Mimi Ersat

Mimi was born under the shimmering domes of Venus, where sunsets painted the sky with molten gold and her family’s wealth towered higher than the floating city platforms. Her last name carried weight—an empire of terraforming technology that could breathe life into barren worlds. Planets existed because her family decided they should. No one let Mimi forget that. Not her tutors, not the tabloids, and definitely not her parents.

“You’re an Ersat,” her mother would say, her voice smooth as glass but twice as sharp. “People are always watching. Be better than what they expect.”

Mimi didn’t want to be better. She wanted to be untouchable.

From an early age, it was clear Mimi wasn’t the star prodigy her family had hoped for. Her older siblings dazzled with their innovation and charm, while Mimi… well, she perfected the art of deflection. Why be exceptional when you could make everyone guess? She told one tutor she was studying intergalactic law, another that she planned to become a famous artist. By age ten, she had three different social media profiles—each with a completely different persona.

Her augment, derived from chameleon DNA, made her a natural at the game. She couldn’t fully shapeshift yet—her features always had an uncanny “off” quality—but her voice mimicry? Flawless. Mimi could turn heads in one breath and make you wonder if you’d actually heard her in the next.

Venus, with all its shimmering luxury, was suffocating. Every gala, every carefully orchestrated dinner party, felt like a test she wasn’t prepared for. So Mimi made her own fun. Gossip became her weapon of choice, wielded with precision and flair. At thirteen, she exposed a rival family’s secret marriage alliance at a charity auction. Not because she cared, but because the look on their faces was priceless.

But behind the mischief was something sharper. Mimi understood the power of perception. Her family’s monopoly on terraforming might’ve made them untouchable, but it also made them targets. She watched her parents navigate threats with icy precision, silencing whispers with lawsuits or calculated bribes. Mimi learned that control wasn’t about being the smartest or the strongest—it was about making people believe you were inevitable.

At fifteen, she was sent to Liebe Delta. Not for her benefit, but for the family’s.

“You’ll learn diplomacy,” her father had said, though his tone made it clear this wasn’t a discussion. “And keep your antics to a minimum.”

Mimi did no such thing.

On Liebe Delta, Mimi reinvented herself—several times. She registered as a Life Class Major, with minors in Legal Advisory and Cultural Liaison, but told anyone who’d listen that she was a Wind Class Flight Attendant. On Tuesdays, she wore Fire Class colors, claiming it matched her “inner chaos.” By Wednesday, she’d be discussing the ethical complexities of interplanetary trade as if she’d invented the concept herself.

Her peers didn’t know what to make of her. Some admired her boldness; others avoided her like a bad transmission signal. But Mimi didn’t care. She thrived on the confusion. Every time someone thought they’d figured her out, she’d shift gears. Change her voice. Drop a rumor. Disappear.

Beneath the drama and theatrics, though, Mimi had ambition. Real ambition. She studied late into the night, absorbing everything about the academy’s intricate systems and its many players. The whispers she started weren’t random—they were calculated. Even her petty rivalries were purposeful, testing boundaries and identifying weaknesses.