The Whispered Child was born to be molded and crafted into the perfect weapon. Its father was a Warlord, a leader of a tyrannical zealous cult in a faraway land. its mother was an assassin, devoted only to the cause of lethal perfection. Out of some misguided belief that their child would inherit both of their talents and predilections towards evil, they came together in an unholy union. And so the Whispered Child was created, its destiny laid out before it by its parents.

The Warlord and the Assassin had no love for each other but they raised the child together, both of them united in their interest to see the progress of their spawn. They had two distinct philosophies that blended nicely together. The Assassin would teach the Child to turn its body into a weapon. The Warlord would turn the Child's body into a weapon for it.

A unique draw of this vile experiment was the utter deprivation of spoken and written language. The Assassin's idea. Instead, the Whispered was taught to communicate entirely through body language. The parts of the brain responsible for communication was nurtured in a different way that would make pediatrics everywhere roar in outrage. They never spoke around it. They communicated silently but effectively. It learned to read muscles and twitches instead of the alphabet. It spoke with its eyes and its posture instead of its mouth.

It was not the only Child, but it was the favorite. It was not the first Child, but it was the most special. Indeed the Warlord had kidnapped many boys and girls from different places in hopes of turning them into his perfect weapon. All of them were moderately successful, sure, he was a master warrior in command of a loyal league of black operators. But he held no attachment toward them. The Whispered Child, however, was of his own flesh and blood. The Assassin felt much the same way. It became their obsession. Though the two had cared little about anything other than themselves, in their own twisted and cruel way they came to truly care about the Whispered Child and its upbringing. They wanted to see how far they could push it. It was to be their legacy. A new bloodline of born, silent warriors. As long as they remained in control, of course. Never would they give it too much agency.

While the Assassin perfected the teachings of its martial artist, the Warlord saw fit to augment the Child's body in unimaginable ways. He forced it to battle the other Children, his other soldiers. He calculated every weakness and contrived surgical solutions. Its body was twisted by occult science, flesh that was not its own was bound into its. He made stretched the Child. Inserted vertebrae where none were previously. He made it able to twist its own form in ways that would make contortionists blush. Some experiments that were not a success were remedied with removal or improvements. How many times did he open up the Child? It lost count.

The Whispered Child was given no chances to develop a personality. Its individuality was to be cleansed out of it. The Warlord purposefully weakened its mind against psychic defences so he could assert his will over itss with mind control. It would be his obedient weapon, an extension of his own will.

But there was a flaw in his plan. The Child kept its truest, darkest thoughts to itself. It came to master the understanding of human emotion in ways not even the Assassin could have predicted. The more it learned, the more it learned. it saw the Warlord's inner weakness, his gnawing fear of mortality and dread. It saw the Assassin's desperate, cloying attempts at wealth and security. It saw the others Children's fear of failure, their stunted souls. It saw the way the soldiers looked at it, with fear and with pity. It saw the way some of them cared deeply for those who were far away. Even in the darkest, cruelest of places, humanity existed in some form. The Whispered clung onto those scraps. It found the most interesting soldiers and watched them intently. When they did, and didn't know it was there. The Child began to outpace its mother and fatits. It could elude their detection and return before they realised it was gone, if it timed it just right. It heard its first word when it was 12, a soldier asking another for a smoke. A simple act of kindness. They existed, even itse, and they were alien to it. The curious Child wanted more. But it kept its cards close to its chest. If their perfect Child was not given a soul, then it would create one for itself. It became obsessed with finding any clues to the outside world. Art, music, stories. Not the false things the Assassin created that were really just training manuals in disguise. True things created out of passion for more than just violence.

The experiments and training continued for years. It fought and battled the other Children and constantly bested them. It knew their frustration, their hatred of it. Their digust of her twisted form. The Warlord and the Assassin were enthralled and proud of their creation, their abomination. As it matured, its mind developed, and its spirit grew. Not fast enough. The time had arrive. It was sent on its first mission when it turned 16. The Warlord placed a spell on it, compelling its return.

It completed it flawlessly. It killed the target in the middle of an armed compound, and the alarm would not go off until morning, for nobody knew the target was missing. It killed no one else. It knew little about the target, but in the brief moment it ended his life, it got a picture of the stranger. 46 years old, balding, a developing cancer in his prostate not even he knew about yet. Brusque, business oriented. He had killed before both directly and via orders, and the death of his men weighed on his conscience. He was tired that evening, and looking forward to going home to those who loved him. He never would. As he felt its lithe, long arms wrap around his neck it literally felt his terror, his fear. The sorrow ached. It felt it, too. It could see his own death. It might as well have experienced death with him. There was a snap, a struggle to breathe and a horrible agony, and then a final stillness. Then it was over. It was terribly anti-climactic and impersonal. His life was over and it was responsible. Tears streamed down its face and its heart was heavy. The Assassin and the Warlord never expected their monster to have a soul. In their arrogance they failed to realise how granting a weapon the ability to truly understand those around it would affect it.

On that day forward, it...no, SHE, began to plan her escape. The plan would need to be carefully executed. Being discovered by the Warlord would mean mental domination and re-evaluation. Her kindness could never be discovered.

Needless to say, her plan worked. She was no longer under the control of her malevolent creators. They created the perfect weapon and lost control over it, as so many had before them in so many different ways. Only she was determined not to become some cautionary tale. She travelled alone in the wilderness and eventually found a town, and then a large city.

The place was a joy. She loved it. She wanted to be there and live amongst it, forever. She yearned to be so casually accepted, but her social graces were non existant. She would have to learn to replicate how they walked and talked. The light was beautiful, but it hurt her eyes. She consumed as much visual media as she could.

She was homeless, and used her skills to not survive, but thrive. All it took was a bit of investigation and the city became her playground. She couldn't read the signs but she could smell the food. The crowds were overwhelming but provided ample opportunity. She made friends with the animals, but the other homeless were afraid of her.

Eventually she crept into a place she had deduced to be a place of learning, the library. There the kindly old librarian, her eyesight fading, was nice to her. This was a place known as a community outreach center. In this strange city even someone was bizarre as her could be welcomed with the right mindset.

The lost child found great pleasure in exploring the city. But one day, there was a terrible car accident. She heard a bay, crying. She knew the car was going to explode, and she knew those around her were too scared to act, and unsure of even how to help. So she helped. And it almost went bad. There was an explosion, but the baby, the mother, and the father, all survived. As she cradled the crying baby, she understood it's fear and resonated with it, and he quickly stopped crying.

But it didn't go fully as planned. The flames had sheered off some of her clothes. Her torso platelets opened and closed, exhaling clouds of moist air into the city's cold night. A piece of metal had lodged itself in her back, and her blood flowed freely down it. The people nearby, who came to check up on her and the baby , saw her wounds. Most of them were naturally repulsed by her disgusting form, she knew. But all of them cared for the baby by instinct. And they saw her wounds and though some of them shied away, most of them came to help. They checked up on her. They kept repeating a word, over and over again. She didn't understand english perfectly, but she got the gist.

"Are you okay?" They asked her. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," she replied. "Yes. I'm...I'm... o...kay."

Not long after that, White Wood academy used it's extensive resources to locate the mysterious girl roaming the streets late at night. They offered her a position there, a new life, a chance at something...normal. Of course she knew they were telling the truth, even if some of them were insecure about it. They asked her questions. Tried to gauge who she was, where she had come from.

"I'm o...kay," she replied with a nervous smile. "I'm okay."

The name stuck. O'kay was born that day. Given her weak knowledge in the spoken languages, she is pleased that she was able to craft such a pun so quickly. People called her Kay, for clarity's sake.

Body Modifications: The Whispered Child is a cyborg of twisted flesh and knotted bones. O'kay has had many invasive surgeries that grant her powers.

Eyes Like a Cat: O'kay posesses the ability to see in the dark. She has a third, translucent eyelid that she can use to see while protecting her eyes from particles and damage.

Subdermal Weave: Many parts of her body have been implated with a subdermal weave that grants resistance to damage, even allowing her to resist bullet penetration.

Strengthened Skeletal Structure: As well as being more flexible thanks to additional joints, chemical compounds were added into her bones to make them heavier and more difficult to break.

Adjusted Muscular Composition: To accomodate for her many "additions" to her bone structure her muscles were changed. Her grip strength is particularly impressive. If hanging upside down, she expends no extra energy.

Extendable Talons: Her finger and toe nails look normal, but upon closer inspection are actually extendable claws she can use to attach herself to otherwise solid objects.

Secondary Air Intake: Armored flesh platelets grant enhanced protection to her ribs, but they can also partially open up. She can breathe directly into her lungs this way. She also has extremely enhanced stamina beyond just her advanced cardio training, able to hold her breathe for an hour. They also naturally filter out harmful substances like poison.

Advanced Hearing: Kay can hear extremely well, especially when she limits the input of her other senses. Her ears are more resistant to damage from shockwaves and loud noises. This, combined with Secondary Air Intake, allow her to use echo-location to scan her environment. As well as doing a discombobulating shriek.

Full Body Control: Every subconscious routine of the human body, O'kay can manually override. From adrenaline production to pain detection to even her own heartbeat, she can stop and start them at will.

Joint Hypermobility: Surgery has granted her the ability to manipulate her body in creepy but versatile and useful ways. Contortionism is already one of her natural talents but the re-alignment of her skeletal and muscle structure allows her to take it to the next level, with double jointed arms and legs.

Advanced Regeneration: Kay regenerates from wounds far quicker than most people.

Emotional Trigger: The Whispered Child has the ability to give off 'vibes' with her body. Her body language is expressive on a subconscious level that cannot be easily explained. The main application of this, however, is that Whispered Child can trigger the fear reflex in people that look at her, should she so choose. Even brave, courageous, or hardened people will find their minds afflicted by fear should she undergo the invisible transformation.

Most Lethal Martial Artist: O'kay has been prepared since the moment she was concieved to be a killing machine. She is fluent in too many styles of hand to hand combat to count. She has already surpassed some of the worlds most lethal assassins and her potential has yet to be even close to fully tapped. With further training, discipline, and focus, she could become the most dangerous fighter, ever.

Master of Stealth and Speed: O'kay sticks to the shadows like a bat. She can be completely, 100% silent when she walks. In combat she can be hard to trace with one's eyes, like a mosquito in a dark room. She can hide in places where there should be no place to hide. One could mistake her for having the ability of short range teleportation, but this is just her talent for decieving the mind and eye.

Master Markswoman: Kay can aim ranged weapons, of all kinds with impossible accuracy.

Above Her Weight Class: It may be tempting to think that one could overpower Kay with weight and sheer strength, but one would be wrong. While she is already very strong, her techniques allow her strikes and throws to hit with power that seem superhuman.

Like a Book: The keenest and most unique advantage Kay has, the one entirely exclusive to her. The ability to read body language in a fight. With this ability she can anticipate her opponents moves and intentions, their feints and their follow throughs. She can gauge their prowess in a matter of moments, and learn the strengths and weaknesses of their techniques. This skill is so keen she can be aware of her opponents next move before they are. The subtle, imperceptible give-aways of the human body. Even beyond the human body- the same skill applies to animals. Everyone and everything is communicating it's true intentions to her, especially when in the middle of combat. As a result she can accurately tell what other people are feeling. And she is a nearly infallible human lie detector. In this same way she is able to mask her own intentions and tells, making her immune to someone attempting to mimic her techniques, and making her all the more unpredictable, uncanny, and inhuman in a fight.