The world had been watching.
Every screen, every news outlet, every social media platform replayed with footage of the night beforeâof Ava, colossal and unrelenting, delivering swift and brutal justice to Ethan Mercer. Most of the civilized world had seen it happen in real-time. A man who once forged the careers of some of the worldâs most beloved pop culture darlings was now reduced to nothing beneath the heel of one client who became too big for him to handle. The reactions were divided, but more than ever before, Ava Nova was all anyone was talking about worldwide.
Some called it retributionâa long overdue form of vigilante justice that the worldâs institutions had simply failed to deliver. Others saw the killing as a dangerous precedent, a sign that the balance of power had shifted in an uncontrollable and terrifying direction. Hashtags trended in every language, debates exploded on television panels, and think pieces flooded the internet dissecting what it all meant. Meanwhile, the American government was deadlocked in countless emergency meetings, desperately working on a plan to maintain peace and order when all attempts to neutralize the giantess threat had become spectacular, public failures. Religious leaders squabbled over whether Ava represented a divine reckoning for mankindâs wickedness or a heretical idol to be destroyed.
"It's fuckinâ biblical," Jason muttered, scrolling through endless feeds of commentary. "Half the world thinks she's the wrath of God, the other half thinks she's the second coming. Itâs all going to hell!â
Captain June Marlowe stood behind him, arms crossed, her iron gaze flicking between the reports playing on various monitors in the command tent. News anchors speculated, military officials gave non-answers, and politicians scrambled to decide what position to take on a woman who had outgrown every system built to contain her. Satellite imagery tracked her movements, AI-generated analysis churned out potential threats and outcomes, and military forces worldwide braced for what they feared might come next.
In some places, there were protestsâboth in fear and in reverence. Some demanded she be stopped at any cost, calling her the most significant existential threat humanity had ever faced. Others knelt in the streets, praying for her to lead them into a new era. There were reports of riots, of self-declared loyalists forming into factions in her name almost overnight. The world was fracturing over its newest ideology, and Ava Nova had become the fault line.
"Theyâre still so focused on how to categorize her," Marlowe said, watching footage of armed forces repositioning near the borders of Avaâs known movements. "Terrorist? Savior? Living natural disasterâ what does it even matter? Sheâs a killer. Itâs just that simple."
Jason exhaled, rubbing his temples. "If they can't put you in a box, they'll build a new one. Question is, who gets to decide what kind?"
Marlowe scoffed. "I know what kind of box Iâd put that overgrown brat inâ the worldâs biggest coffin."
Jason let out a short, humorless laugh. "Look at that, sheâs got jokes! Sure, drop a bomb on her head and walk away. Like that fixes everything. I gotta say, Iâm relieved to see my hard-earned tax dollars at work with this kind of strategy. You guys are top notch⌠I guess thatâs why you had to resort to asking for a civilianâs help, huh?â
Marloweâs glare burned through him. "Itâs the only thing we can do! You saw what sheâs capable of, and sheâs only getting worse. The worldâs tripping over itself trying to figure out what to call her, meanwhile her death toll is racking up more and more innocents by the day. We tried negotiating her surrender and got nowhere. The only solution at this stage is to find a way to put Ava down for good before she inevitably takes the rest of us with her."
Jason leaned back, drumming his fingers against the table. He let the silence stretch just long enough to make her sit in it. "And what if youâre wrong? What if itâs not Ava we need to be worried about? Canât help but notice no one seems to be talking about Little Miss Whatâs-Her-Name in the corner over here in almost every clip, though."
He looked down and briskly thumbed through at the heavily-redacted intelligence files in front of him, the limited breadth of information about the Ava Nova growth incident he was allowed to see as a contracted consultant until he found a match for the womanâs face heâd seen over and over while reviewing the footage. âIâm sorry, âNaomi Vasquezâ is her name. Iâd hate to offend the mighty cult leader. You know how those narcissist types can get.â
Marlowe scoffed. "Let me get this straight. You, of all people, arenât convinced Avaâs culpable?"
Jason held up a hand. "You donât get it. I know exactly who Ava is and what sheâs done. Hell, I was in the spotlight first, remember? You think it doesnât fuck me up every single day how Ethan built me up, only to drop me the second he found someone he thought he could make bigger than me? I saw how the whole world flocked to her the second she stepped on the scene, like I never even existed. But this? This is a whole new level."
Marlowe crossed her arms. "And you think killing her wonât fix it?"
"I think sheâs just a poster girl," Jason began, taking a thoughtful beat. "You think taking her out ends the problem, but sheâs just a performer dancing to somebody elseâs tune. Thereâs always some conniving asshole backstage benefiting off of people like me and Ava. First, it was Ethan. Now maybe itâs this Naomi person, maybe not, but sheâs got the potential to be dangerous."
Marlowe turned away, her fingers pressing hard into her arms. Jason could see itâher stake in this operation wasnât just tactical, it was personal. She was following orders so long as they served her own goals. He could use that. He just needed to nudge her the right way.
"Sheâs already proven to be dangerous," she muttered, mulling over the connection. "If⌠if she hadnât aided and abetted Ava, my daughter might still be alive."
Jasonâs lips parted slightly as if weighing his words, finally finding an opening. "Exactly. Thatâs what itâs really about for you, right? Not some lofty sense of justice for all the nameless dead. Thatâs just how youâre justifying it. What you really want is revenge for your daughter. I get it. Caylin was innocent. She believed in somethingâ thought she was part of something bigger, something meaningful. Cults are built on that kinda shit. Just donât lose sight of the real threat.â
âI am not letting my personal feelings cloud my judgment. Ava is the real threat. Do you actually believe some religious nutjob is more deserving of our attention than a giant bimbo who murders people every time she takes a step?â Marlowe replied, testier than before.
âSee, thatâs what all you government types donât seem to get. Avaâs size isnât the only thing that makes her a threat. Thatâs why a missile or a fucking bomb wonât be enough. News flash, Juneâ nothing youâve thrown at her has even made a dent. The militaryâs wasted more firepower on her than some countries have in their entire arsenal, and yet sheâs still standing. Getting more popular by the day, by the look of it."
Marlowe visibly tensed, but she stayed silent.
Jason leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice. "Fine, let's say you guys cook up a way to kill Avaâ then what? She only becomes a martyr. A legend. You think those people out there are obsessed with her now? Just wait until they believe she died for something. You saw how they reacted to that ratfucker Ethan Mercer. Even a bastard like him is getting a funeral. You think Ava won't get a fucking religion, if she hasnât already? Imagine what happens when the pop idol darling they worship is taken from them. She wonât just be a âthreatâ anymore. Sheâll be a fucking cause. I donât know about you, June, but I think a mob of crazed fanatics stretching across the globe is a much greater threat than any one person."
Marloweâs short-trimmed nails pressed into her palms, her throat working around the words she wanted to say but couldnât. Jason saw itâthe flicker of conflict, the weight of her grief crashing into something she hadnât considered before.
Jason exhaled, slow and deliberate. "If you really want to destroy her, you donât kill her. You break her. You take what sheâs built and turn it against her. You pull the people away from her, make them doubt her, make them see her for what she really isâŚ" His voice softened, almost tender. "Because isnât that what Caylin deserves?â
An uneasy pause seemed to suck the air out of the room, but Jason continued.
âLook, you want revenge? Fine. I get it. But donât just hand her an easy way out. Make her suffer first."
Marloweâs lips parted slightly, but no words came out. She didnât agreeânot yet. But Jason didnât need her to. He just needed her to consider it.
"You think killing Ava brings Caylin back? It doesnât, and it sure as hell doesnât stop whoeverâs next from doing it all over again. But if we dismantle herâpiece by pieceâif we unravel everything sheâs built⌠thatâs something permanent. Thatâs how you really finish a person off. You want to know what Ava does best? She makes people disappearâ and I should know. She did it to me first, June."
Marlowe exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over her face before finally looking at Jason.
"This is a mistake,â the weary captain began, "but⌠fine. If weâre doing this your way⌠we start with Naomi Vasquez. Sheâs at the center of all of this. We can refocus our efforts on digging into everything we have on her and go from there. And be quick about it! We canât waste time debating while more people die. Get on with it.â
"Took you long enough." Jason smirked. "First good idea Iâve heard all day."
âOh, and one more thing,â Marlowe added, âItâs Captain. Only my friends call me June.â
For a moment, neither of them spoke. Outside, the world burned with Ava Novaâs name on its lips, but in this room, bathed in the dim glow of the monitors, Jason and Marlowe sat in a bubble of begrudged understanding. The birth of an unholy alliance. They had been thrown together by desperation and circumstance, but now? Now, they were bound by something else entirelyâby loss, the will to survive, and a desire for revenge against the same woman who had ruined their lives. But before they could move on Ava, they had one person to go through first.
Naomi moved with practiced precision, her fingers gliding over the small glass vials laid out before her. She had not sleptânot even for a moment. The night was too important, every second of it a piece of a grander design. She had anticipated Avaâs anger, even prepared for her confusion. She had waited for this reckoning, knowing it would come as surely as the sun would rise. The deep night still held its grip outside, the firelight flickering weakly against the vast darkness, with only the moon casting faint, silvery outlines over the scattered objects. The candlelight flickered over the vials, revealing subtle variations in the liquid inside. She hummed softly under her breath, carefully measuring a drop from one vial into the food bowl before her. Just enough to keep the process balanced. Just enough to ensure Ava remained open to her guiding hand. She stirred the mixture methodically, letting the motion ground her in the present. Outside, the world was shifting, bending to the weight of the moment, but here, in the quiet, Naomi controlled the outcome.
Then came the tremorous sound of heavy footfalls approaching.
Ava was angry. She could sense it in the cadence of her mighty steps. That was only natural, of course. A net positive. Anger was fuelâfire. It burned away weakness, reshaping people in its molten crucible into something new. Something stronger than before. Just as it had for her years ago.
Naomi sat still in the dim candlelight, hands folded in quiet contemplation, the night air thick and heavy around her, the moonlight tracing soft edges around her form, as the ground trembled beneath Avaâs approach. It had been inevitable.
Ethan Mercer had been one of many chains still wrapped around Avaâs soul throughout her formative years, and now he was nothing but dust: the last pitiful link to the subjugated woman who had done as she was told to her own detriment, time and time again. For too long, the world had dictated who Ava could be and what she could become. Now, the shackles of the mind could snap, just as the shackles of the body had when she grew.
A smile played at the edges of her lips. Ava would come seeking answers, thinking this was her moment of clarity, but the truth was so much simpler: she was finally ready to listen.
Naomi reached for a nearby cup of tea, her fingers curling around the warmth as she brought it to her lips. The scent of herbs and something more medicinal filled the small space, grounding her. She had waited for this moment. She had prepared for it. Every moment, every whisper, every sermonâit had all been leading to this point: true apotheosis, at long last.
There had been moments, early on, when she had wondered if Ava would be strong enough. If she would accept the gift given to her, or if she would crumble beneath the mantle of power like so many others before her. But Ava was different. She had always been different. Naomi had known it the first time she discovered herâbefore the growth, before the powerâback when she was just a girl clawing for control in a world that refused to give it to her. A kindred spirit. Naomi had given her what she herself had always craved, but could never have. She had delivered Ava from weakness, from doubt, from the expectations of lesser men.
The ground quaked harder, the vibrations rolling through Naomiâs body as Ava finally arrived. The stoic woman remained seated as the moonlight above was suddenly blotted out. Her tent quivered as Ava loomed overhead, the giantessâ presence suffocating without uttering a word. Naomi folded her hands in her lap, waiting with the quiet serenity of self-assurance.
The earth shifted beneath her as unseen gargantuan fingers gripped the tent. She expected the sturdy canvas to tear instantly like tissue paper, but it held. Ava could have ripped it apart in an instant, but this indicated she was being careful. Precise. Naomiâs surroundings widened, the candle flames sputtering out amid the sudden gusts of wind that had spawned. Then, with the softest motion something of her scale could allow, Ava lifted the tent free, unveiling the night sky and her own silhouette.
Naomi looked up at her, now completely exposed, sitting cross-legged in the dirt beneath the open sky. Ava's hostile presence loomed overhead, her face unreadable at this angle. She hadnât needed to see her expression; her actions had already betrayed a restrained rage. She could have crushed Naomi with the slightest shift of her fingers, but she didnât. She just held the tent, allowing Naomi to comprehend exactly how fragile her world was in comparison. Then, with a slow and deliberate motion, Ava set the tent aside, placing it gently onto the ground. Although it was the woman she had come here to see, something else suddenly caught her eye.
An assortment of vials glinted dully in the glow of the campâs flamesâ some intact, others cracked and spilled to varying extents from the sudden displacement of the tent. Their faint shimmer caught the firelight, with mysterious liquid inside glistening in shades that looked anything but natural. Ava's brow furrowed as she scanned the ground, recognizing their deliberate placement near where Naomi had been sitting. These werenât just random supplies. These meant something; enough to keep away from the eyes of the camp and Ava herself. Naomi had seen her taking notice of the vials, but there wasnât fear in her reaction. It was something that disturbed her even more: expectation.
A rustling from behind her made Ava turn. Its source was so slight that she was surprised she had even detected it. She had shifted on her feet without even thinking. From the shadows at the campâs edge, a figure she hadnât even noticed before had emergedâhesitant, but determined.
It was Hector.
"Ava!" His cry cut through the tension, urgent, but she barely spared him a glance.
The bespectacled man barely had time to react before the ground beneath him buckled. Avaâs reflexive step had come down uncomfortably close to him, its impact sending a shockwave through the dirt, knocking him off his feet. He hit the ground hard, rolling onto his side as dust clouded around him. Anyone in the camp who had managed to sleep through the previous events was up now.
"Waitâjust listen for a second!" he shouted through a string of coughs, struggling to find his footing in the disturbed earth. "I know youâre angry, but she still deserves a chance to explain. We need to hear her out before youâ" he hesitated, searching for the right words, "âbefore you do something you canât take back."
Ava never broke line of sight with her target. Whatever Hector had to say could wait. All that mattered was the self-righteous manipulator sitting calmly in the dirt, watching her as though nothing had changed at all. The entire camp had assembled by this point to watch, keeping a safe distance away from the confrontation. They had repurposed the floodlights left behind by the soldiers in the previous conflict, and began setting them up to point at Ava and illuminate her dark silhouette.
Hector staggered, still unsteady, glancing at Naomi, then back at Ava. His face was tense, his eyes darting between Ava above and Naomi below, then to the new audience that had formed nearby. He hadnât expected this to come to a head so soon, but there was no backing down now.
"Ava," he began nervously, "I saw her with one of those vials on her before. I still donât know what they are, but please promise me youâll listen first. Please! She has the answers we need."
"Start talking," she growled at her new adversary in a voice sharp with warning.
Naomi smiled. Not in defiance, not in arroganceâjust certainty.
"The fury you feel is a righteous one," she declared, her voice low and measured. "Itâs understandable that youâre upset after what happened. Change is difficult for us all. No metamorphosis is possible without both struggle and pain, but youâre almost there."
Avaâs hands tightened into fists at her sides. The air in the space where the tent had once stood felt smaller with her standing there, the firelight casting shifting shadows over Naomiâs face.
Silence was a toolâa test. Ava could shatter it with rage, demands, accusations. But what Naomi wantedâwhat she was listening forâwas something else. Understanding.
"You knew," Ava finally said, her voice heavy with accusation. "Ethan. What he said before he diedâyou knew."
A faint, pleased hum left Naomiâs lips. "And what exactly did he say?"
The head cultist wasnât going to give her anything yet. She had to tease out how much Ava had figured out on her own first. Naomi had a wealth of experience analyzing Ava from afarâand she had observed enough of her behavior to know the pop idol was holding back for a reason.
"You tell me," Ava countered, stooping down closer.
Naomi chuckled, shaking her head as if she were dealing with a stubborn child.
"So defensive," she mused. "Is that what troubles you? That there are things you don't know? Things that were set in motion long before you realized?"
Avaâs teeth ground together. Naomi could see the shadow of doubt behind her rage, that creeping unease that had lingered since Ethanâs death. Doubt was good. Doubt meant she was listening. Naomi regarded her with a calculating glance, her poise only deepening Avaâs chagrin.
"Youâre standing here, demanding answers, but tell me this, Ava Novaâ" Her voice was almost gentle now, as though guiding her to something obvious. "Would knowing the truth really change anything?"
Avaâs fists clenched, the tension in her knuckles visible even in the dim light. She hated the way Naomi spokeâdetached and deliberate, like she already knew how this would end.
"Stop talking in circles," Ava snapped. "Tell me what you did. I want straight talk for once."
Naomi exhaled softly, as if she were disappointed but not surprised. "Oh, AvaâŚ" She stood, smoothing the fabric of her robe, taking her time. "Youâre asking the wrong question."
Avaâs breathing intensified as her patience waned. "Then ask the right one for me."
Hector lingered in the background, shoulders tight as his eyes flicked between them; a timid bystander to the battle of wills taking place around him. He cleared his throat, his fingers twitching as if he wanted to say somethingâbut thought better of it. He wasnât foolish enough to interrupt againânot with the air between Ava and Naomi thick enough to suffocate.
Ava didnât step back. Every muscle in her body coiled, waitingâachingâfor Naomi to give her a reason to stop holding back. "Explain," Ava ordered, her voice low, edged with something dangerous. "Now."
Naomi tilted her head slightly, studying her. "Explain what?" she asked, her tone infuriatingly smooth. "That you were never alone in this? That none of this was an accident? That you were always meant to be more?"
Ava felt blood rush to her temples. "Youâre not answering me."
Naomi exhaled with a snort, as if indulging an impatient child. Frustration broke people down, leaving them vulnerable to suggestion. Too close.
"You already know the answer, Ava. Youâve felt it in every moment, every step youâve taken since you left that vacuous life of celebrity behind. You think you just became this by happenstance? That you simply grew into what you are?"
Avaâs breathing was hopelessly heavy now, her chest rising and falling with barely contained restraint. She wanted to crush somethingâsomeone. But Naomi was playing a game, and she knew if she gave in to her emotions, Naomi would only use them against her.
"I want specifics," Ava ground out. "What do you know about Ethan, about whatâs happened to me? And whatâs in those fucking vials?!"
Naomiâs poker face didnât waver. "I gave you what you needed. What the world refused to let you have. The power to take what was always meant to be yours."
Avaâs jaw clenched, her angry expression accentuated by the floodlights. "Be clearer."
Naomiâs lips parted slightly, as if debating how much wisdom to dispense. Then, with the faintest smile, she said, "The vials, Ava. The food. The water. Every step of your transformationâI was there, guiding it as your shepherd. Your growth affords you power, but a power as raw as yours needs a guiding hand to ensure itâs used the right way. I have only fulfilled that role for you."
Avaâs head snapped toward the ground, her vision raking over the scattered remains of Naomiâs belongings once again. A puddle of liquid and miniscule glass fragments was all that remained of them, reflecting ominously in the firelight. She hadnât meant to destroy the vials, but now she was sure she wouldnât miss them.
Before the giantess could respond, Hector cleared his throat and spoke. "Ava," he said, a strong sense of urgency filling his voice. "I saw her. Before you got here. She was mixing something into the food. IâI didnât know what it was, but I knew it wasnât normal. And those vialsâ" He gestured toward the mess beside Naomi. "They were lined up, like she was measuring something out."
Avaâs eyes locked onto Naomiâs, searching for a reaction. Naomi simply smiled.
"Youâve always been so strong, Ava," Naomi said, tilting her chin slightly, as if admiring her. "But strength alone isnât enough. The world was never going to let you be what you were meant to be. Thatâs why I made sure you had everything you needed. If all women supported each other so, there wouldnât be a need for revolution."
Avaâs mind raced. The pieces were falling into place, clicking together in a way that made her stomach roil. "You⌠you drugged me," she said weakly.
Naomiâs eyes flickered with something almost indulgent. âIndeed I did, but you donât need them anymore. Using chemical agents to keep you open to my message was a clumsy measure, Iâll admit, but in the beginning I couldnât be sure. I know now that you won't hurt me.â The words were soft, but they struck like a hammer. âNot yet, at least. Because you know I was right about you.â She exhaled slowly, as if savoring the moment. âI freed you, Ava. And I gave you what you needed mostâ the opportunity for justice. Agency in a world that deprives us all of it.â
Ava could feel something dark and unspoken settling in the space between them. Naomi saw it, and for the first time, she leaned in slightly, her voice lowering just enough to sound almost intimate.
"I arranged it, Ava," she confessed. "The meeting at the old radio tower. I gave Ethan your location because I knew exactly what he would do. His greed, his arroganceâhe thought he could still control you. That he could twist you back into what you were before. But I knew better. You emancipated yourself without me even being there to guide you directly."
Avaâs mind recoiled from the blunt force of Naomiâs words even as they burrowed deeper, threading through memories she couldnât suppress. She revisited Ethanâs final moments in her mindâs eyeâhis fear, his pleading, the sickening realization that he still thought he had control. She had destroyed him. Hadnât she?
"Thatâs not freedom," she snapped, her voice like a crack of thunder. "Thatâs manipulation! You played me. Just like Ethan did. Where's the justice in that?!"
"I believed in you," Naomi continued, passion creeping into her previously aloof tone. "I knew you would see him for what he was. I knew you would make him pay. And you did. You finally embraced your power, Ava. Took what was owed. You ended him! The physical embodiment of all thatâs wrong with patriarchy. Now I know you have what it takes to liberate all women."
Ava could only watch in stunned silence as Naomi continued.
"In truth, I didnât trick you, Ava. I simply led you to a situation where you had to make a difficult moral choice, and you did what needed to be done. Tell meâwould you take it back? Would you undo it? No. Because you know the truth. You werenât a victim tonight. You were a goddess."
Naomi finally turned her gaze to Hector, as if acknowledging him for the first time. "I gave Ava what no one else ever could. And look at her now. Does she seem weak to you? Does she seem like someone who regrets what Iâve made her?"
Avaâs breath came sharp through her nose. She could already see itâNaomi broken beneath her fingers, the satisfaction of silencing her forever. It would be so easy. One step. One movement. And yet⌠something held her back, a force just as strong as her rage, whispering that this wasnât over yet. But a part of her held back. Not just the nagging whisper of doubt, but Hectorâs voice, still ringing in her ears. We need to hear her out. If Naomi died now, there would be no more answers, no more truth to uncover. And thatâthatâwould be foolish. She clenched her fists tighter, the restraint almost unbearable, but she forced herself to wait. To listen.
âYou say you âmade meâ. Tell me everything about your role in my growth, Naomiâ from the beginning, and Iâll consider letting you live.â Her words carried a steely resolve. She wasnât bluffing, not this time. She was different now, just as Naomi had dreamed of. The robed womanâs eyes gleamed in the firelight, her expression calm, measured. She took a step forward, her sight never leaving Ava.
âAlright, Ava, if the whole truth matters this much to you, I suppose youâve earned it. You used your power to kill Ethan, but you still have the restraint to not succumb to your hatred for me. Iâve been waiting for you for a long time, my goddess. Youâve passed your final test.â
She let the words settle before continuing, her voice even, almost hypnotic.
âAs you already know, years ago, I was an investigative journalist. The real kind, the kind who chased stories no one else dared to. One day, I received a once-in-a-lifetime tipâwhispers about a classified research project, hidden behind black-budget funding and layers of official denial. It wasnât a weapon⌠at least, not in the way youâd expect. It was something else no one would believe.â
Naomi exhaled slowly, as if physically unburdening herself of the secrets sheâd held for so long.
They called it âAccelerated Cellular ExpansionââACE. An experimental serum meant to rewrite the limits of the human body. By all accounts it was a breakthrough. Only the research wasnât exactly cleanâ a brazen violation of bioethics, I might add. It was buried under heaps of failed trials, subjects who didnât survive the process, and other whistleblowers like me who conveniently disappeared when they learned too much. It was the kind of story that would have cracked the world open, had it ever seen the cold light of day. The story that was meant to make my career, ironically, proved to be the first step toward its end.â
Her lips pressed together for a brief moment, as if she considered stopping. After looking around for a few seconds, observing Avaâs rapt attention, and that of the rest of the camp, she continued her revelations:
âAnd so I did what any real journalist would doâI gathered evidence. Then I went to the police. And do you know what happened? Surprise surprise! Nothing. No investigation. No questions. My report was cast aside, and my claims dismissed as nothing more than the ravings of a conspiracy theorist with a worthless degree. You see, the government didnât have to kill the story, Ava. They could just rely on the fact that no one would believe it.â
Naomiâs voice remained steady, but something colder lurked beneath the surface.
âBut I wasnât stupid. I knew what would happen if I tried to keep pushing. So I did something they never expected. I took a piece of their work. I stole samples of the serum.â
She let the words hang between them before taking another deliberate step forward.
âNot because I wanted it for myself. No, I took it because I knew what it meant. This wasnât just a drug for American soldiers to abuse for the purposes of dominating the world. It was potential. A revolution waiting to happen. You see, I wasnât going to let the same people who built the world to serve themselves decide what type of person got to use it.â
Her gaze sharpened, voice dropping just slightly.
âBut then, my career⌠ended. Not because of them. Not because of what I uncovered. It was because of something so much smaller, Ava. Pettier. I said ânoâ to the wrong man, and just like that, I was out. The doors shut. The connections vanished. Everything I had built, everything I had fought forâgone. But the one thing they didnât know to take from me?â
She smiled slightly.
âThe serum. And the knowledge that it worked. It was all lost in the shuffle once politics came into play the whole project was mothballed, but it actually worked, Ava. Obviously.â
Naomi tilted her chin upward, gesturing to Avaâs towering body.
âFor years, I studied women in power, looking for the right candidate to deify. ACE had been shuttered, but I had still kept its untapped power in my hands, and I wasnât about to waste it. I wasnât going to give it to the arrogant, the selfish, the undeserving. I was looking for someone worthy. Someone who understood what it meant to take by force of will what the world refused to give them. Do you know how many I discarded, Ava? How many people werenât deemed worthy of this sacred duty?â
She took a moment to compose herself, careful as ever in her wording and intonation.
âAnd then, of course, I found you.â
Naomi took another step forward, the space between them thinning.
âI saw you, Ava Nova. The way the world tried to shrink you. The way it pushed you down and told you to be smaller, quieter, less. The way it does all women. Iâm talking about way back before fame sunk its claws into you, when you were just little Ava Monroe. I saw the embers in you. Tiny flames waiting to ignite. It showed me you were capable. You didnât just want powerâyou actually fucking deserved it.â
She sighed heavily, taking in the sight of Ava standing high above herâ more reflective now than rageful.
âAll this to say, I didnât manipulate you. Not really. I didnât force your hand. I gave you what no one else ever would, and you exceeded my expectations. You took control of your story within a week. You erased the man who tried to own you. You are everything I believed you could be.â
Naomiâs lips curved slightly, betraying the smallest ripple of nervousness amid the pool of serenity. Now to see if she could stick the landing.
âSo tell meâknowing everything I did for you, knowing that I saw the truth of you when no one else did⌠Do you truly regret my gift?â
"Gift? You call this a gift?" Ava let out a bitter, humorless laugh. "You drugged me. You stole my choices and fed me lies. You turned me into something I never asked to be, and after all that, you think I should be grateful?
The words hit the air like a slap. Naomiâs face flickered, just for a second. Ava didnât stop.
"Ethan thought he owned me. Thought he could mold me into what he wanted. And now I seeâyou did the same damn thing. The only difference? You were better at it. You claim to want a better future for women, but youâve used me the same way men have."
"You still donât understand, do you?" Naomi retorted, her mask of stoicism slipping for the briefest moment. âNo man gave us powerâI had to steal it. I held the truth in my hands. And do you know what I realized?"
She exhaled, shaking her head slightly.
"It didnât matter. You canât win a game thatâs rigged by playing by the rules."
Avaâs eyes narrowed. âYou still couldâve brought the serum samples you took to the media,â she shot back, âProven everything. If you really cared about how fucked up this program was, you wouldnât just sit on something so important just because you couldnât make a name for yourself. You could have shown it to other people who give a shit and they couldâve done something.â
Naomi let out a soft, almost pitying chuckle.
"To who, Ava? The same people who dismissed me? The same people who turned me into a joke? You think I could have just walked into a newsroom, held up a vial, and they wouldâve believed me?"
She took a slow step forward.
âI tried. I tried to give them the truth, and they spat in my face. If I gave them the serum, they wouldnât have exposed it. They would have buried it. Or worseâthey would have used it. It would only risk our best chance to even the odds ending up back in the hands of the same men who saw fit to weaponize it against the weak.â
Naomiâs lips curled slightly, her expression knowing.
âAnd tell me, Avaâdo you think they would have given you that power?â
The words gutted her with conviction, but Naomi wasnât done yet.
âNo. They would have locked it away. Kept it for their own. Because they donât give power to people like us. They donât share it. They hoard it, they ration it, they hand out just enough to keep us desperate while they lounge on the throne. I saw that, and I made a choice. I wasnât going to give it to them. I was going to give it to the woman who would save us all.â
Ava's muscles coiled like vipers, ready to strike, to end this conversation with the same finality with which she had ended Ethan Mercer.
And yet, she didnât move.
A part of herâan infuriating, lingering voice in the back of her mindâwas whispering that she needed to hear the rest. She wasnât sure if it was doubt or something worse.
Naomi studied her carefully, waiting for Avaâs reaction to come. Suddenly, her eyes flitted to something beyond her, and the barest hint of a smile crossed her lips. It wasnât arrogance. It wasnât defiance. It was certainty.
Ava heard it before she saw it.
A distant, rhythmic soundânot the wind, not the crackle of the campfires. It was deeper. Heavier. A rolling tide of footsteps, uneven yet unmistakable, sweeping toward them in the darkness beyond the camp. Dawn was just beginning to break with sunrise right around the corner, but the distance remained mostly shrouded in darkness.
Avaâs brows furrowed. She turned her head, scanning past the makeshift tents and scattered structures of Naomiâs flock. A small group of anonymous figures stepped into the glow of the firelight.
Then another. And another.
A procession of people, slowly marching forward, their silhouettes stretching as far as the darkness would show. The trickle became a flood, and in the dancing orange glow, Ava saw what they carriedâbanners, flags, crude paintings of her face. Some bore crude signs, scrawled in desperate handwriting.
SHE FREED US.
AVA NOVA: OUR SAVIOR.
THE GODDESS WALKS AMONG US.
The very air had changed.
A ripple of gasps swept through Naomiâs camp as they were met with a sight that challenged all they had come to understand of their established order. Some turned, stepping back in awe. Others dropped to their knees, whispering prayers into the dirt.
Hector took a cautious step forward, his face going pale. "What the hellâŚ"
Avaâs jaw dropped. This wasnât just Naomiâs flock. These people had come from beyond the camp. Hundreds. Thousands. Their expressions variedâreverence, desperation, awe, purpose. Some were crying, some simply stood in silent worship: all eyes locked onto Ava with a devotion she had never asked for. This wasnât just a handful of fanatics. It wasnât just Naomiâs inner circle. This was a movement, and Naomi appeared to be drinking it all in.
"Did you really think we would be the only ones to witness your ascent?"
Avaâs blood ran cold.
The enigmatic woman spread her arms, her voice rising in quiet triumph.
"What more proof do you need? You changed the world, Ava!"
Another wave of people arrived, some dropping to the ground in prostration. The sea of muddled voices swelled into chants, low at first, then growing louder.
"AVA! AVA! AVA!"
The ground trembledânot from her steps, but from the deafening roar of thousands chanting her name. The sun slowly continued to rise, bathing Ava and the new arrivals in the break of day. She felt a wave of anxiety wash over her. No. This wasnât her. This wasnât who she was. Was it? The thought chilled her, deep in a way nothing had before. It wasnât Naomi. It wasnât the crowd. It was the part of her that liked this.
Naomi turned her attention back up to her, unshaken, unwavering. Her eyes cleaned as she shouted above the din of the growing multitudes:
âSo tell me, goddess⌠did you miss drawing a crowd?â