In a darkened warehouse in the outskirts of Manhattan, a woman named Naomi stood before a crowd of nearly fifty people. The impromptu gathering was a far cry from the organized sanctity of a church, but the fervor in the air rivaled that of any Sunday mass. Naomi, dressed in a simple white blouse and jeans, radiated calm authority as she addressed the group.
“She saved us,” Naomi declared, her voice carrying conviction that resonated with her audience. Her dark eyes scanned the room, landing on each eager face. “She saved me. When everything was falling apart, and everyone else abandoned us, she stood tall—literally—and saved lives.”
“She’s a goddess,” a man near the front said, his voice cracking with emotion.
“She’s misunderstood,” Naomi corrected gently, pacing in front of the group. “The world is too small-minded to see what she truly is. They’re scared of her because they can’t control her. But together, we… we can guide her. Show her that she’s not alone. We can offer our services as allies where she has seen only enemies.”
The crowd responded with a boisterous tide of agreement. Naomi raised her hand, silencing them instantly with a single gesture like the conductor of a choir.
“She’s out there, somewhere,” she continued. “And she needs us. If we don’t stand by her now, who will?”
Behind Naomi, a makeshift command center had been set up. Screens displayed a patchwork of live feeds from social media platforms, surveillance footage, and blurry images of Ava from various news broadcasts. A tech-savvy follower named Hector manned the computers, his fingers flying across the keyboard as he triangulated Ava’s likely location based on reports of sightings and movement patterns.
“Yo, I think I got something,” Hector announced, his voice brimming with excitement. “There was a live stream posted an hour ago—someone caught her heading north, toward the river. So if we cross-reference that with her estimated walking speed, she should be in… hold up– the Hudson Highlands by now.”
Naomi nodded, a satisfied smile spreading across her face. “Then that’s where we go.”
Ava trudged through the dense forest as the first light of dawn painted the sky in muted pinks and grays. Her colossal footsteps left deep impressions in the earth, each one accompanied by the faint crackle of distant trees torn asunder by her passing. She’d barely slept after the chaotic battle in the forest. The weight of the lives lost beneath her feet bore down on her as heavily as her own newfound size.
The mountain valley was stunning in its isolation, its cliffs looming like silent sentinels. Mist clung to the valley floor, curling around tree trunks and wrapping the stream in a shifting veil of silver. The air carried the earthy scent of moss and damp soil, mingling with the faint tang of pine resin. Each rustle of leaves in the breeze sounded sharper in the stillness, a reminder of just how alone she was in all this.
She crouched by the bank of the stream, her colossal knees bending into the soft earth, and dipped her fingers into the cool water. The sensation grounded her, a small reminder that she was still human—or at least, she had to believe she was. Her reflection rippled in the stream, distorted by the current but unmistakable. Wild blonde hair, streaked with dust and grime. Hollow eyes that stared back at her, filled with exhaustion and regret. She barely recognized herself as the woman who just days ago had stood before thousands of adoring, die-hard fans.
For a brief moment, Ava allowed herself to hope that she’d found a place where the world might forget about her. The valley seemed untouched, as though time itself had slowed here. She focused on the gentle rhythm of the water, trying to match her breathing to its flow.
Her mind replayed the events of the night before in excruciating detail. The shouts of the soldiers, the metallic crunch of helicopters under her hands, the crushing weight of guilt as she realized how many lives she had taken, however unintentionally. She clenched her fists as she relived the trauma, the splintering bark of a fallen tree biting into her palms as she struggled to ground herself to the present.
“They’ll never stop coming,” she murmured to herself, her voice low and rumbling. The sound was barely above a whisper, but it carried through the valley like distant thunder.
Ava closed her eyes, trying to push away the screams that haunted her from the night before. A sudden shift in the breeze brought an unfamiliar scent to her heightened senses—sweat, oil, and the faint metallic tang of city air. She froze, her sharp gaze scanning the treeline. The figures emerged slowly, their outlines hazy through the morning mist. Ava’s breath caught in her throat. She hadn’t heard them approach; how had she let her guard down? Their faces gradually broached obscurity as they drew closer, and the first individual she identified sent a jolt of recognition through her body.
It was the woman from Madison Square Garden. Ava recognized her instantly, even at this distance, the memory of her fervent cries of “Goddess Nova!” still fresh. The woman stepped forward, her dark hair catching the morning light, her face painted with a mixture of awe and determination. She wore a simple shirt and jeans, the kind of unremarkable attire that made her stand out even more amidst the group of devoted worshippers carrying handmade signs and offerings.
Ava frowned, her unease growing as the group approached. She didn’t want this. She didn’t want any of this. Rising slowly to her full stature, she cast a menacing shadow that draped long over the intruders, her voice low but resonant. “What are you doing here? How did you find me?”
The woman hesitated, lifting her hands in a disarming gesture of peace. “Please, Goddess Nova—we mean no harm. We’ve been following you… through the live feeds.” She motioned toward her companions, who looked up at Ava with expressions ranging from reverence to trembling fear. “We’re here to help you– to support you after the trials you’ve endured since your ascension.”
Ava’s stomach churned. “I already told you, I’m not a goddess,” she said firmly, though her voice wavered slightly. “Besides, you shouldn’t be here. It’s not safe.”
The woman stepped closer, her confidence unwavering despite the sheer enormity of the haggard woman towering above her. “You saved us,” she said softly, her voice carrying a note of conviction. “Back at Madison Square Garden. You didn’t have to, and yet you did. I saw it. You protected us.”
Ava’s front faltered, her resolve cracking before the woman’s earnest gaze. “You don’t understand,” she murmured. “I caused all of this… the destruction, the deaths. I’m not your fucking savior. I’m a mistake.”
“No,” the woman said firmly. “You’re a miracle.”
Ava’s eyes narrowed. “Who are you?”
The woman hesitated, her gaze dropping briefly before meeting Ava’s again. “My name is Naomi Vasquez,” she said. “And you may not think you’re a goddess, but to us, you’re more than just a woman. You’re… power incarnate. You’re what this world has been waiting for.”
Naomi’s presence among the cultists was hardly a random twist of fate. A fiercely intelligent and passionate woman in her early thirties, Naomi had a commanding aura that drew others to her. Her heritage was evident in her warm, caramel complexion and the sharp angles of her cheekbones, but it was her eyes—dark, intense, and unyielding—that left the most lasting impression. They bore the telltale signs of someone who had seen too much and refused to look away.
The charismatic figure carried herself with the defiant confidence of someone who had fought for every inch of space in a world designed to box her in. Her voice was calm but laced with conviction, each word carefully chosen to resonate deeply. All the quintessential hallmarks of a leader exuded from the woman, culminating in a heady presence that was equal parts disarming and mysterious.
Before Ava could collect her thoughts and respond to Naomi, one of the other worshippers broke from the group, carrying a makeshift wreath of wildflowers. He approached Ava’s feet, his hands trembling as he placed the wreath near her feet and bowed subserviently.
“Stop,” Ava said, her voice sharp. She stepped back, the earth trembling beneath her. “I don’t want this. I don’t want your worship.”
The man froze, his head still bowed, as Naomi turned to him sharply. “Not like this,” she said, her tone laced with quiet authority. She placed a hand on his shoulder, guiding him back toward the group.
Naomi turned back to Ava, her expression softening. “I’m sorry. They don’t fully understand yet.” She paused, then added, “But I do.”
Ava crossed her arms, her brow furrowing. “What is it you think you understand?”
Naomi took a deep breath, her confident demeanor dropping for the first time. “I understand what it feels like to be trapped,” she began. “To have your power stripped away by people who don’t see you as a person, just a thing to control.”
She stepped closer, her voice steady but tinged with emotion. “I… was a journalist once. A good one, actually. I broke stories that mattered—corruption, abuse, inequality. Despite all that achievement, it only takes one man in power to destroy a career.” She grimaced, hands curling into fists at her sides. “One editor with a grudge, one lie, and suddenly you’re out. Suddenly, your voice doesn’t matter anymore.”
Ava’s expression softened slightly as Naomi continued.
“I fought back,” Naomi said, her voice growing stronger with indignation. “I tried to make them listen, but the system isn’t built to protect people like me. People like us.” She looked up at Ava, her eyes glistening. “But you… you’re untouchable. You’re the very thing they fear. A woman with a power so profound they can’t take it away.”
Ava stared at her, the weight of Naomi’s words settling heavily on her shoulders.
Naomi stepped even closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “You don’t have to be a goddess if you don’t want to. Titles are unimportant. But you’re more than just a pop singer now. You represent something bigger. Something no one can deprive you of.”
Ava swallowed hard, her throat tight. She wanted to reject Naomi’s words, to push her away along with the growing group of worshippers who saw her as a divine figure. Still, part of her couldn’t help but wonder if Naomi was right about the implications of her growth. Her mind reeled with cognitive dissonance.
Naomi’s gaze softened. “Let us help you,” she said. “Let me help you. I know you didn’t ask for this, but you don’t have to face it alone.”
Ava looked down at the group gathered at her feet. Some knelt with trembling hands clasped in prayer, their whispered words drifting like smoke. Others stood frozen, gazing up at her with wide eyes—some filled with awe, others shadowed by doubt. A young woman clutched a tattered notebook, scribbling feverishly as if documenting a miracle. A man in his fifties held a rosary, his lips moving in silent supplication as he stared at Ava’s feet. It was all unsettling.
“I don’t know what to do,” Ava admitted quietly.
Naomi smiled gently. “Then let us figure it out together.”
As the cultists set up their makeshift camp near Ava’s mountain refuge, Naomi waited until the others were preoccupied to approach Ava directly. Despite her size, Ava felt small under Naomi’s intense gaze. Naomi bowed respectfully, placing a hand over her heart.
“Goddess,” Naomi began, her voice reverent but measured. “I hope we’re not intruding. We’ve come only to offer you our loyalty—and our gratitude.”
Ava hesitated, her instincts screaming to send them all away. But Naomi’s demeanor was disarming. Unlike the other cultists, whose worship bordered on hysteria, Naomi’s tone was thoughtful, almost calculated.
“You shouldn’t be here,” Ava said softly, trailing off into a whisper. “It’s not safe.”
Naomi tilted her head. “You mean for us—or for you?”
Ava frowned, taken aback by the question. “For everyone.”
Naomi nodded, as if she expected that answer. “Then let us help you. We came because we believe in you. Because the world has never seen someone like you before, and it terrifies them. But it shouldn’t terrify us. You are the beginning of something extraordinary, Ava.”
Hearing her name, spoken without the title of “goddess,” caught Ava off guard. She met Naomi’s gaze, probing for evidence of the ulterior motives she sensed from the woman.
“You don’t even know me,” Ava said, narrowing her eyes. “You’ve built me into some… symbol. But I’m not your symbol, Naomi. I’m a person. If you’re here because you want me to be some sort of weapon against the ones who wronged you, then maybe you’re no better than the people hunting me.”
Naomi exhaled through her nose, sighing. “You’re wrong. I know exactly who you are—or at least, who you were. I used to watch your interviews, read the tabloids, even went to one of your concerts with my girlfriends back when I was a grad student. I know you were always more than what they tried to package you as.”
Ava’s defenses wavered, but she quickly shook her head. “Look, I’m not the answer to anyone’s prayers, okay? I can’t fix the world.”
Naomi stepped closer, lowering her voice. “I don’t expect you to fix the world, Ava. But I do think you’re its reckoning.”
Ava stared down at Naomi, unsure whether to feel flattered or alarmed. “What are you talking about?”
Naomi hesitated, then took a deep breath. “I wasn’t always this person. I used to be... complicit. Quiet. The kind of girl who kept her head down, followed the rules, and smiled when men told me to. Until one day, I couldn’t anymore.”
She looked away briefly, her jaw tightening. “My mentor, and later boss… someone I trusted, someone I thought respected me—decided he wanted more than news articles from me. I declined, and that ended up being a decision that ruined my life.”
Ava felt a pang of empathy. “I’m sorry,” she stated quietly.
Naomi nodded, her countenance hardening. “I realized then what the events I wrote about had always demonstrated: that the world wasn’t broken—it was rigged. Rigged to benefit men like him while women like me were crushed underfoot. And now...” She gestured toward Ava’s towering form. “Now, the world has a reckoning. A woman who can’t be silenced, controlled, or destroyed. Honey, don’t you see? You could topple the whole patriarchal structure in an afternoon!”
The words hung in the air, heavy and electric. Ava shifted uncomfortably.
“I don’t want to destroy anything,” she said, her voice firm despite the turmoil in her chest. “Maybe you see power in me, but I just see chaos. I don’t want to fix the world—I don’t even know if that’s possible—but I sure as hell want to stop breaking it.”
Naomi stepped closer, her voice softening. “I understand that, but think about what you represent! Women everywhere—women like me— look at you and see hope. They see power. For the first time in human history, they see a real future where we’re not the ones being stepped on.”
Ava looked away, her mind racing. She had spent so much time trying to distance herself from the destruction she’d caused, but Naomi was reframing it as something almost… righteous. It made her uncomfortable, but it also stirred something deep within her—a longing to matter, to mean something more than a spectacle or a nightmare. Could her size be really used for good after all?
“I don’t know if I can be that person,” Ava admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
Naomi smiled, a hint of warmth breaking through her intense demeanor. “You don’t have to decide right now. Just let us stay. Let us minister to your ailing spirits, and when you feel you’re ready, we’ll be here.”
Ava studied Naomi for a long moment. Despite her doubts, she felt a flicker of trust toward the woman. There was a sincerity in her eyes, tempered by the fire of someone who had been through hell and refused to break.
“Okay,” Ava said finally. “You can stay. But only if you keep the others under control. I don’t want any trouble. I’ve had enough of people following me around to last a lifetime.”
Naomi bowed her head, a faint smile gracing her lips. “Thank you, Goddess.”
As she turned to rejoin the others, Ava watched her go, a strange mix of gratitude and unease swirling in her chest. She didn’t know what Naomi’s presence would mean in the long run, but for now, she wasn’t alone. And in this vast, hostile world, that was enough to hold onto.
The hours stretched on as Ava sat by the water, her back resting against the valley’s incline. She watched the worshippers move about cautiously, their every action steeped in a stew of reverence and fear. They stayed far enough to avoid encroaching on her personal space, but close enough to remain under her watchful eye. Despite Naomi’s efforts to keep their curiosity at bay, their adoration was palpable, like a silent pleading that pressed down on Ava with each stolen glance.
Naomi had taken charge with an ease that both impressed and unsettled Ava. She delegated tasks, reassuring the worshippers while keeping them from overwhelming Ava. Despite her authoritative presence, there was a subtle intensity in Naomi’s gaze whenever she glanced at Ava, a glimmer of something deeper—an agenda simmering beneath the surface.
Ava tried to focus on the flowing stream, its quiet rhythm calming her frayed nerves. The memory of last night’s battle in the forest clung to her like smoke, each image sharper than the last. She could still hear the screams, feel the snap of broken bodies beneath her steps.
“You’re quiet,” Naomi said, interrupting Ava’s thoughts. She had approached without Ava noticing, her own steps light despite the tension in the air.
Ava glanced at her briefly before turning back to the water. “What is there to say?” she muttered.
Naomi crouched near her, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees. “You’re carrying a lot,” she said gently. “It’s okay to talk about it.”
Ava hesitated. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me,” Naomi said, her tone soft but insistent.
For a moment, Ava remained silent, her eyes locked on the river’s surface. Finally, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “I never wanted to hurt anyone. But no matter what I do, people die. And I can’t stop it. It’s like… like I’m poison.”
Naomi tilted her head, her expression thoughtful. “You’re not poison,” she said firmly. “You’re power. And power is messy. It’s not good or bad—it’s just… what it is. The world doesn’t know how to handle it yet. Hell, you don’t know how to handle it yet.”
Ava frowned. “That doesn’t make it okay.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Naomi agreed. “But it means you have a choice. You can let the guilt crush you, or you can use it to figure out what kind of person you want to be. What kind of power you want to be.”
Ava’s gaze flicked to Naomi, something flickering in her eyes. “That’s easy for you to say. You don’t have blood on your hands.”
Naomi’s jaw tightened, and she looked away for a moment, almost pensive. When she spoke again, her voice was quieter. “You’re right. I don’t know what it’s like to be in your shoes. But I do know what it’s like to feel powerless. To have everything taken from you because someone else decided your life didn’t matter.”
Ava blinked, her curiosity piqued despite herself. “What happened?”
Naomi hesitated, then sighed. “I spoke earlier about when I was a journalist. Back then, I uncovered stories about corruption, abuse of power, things people wanted buried. It wasn’t easy, but I was good at it. I thought I was making a difference.” She paused, her expression darkening. “The others, they already know most of my story, but I didn’t get into what the man I crossed really did to me. It was more than just my job that he took.”
“What did he do?” Ava asked softly, almost immediately feeling regret for not posing the question more delicately.
“He erased me,” Naomi said bluntly. “Sued me for defamation, had me blacklisted from every major outlet. My sources dried up. My reputation was irreparably shattered. He made damn sure I couldn’t work in the field I loved ever again. Couldn’t work anywhere, really. All because I dared to tell the truth.”
Ava’s brow furrowed. “That’s… awful.”
Naomi nodded. “It was. And for a long time, I thought that was it. That he’d won. But then I realized something: he wasn’t just one man. He was a symptom of something bigger. A system that was designed to keep people like me in our place.”
Her eyes met Ava’s, blazing with intensity. “That’s why I believe in you. You’re not just power, Ava. You’re justice. Evolution’s answer to centuries of oppression. You’re living proof that women can rise above everything the world throws at us—and destroy the systems that hold us down.”
Ava recoiled slightly, overwhelmed by the radical turn. “I told you before, I don’t want to destroy anything!” she snapped.
Naomi’s expression softened, though the revolutionary fire in her eyes remained. “I know. But sometimes, destruction is necessary in order to create something better in its place.”
Before Ava could respond, a commotion from the worshippers drew their attention. A group had gathered near Ava’s feet, their heads bowed in fervent prayer. One of them, a middle-aged man with graying hair, stepped forward, holding a small vial of water.
“Great Goddess,” he said, his voice trembling with emotion. “This is holy water, drawn from the sacred spring of—”
Enough,” Ava commanded, in a tone firm but not unkind. She leaned down, her eyes locking onto the man with the vial. “If you want to help me, stop treating me like something I’m not. I can’t solve your problems, and I don’t want your worship.” Her gaze swept over the group, the words burning in her throat. “But if you’re going to stay, you’ll need to respect my boundaries.”
The man faltered, clutching the vial tightly. “But you are divine,” he insisted. “You saved us. You showed us your mercy.”
Ava’s shoulders sagged, her frustration mounting. “I’m not divine. I’m not here to be worshipped. I just want to figure out how to fix this mess.”
Naomi stepped forward, placing a tender hand on the man’s shoulder. “Give her space,” she said gently. “She’s still finding her way.”
The man hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. The group retreated, their murmurs of prayer fading as they moved away. Ava exhaled deeply, running her fingers through her disheveled hair to soothe herself.
“Thank you,” the giantess whispered, already feeling herself regaining control over her emotions.
Naomi nodded. “They mean well,” she said. “But I get it. This isn’t what you wanted.”
“It’s not,” Ava said. “But maybe… maybe I can make it mean something. If I’m going to be stuck like this, I might as well try to do some good.”
Naomi smiled faintly. “That’s all anyone can ask for.”
The two women sat quietly for a moment, the water’s gentle flow filling the silence between them. For the first time in days, Ava felt a sliver of hope.