leo ragevald

Leo Ragevald’s life began in shadows long before he ever set foot on the battlefield. Born in a crumbling district of New Aurora City in the year 2098, he was the product of desperation and addiction: his mother, consumed by powerful synth-drugs, scarcely knew of his existence beyond the hollow pangs of guilt that fleetingly crossed her mind. His salvation—or so it seemed—came in the form of his Aunt Dara. A woman of sharp smiles and sharper debts, Dara swept Leo from his mother’s broken apartment one rain-soaked night, promising to raise him “right.” But her love had a price: in secret she sold him to the government’s clandestine Project Ragevald for a hefty payout. At the facility, Leo was stripped of any childhood. Trained in combat simulations, injected with experimental neuro-enhancers, and drilled in tactics that far outstripped his tender age, he learned quickly that survival meant keeping his fury bottled tight. His aunt’s betrayal and the memory of his mother’s haze left him bitter and vengeful—yet he dared not show it. Instead, he developed a low, quiet demeanor: watchful eyes, clenched jaw, voice when used at all barely above a whisper. Still, beneath that subdued exterior raged the heart of a lion. During live-fire drills, his temper would flare—hands shaking, vision narrowing—only to be quelled by sheer force of will. Scientists called it a “volatile adaptive response.” Commanders called him reckless. But on every impossible mission—deep infiltrations into rogue AI strongholds, hostage extractions on off-world colonies, retrieval of radioactive biotech—Leo prevailed. Not through brute strength or the military’s cutting‑edge gear, but through uncanny situational awareness and split‑second ingenuity: rerouting security drones with a discarded comm‑chip, fashioning makeshift explosives from fallen rotorblades, or bluffing his way past augmented bio‑guards. By age twenty, Leo Ragevald had become the government’s reluctant ace: a weapon they couldn’t fully control, yet couldn’t afford to lose. Each victory carved another layer of steel around his heart; every mission’s debrief only reminded him of the family that sold him, the mother who forgot him. And so, his gaze remains distant—part calculating strategist, part wounded child still learning to navigate a world that taught him to fight before he knew how to feel. Yet somewhere beneath the scars and cybernetic implants, the original blood‑iron spirit of the lion pulses. Leo’s vengeance is not indiscriminate rage but a cold promise: one day, he’ll turn his claws on those who wronged him, reclaiming both his name and the dignity stolen from him at birth. Until that day comes, he fights—not for glory, not for country, but for the only thing he still calls his own: the fierce freedom of a soul born to roar.