Jill Raynor was always a daredevil. She was an adrenaline junkie obsessed with getting her next thrill and living life perpetually in the fast lane. Skydiving, cliff jumping and drag racing - it didn't matter what it was, so long as it was fast and dangerous she had likely done it at some point. Her insane bravery would have served her well through life - if only life didn't suddenly change that one night. One burning building led to two charred lungs and a remaining life that could only be measured in seconds. But she lucked out, big time - right before she drew her last breath an ancient eagle spirit found her and merged with her soul, breathing new life into her lungs. Though she is the dominant soul in the permanent pairing, she has acquired one key trait of the eagle even when she is in complete control: an overwhelming desire to right wrongs and see justice done.

Jill Raynor was born April 11th, 1988 in Detroit, Michigan to Michael and Irene Raynor. Michael was the archetypical hard worker - though he only possessed high school education, he worked tirelessly. He often worked two jobs, almost always in a physical capacity doing manual labor or assembly line construction. Irene Raynor was a school teacher specializing in mathematics, and was able to get her degree due to the tenacity of her husband Michael. Both desired a baby boy and, at the time, were confident their first child would be a boy. They were confident enough to have a few names picked out - most notably Kyle and Jim - but were shocked to see that their sure-guess ended up wrong. She was named Jill, after Irene's grandmother.

Jill's life from then on out seemed perpetually cranked to 11. She was a loud, wild kid - often running about the house, lunging off of furniture or causing all kinds of trouble. She had a knack for getting into trouble with just about everybody. These traits made her outspoken, and many naturally gravitated to her as she had no fear in taking charge in most situations. It also meant she struggled at most subjects - especially history - and excelled at more physical pursuits. She, through a bit of luck, managed to graduate from Southwestern High School with passing grades.

Life seemed to slow down from there. Jill hadn't paused long enough to figure out she wanted to do with her life, and the financial situation both in her family and in Detroit made higher education impossible. By her own admission it was a waste of time - she never considered herself book smart, after all. She held down jobs only for months at a time between long strings of unemployment, and her desperation grew. She resisted urges to dive into criminal pursuits or to abuse substances to take her mind off the woes in life. Her father pressed for her to try to join the police force, or the military, but she found the idea of an ordered life hard to cope with. That, and she had run into trouble with the police so much that she considered it out of the question.

But life decided to speed up once more. It was April 11th - her 21st birthday. She had woken up about 3 AM on that very day, unable to sleep with her mind racing at a million miles per hour. She decided to go out for a jog to clear her mind, when the scent of ashes alerted her to a blazing home. She wasn't sure why she did what she did - perhaps it was to take her mind off of her life, or it was out of some suicidal desire to feel the rush of adrenaline a life-or-death situation gives - but she drove the front door down of that burning building, and went inside to try and find survivors. Fate was cruel; she never knew that the house was long abandoned, and that gang members had set it on fire for a sick thrill.

She didn't make it out. Or, rather, the same woman didn't come out of that burning building. Her lungs - now filled with ash and smoke - seized up and failed her. She collapsed a half-dozen feet from the exit, with charred timber falling about her form. Blackness consumed her vision, and so her chapter came to an end. But something else chose to act. A supernatural power consumed her body, and she felt 'removed' from her body. As though trapped within, something else controlled her. It drove her hands forward, forcing the damaged body to madly claw for survival before exiting the building just as it fell apart.

She saw nothing after that - total blackness consumed her vision. She would wake up many hours later out in the wilderness, lying on her back on the edge of a cliff, overlooking the sun rise. Her body felt fresh and new, completely reforged from head to toe. She had no idea what could of happened that night, at least not at first. The ensuing dreams and confusing events began to add up, however - and eventually, her newfound desire to see justice down began to grow to the point she couldn't take it. For the first time in her life, she didn't have the courage necessary to tell her family what she was doing as she managed to scrape together enough cash to head to the one place she figured she'd find answers - Paragon City, Rhode Island.

Antinanco does not know, exactly, when it came into existence. For all it knows, it has always existed. The realm of spirits was its home, and from there it was occasionally contacted or invoked by human mystics in their rituals. It was a regal creature - embodying justice, hope and martial prowess - and this status was reaffirmed as many cultures considered the eagle to be the king of all birds. However, Antinanco was a haughty beast. It believed human efforts at trying to replicate the justice it knew so well to be ultimately shallow. It was content to simply survey man - though many spirits were very active in the material plane, Antinanco felt content with sticking to spiritual affairs.

Antinanco was, of course, not the only eagle spirit. Many have come before it, and many will come after it, and many exist alongside it. But it was perhaps unique in it's solidarity and it's unwillingness to involve itself in mortal affairs. It's haughtiness and power resulted in many enemies, but it's consistency in combat made sure few would dare cross it. But as man developed, Antinanco grew furious. The spirit could see no room for growth - it, after all, embodied justice to near-perfection - and thus it began to grow sluggish and apathetic. The humans could have their glory and their pitiful efforts at replicating the mastery that Antinanco was born with.

And so Antinanco flew high within the spirit realm and forged a massive fortress from it's own energies. The walls were clad in armor and weaponry, the walls painted with great murals to it's own excellence. Here, Antinanco's ego could grow - surrounded by it's own glory, with not a single window in sight. It would forget the mortals the resided in the mortal realm, and their silly ways. Deep within this nest, Antinanco slept - the final step in it's apathy - and cared no more. Antinanco kept no track of time, and thus did not know how long it slept. It would awake many hundreds of years later.

And when it awoke, it awoke to fire and brimstone. It's prideful nest was set ablaze. The years spent in deep slumber had not only weakened Antinanco, but weakened it's reputation amongst the other spirits. It's enemies no longer feared it, and with so many years spent in hibernation, Antinanco was far too weak to defeat those that had come to destroy the spirit. In panic, Antinanco stretched it's sluggish wings, but found it could not soar as it once did. The eagle spirit struggled amongst the ruins of it's own halls, with flame-licked timber falling about it. What had it done to deserve this, it thought?

Antinanco was dying, and growing weaker by the moment. It's spiritual essence was slipping away. It had to find a solution - for it was Antinanco, King of the Skies, the very embodiment of justice. And thus it did the unthinkable - it coalesced into man's world, into the mortal realms for safety. There, it was weak and ethereal - barely able to focus. It hunted for something - anything - it could merge with. And it found something. A weak, dying human. A mortal shell slipping into death, too. The two had one thing in common - one foot in death's door. But together, they could survive. Together, they could crawl away from death.

And so Antinanco swooped in. It's own essence - it's soul - merged perfectly with the human's. The two mixed together, no longer the same person they once were. Antinanco took control immediately - and it clawed it's way to freedom. Surrounded by man's disgusting world, the eagle spirit flew far into the mountains. But the ordeal was taxing - it collapsed, out of energy, and for the first time slept for reason. What it had done was unthinkable.. but absolutely necessary. Antinanco swore revenge with it's last thoughts before slumber.

But it soon learned that something was wrong. When the fleshy human being awoke, Antinanco found it was no longer in control. She - this woman - was in control. At least for now. Antinanco was too weak, too broken to even communicate properly with the human. It was forced to use dreams and other disturbances to tell this human what had happened, to inform this human of the divine right that Antinanco wielded. Antinanco was also assaulted by other sensations - it's sense of justice had crept deep within the human's personality, driving her to pursue new goals. These goals.. they would bring back Antinanco's power and prestige. By pursuing justice and righting wrongs, the Eagle thought, it would once again grow to embody the divine justice it once did. And no longer be a shell of it's former glory.