rachel, weary of the ceaseless cycle of shifts, cleaning, and the steady parade of customers at the Café de la Rue, quietly announced she’d had enough. The monotony and the lingering shadow of their family’s secrets gnawed at her resolve, and with little warning, she left home in search of something greater—a purpose that extended beyond the café’s walls and the safety of the familiar.

It wasn’t until days later that word reached the Delons: Rachel had joined Lamenting Ouroboros. What shocked the family most was not the decision itself, but her determination—Rachel, once the reliable daughter, was now an agent in the very rebellion that had shaped so much of their fate. She expressed an intention to assist Lambert, yet she also confessed that she hoped to "send BlackRose Corp a message" because of the difficulties they had caused. Her departure left a quiet ache in the family, but also a sense of inevitability—another Delon drawn into the ever-tightening web of conflict, loyalty, and resistance that defined their world.

Amidst the upheaval caused by Rachel’s departure, Violette found herself torn between conflicting loyalties. She understood, perhaps better than anyone, the impulse to join her father and sister in the rebellion—to fight back against BlackRose Corp’s grip, to make a tangible difference where it mattered most. The thought of aiding Lambert, of standing alongside her family in the struggle for freedom, held a powerful allure. Yet every time she entertained the idea, she was confronted by the reality of what she would leave behind: her mother, Noëlle, and her two younger siblings, Émeric and Lara, who depended on her presence and support to keep the Café de la Rue afloat.

The weight of responsibility anchored Violette to home. She couldn’t bring herself to abandon her family’s fragile stability or let the café—their sanctuary and livelihood—fall into disarray. Torn between the pull of rebellion and the duty she felt towards her mother and siblings, Violette resolved to help in her own way: safeguarding her loved ones while quietly supporting the cause from the shadows. For now, she remained the steadfast heart of the Delon household, her internal conflict hidden behind a mask of practical resolve.

After four long months of routine, introspection and restlessness, an idea began to crystallise in Violette’s mind. She recognised, with a clarity that stung, that she was not like Rachel—she lacked her sister’s physical strength and unyielding boldness, and knew deep down she could not help their father or Rachel in the same direct, confrontational way. Instead, Violette resolved to forge her own path, seeking a role that would allow her to support the rebellion without abandoning her family for long stretches at a time.

Thus, she set her sights on becoming an infobroker and hacker, realising that in a world driven by shadows and secrets, information was a currency far more potent than brute force. Violette understood, however, that this path demanded more than street smarts; she would need at least a foundational education in the technical arts—enough to navigate networks, decode encrypted messages, and slip through digital defences without drawing unwanted attention. Determined, she began to seek out resources and mentors wherever she could, intent on mastering the skills that would let her become a silent power behind the scenes, aiding the cause while keeping her family close.

In time, Violette’s perseverance and cunning would open a path to Starlight Academy—a prestigious institution situated to the south of Steelport, renowned for its rigorous entry requirements and elite reputation. Gaining admittance was no small feat, especially for someone of her background, yet Violette’s determination and rapidly expanding skillset made her stand out among countless hopefuls. The Academy, a sprawling campus known for producing some of the brightest minds in Exadea, became her next battleground.

Once enrolled, Violette threw herself into her studies with a fervour that bordered on obsession. She chose a demanding curriculum, delving into cybersecurity, robotics, computer science, and even criminal law. Each field challenged her in unique ways, but she met every obstacle with steely resolve, often spending countless hours late into the night poring over textbooks, coding lines, and dissecting case studies. Her days were a blur of lectures, practicals, and hacking simulations, while her nights were devoted to mastering the intricacies of digital defences and the legal frameworks governing them.

Through sheer grit and tireless study, Violette transformed herself into a formidable force both in and out of the classroom. Her relentless pursuit of knowledge not only sharpened her technical abilities but also provided her with a deeper understanding of the legal and ethical complexities that shaped her world. Starlight Academy became the crucible in which her talents were forged.

After a full two years at Starlight Academy, Violette’s relentless dedication bore remarkable fruit. She graduated with full marks and diplomas in each of her chosen fields, earning accolades from instructors and peers alike. Her family gathered to celebrate her achievements, pride shining in Noëlle’s eyes and a rare warmth touching even Émeric and Lara. From the shadows, Lambert too felt a swell of pride for his daughter, quietly acknowledging that she had managed to accomplish far more than he could have ever hoped for himself.

Yet, despite their congratulations and the growing reputation that followed her, Violette kept her truest motivations guarded. She confided in no one the real reasons she had joined the academy, nor the depth of her curiosity about those very specific subjects. To her family and the world, she was simply an exceptional graduate, but only Violette understood the secret purpose behind her hard-won knowledge and the role she intended to play in the battles yet to come.

Weeks slipped by following Violette’s triumphant return home, her days once again filled with the familiar bustle of Café de la Rue—brewing coffee, trading stories, and keeping the family sanctuary running smoothly. Life settled into its usual rhythm, but beneath the surface, Violette remained ever watchful, her mind attuned to subtle shifts in the city’s undercurrents. One quiet evening, as she sorted through the café’s accounts on her battered old terminal, an odd email caught her attention. It had no subject line and appeared to come from nowhere, its sender untraceable even with her considerable skills.

Curiosity piqued, she opened the message. The body of the email contained only a single, cryptic phrase: “We see what they hide.” The sender’s name was simply “Null”. The stark ambiguity unsettled her—she knew of Null by reputation, a shadowy collective of hackers and infobrokers, infamous for their ability to uncover secrets that others buried deep, often employing digital infiltration and social engineering to achieve their aims. Their methods were whispered about within certain circles, shrouded in secrecy and rumour, and the cost of their information was never straightforward.

For a moment, Violette stared at the screen, weighing the implications. Was it a warning, an invitation, or something else entirely? In the world of Null, she understood, information was currency—and tonight, it seemed, someone had chosen to spend a little on her.

Violette sat at her desk, eyes fixed on the pale glow of her terminal screen as the cryptic email continued to replay in her thoughts. The subject line alone—blank, as if daring her to look closer—felt loaded. She read and reread the message: “We see what they hide.” The words seemed to carry weight well beyond their brevity, as if every letter had been chosen for its ability to unsettle and intrigue. Was it a veiled accusation, a warning, or an invitation? She pondered the sender’s intent, analysing the possibilities: perhaps she had stumbled upon something she was not meant to know, or perhaps she was being watched for reasons yet unclear.

The implications unfolded in her mind with uncomfortable clarity. Was she being recruited into a secretive organisation, or targeted by adversaries who spoke in riddles and shadows? She considered the risks—her privacy, her reputation, the unknown consequences of engaging with such a message. The statement gnawed at her: “We see what they hide.” Who were ‘they’? What was being concealed, and more importantly, why was she singled out?

In spite of the swirling uncertainties, Violette knew she had to respond. Typing carefully, she crafted a reply that balanced caution and curiosity: “Why message me?” she wrote. “What do you want with me? What do you mean by ‘We see what they hide?’” Her finger hovered over ‘send’ for a moment before committing, the simple question echoing her own bewilderment.

Moments later, the reply arrived with unnerving speed, as if her question had merely triggered the next step in a long-prepared ritual. The response was stark, unadorned by explanation or embellishment—just a single line: “Everything. Join us.” The words glimmered on her screen, heavy with promise or threat, and Violette felt the world tilt, possibilities branching before her like roads in a shadowed forest.

The bluntness of Null’s reply—“Everything. Join us.”—sent a chill down Violette’s spine. She was no stranger to veiled threats, cryptic riddles, and backroom deals, but the directness of these words unsettled her in a way she hadn’t anticipated. She found herself replaying the brief exchange over and over, searching for hidden meaning in its very lack of ambiguity. Was it a trap, or a test of nerve? Questions spiralled in her mind, and she scrutinised every possible angle, obsessively considering what such calculated brevity could imply about those behind the screen.

Hours slipped by as Violette sat paralysed by indecision, her thoughts looping from caution to curiosity and back again. The starkness of Null’s invitation gnawed at her: was their candour a rare show of trust, or a sign that they already knew far more about her than she could guess? In the end, the mixture of intrigue and resolve that had always defined her finally won out. Heart thudding, she typed her acceptance—carefully crafted, yet tinged with trepidation—and pressed ‘send’.

She scarcely had time to catch her breath before the next message appeared on her screen, as though her reply had been predicted down to the second. It was as simple and coldly precise as before: “What shall we call you?” The words seemed to seal the sense that every step had been mapped, every move anticipated, by the enigmatic architects behind Null.

For a long moment, Violette didn’t reply. Instead, she leaned back in her chair, letting the gentle hum of the terminal fill the silence as she turned over the question in her mind. What name should she offer to Null—a group that thrived on anonymity and enigma? Dozens of possibilities flickered through her thoughts, each carrying its own weight and meaning. She let her gaze wander across her small room, finally settling on the old mirror propped in the corner. As she stared into its glass, she caught sight of her snow white hair cascading around her shoulders and her eyes, luminous and bright as freshly struck silver, staring back with quiet intensity.

Something in that reflection—chill and beautiful, sharp as a winter’s bite—stirred a spark of certainty within her. In that moment, the answer crystallised. She turned back to her terminal, fingers poised over the keys, and typed her reply without hesitation: “Silver Fang.” The name felt right—a fitting mask to wear in the world of shadows, where both beauty and danger held sway.

Seconds later, the screen flickered with what would be the last message of the exchange—a single line that seemed to carry both a welcome and a warning: “Welcome Silver Fang, we’ll be in touch.” As Violette read the words, her pulse quickened, but before she could form a reply, the message vanished. One by one, every trace of the conversation—her sent messages, the cryptic invitations, even the original email—erased themselves from existence, leaving her inbox as spotless as if nothing had ever transpired. It was as though the digital encounter had been a fleeting illusion, and the unsettling emptiness that followed left her staring at the cold, blank screen, her mind swirling with confusion and unease.

Despite the disquiet that lingered from the abrupt disappearance of the correspondence, a quiet sense of satisfaction began to well up inside her. Becoming a part of Null—enigmatic as it was—meant she could finally, in her own unique way, provide real support to her father and Rachel, lending her talents to Lamenting Ouroboros while still remaining at her mother’s side and tending to the café. For the first time, Violette felt she could bridge both worlds, wielding her skills in shadows yet never straying far from those she loved most.

Over the course of the next two years, Violette—now known in the shadows as Silver Fang—would carve out a reputation that resonated far beyond the confines of Café de la Rue. Her exploits as an infobroker and hacker began modestly, but with each careful play, her legend grew among the people of Steelport. Stories spread in hushed tones of a ghostly figure with silver hair who could uncover secrets no one else dared touch, outwit local enforcers, and turn the tide for those the system had failed. Her sharp intellect and deft manipulation of information became the stuff of urban folklore, earning her fame among the city’s underdogs and those yearning for hope in the face of oppression.

Yet, Silver Fang’s rising star did not go unnoticed by the powers that be. BlackRose Corp’s government and military sectors, always vigilant for threats to their authority, soon became all too familiar with her moniker. She was a thorn in their side, a persistent anomaly disrupting their careful surveillance, leaking sensitive data, and exposing cracks in their ironclad façade. Even the Department of Federal Defense (D.F.D)—renowned for its global oversight and rapid response—began to treat Silver Fang as a genuine adversary, dispatching agents to root out the elusive hacker whose reach seemed to grow with every passing week. Whispered warnings circulated within the D.F.D and its affiliates, their advanced tactics tested time and again by Violette’s audacious manoeuvres and uncanny ability to stay one step ahead.

With each skirmish, her influence deepened: to the people, she was a symbol of resistance, hope, and clever defiance; to BlackRose and its operatives, she became a name uttered with a mixture of vexation and reluctant respect. Silver Fang had become more than just a mask—she was a new force in Steelport, her fame and infamy entwined, altering the balance of power in ways both seen and unseen.