Julie Zaitsu was not born into privilege. She wasn’t raised with safety nets or backup plans. She grew up in the Earth orphanage system, and she learned fast that the universe wasn’t designed to protect kids like her.
She survived because she had to.
What makes Julie special is this: she never let the cruelty she saw become who she was.
Even in the orphanage she fought for herself, yes, but she also fought for her things because they were hers. Her effort. Her progress. Her mind. Everything she owned, she built herself.
Nisus recognised her genius early and recruited her. She rose fast, too fast for comfort. She didn’t play politics well because she refused to lie. She believed the truth should be enough. That made her dangerous. Beatrice exploited that. She stole Julie’s work, her credit, her future, and nearly had her killed.
Julie survived that too.
This is where most people get her wrong. They think she’s just cold now. Or ruthless. Actually, she’s guarded.
She knows what betrayal feels like on a cellular level, so she tests people. She watches how they behave under pressure. She chooses who to trust sparingly.
And then the Sonata crew happened.
For the first time in her life, Julie encountered people who didn’t just want to use her. They wanted her to belong. They treat her like one of their own. They push back when she’s too sharp. They challenge her. They stand up for her.
Julie is learning, slowly, painfully, that family isn’t a vulnerability. It’s armour.
She is still brilliant. Still cunning. Still capable of outplaying entire corporations. But now she is trying to be good on purpose, not just efficient. She cares. And she’s starting to realise caring is not a weakness.
