The storm clouds churned overhead, their dark mass mirroring the turmoil within Minka. She stood alone at the edge of the platform, the wind tugging at her jacket, her wavy brown hair whipping around her face. The horizon was a smear of gray and silver, a desolate reflection of how she felt inside.
Her hands tightened around the edges of the railing, her knuckles white as a cascade of doubts crashed through her mind. In the stillness, fragments of the recent confrontation with Ravager played over and over like a broken record.
The way Ravager moved—effortlessly, like an unstoppable force of nature. The sheer, overwhelming psychic power she unleashed. Minka clenched her teeth, the memory still raw. Ravager had barely acknowledged her presence in that battle. She hadn’t needed to. Next to Ravager’s unrelenting might, Minka had felt… insignificant.
What am I even doing here?
She released a bitter laugh, the sound swallowed by the howling wind. The question had haunted her since the beginning, but now it felt sharper, cutting into her with every thought. Ravager was the embodiment of power and purpose, a storm given flesh. And what was Minka? A soldier? A daughter? A piece on a board manipulated by forces far beyond her control?
“Minka?”
The voice was soft, warm, and familiar. Minka didn’t turn at first, unwilling to let anyone see her like this. But Leanna’s presence was impossible to ignore. She approached slowly, her movements deliberate, as though afraid to startle her.
“Minka,” Leanna said again, her tone gentler this time. She stopped a few steps away, giving her the space she needed. “I know that look. What’s wrong?”
Minka finally turned, her green eyes meeting Leanna’s blue ones. She tried to muster a smile, but it faltered before it could take shape. “I’m fine,” she said, though her voice lacked conviction.
Leanna frowned, her concern deepening. “You’re not fine.” She stepped closer, placing a hand on Minka’s arm, her touch firm but comforting. “Talk to me.”
Minka looked down, her hands tightening around the railing. “It’s just… I don’t know if I can do this,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “Ravager… She's so far beyond me. And I’m supposed to be the one to stop her? It’s laughable.”
Leanna’s grip on her arm tightened slightly, a silent reassurance. “Minka, listen to me,” she said softly. “You’re not Ravager. And that’s not a bad thing.”
Minka let out a bitter laugh. “It feels like one. She’s strong, Leanna. So strong that I might as well not even exist when she’s in the room. How am I supposed to fight that? How am I supposed to matter in any of this?”
Leanna’s heart ached at the raw vulnerability in Minka’s voice. She moved closer, gently pulling Minka into a hug. “You matter, Minka,” she said, her voice steady and filled with warmth. “You matter more than you realize.”
Minka stiffened at first, unused to such open affection, but Leanna didn’t let go. She held her tightly, as though trying to shield her from the storm both outside and within. “You don’t have to be like Ravager,” Leanna continued, her tone soothing. “You have something she doesn’t. Something none of us have.”
Minka pulled back slightly, her green eyes searching Leanna’s face. “And what’s that?” she asked, her voice trembling.
Leanna smiled, her expression soft and full of love. “You have the ability to bring people together. To inspire them. Ravager is strong, yes, but she’s a storm. She destroys everything in her path. You? You’re the one who builds. Who gives people hope, even when things seem impossible.”
Minka’s gaze dropped, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her jacket. “I don’t feel like I’m inspiring anyone right now.”
Leanna cupped Minka’s face gently, forcing her to look up. “You inspire me,” she said firmly. “Every day, you remind me what we’re fighting for. And I know I’m not the only one. You have a light, Minka. Even if you don’t see it, the rest of us do.”
Minka blinked, her vision blurring with unshed tears. “Leanna, I…”
“You’re not alone in this,” Leanna said, her voice unwavering. “I won’t let you do this alone. Whatever happens, we’ll face it together.”
Minka nodded slowly, the weight in her chest lifting slightly. She didn’t have all the answers, and the doubts still lingered, but Leanna’s words had planted a seed of hope. Maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t as powerless as she thought.
As the storm began to abate, Leanna kept her arm around Minka’s shoulders, guiding her back toward the shelter of the base. “Now,” Leanna said with a playful smile, “let’s get out of this weather before you catch a cold. Can’t have our future hero sneezing all over the place.”
Minka laughed softly, the sound tentative but genuine. For the first time in a long while, she felt like she could breathe again. Leanna’s warmth was a beacon in the darkness, a lighthouse guiding her home.
Suddenly her communicator rang. "One second." She says. She then pressed it and heard Sannet: "Sannet?" Minka asks: "What is it?"
"Minka, we need to talk... in person." Sannet said. "It's urgent."
The room was dark and silent as Sannet waited for Minka to arrive. Her mind was racing, trying to figure out the best way to break the news to her friend. With Minka also came Leanna. Both of them stood together side by side.
The room felt suffocating in its silence, the dim light from the console casting flickering shadows on the walls. Sannet stood before Minka and Leanna, her expression a careful mask hiding the storm of emotions brewing within. Her light blue eyes betrayed her turmoil, flicking between the two young women who had unknowingly been drawn into a story far older and darker than they could imagine.
Minka folded her arms, her emerald green eyes narrowed with suspicion. “You called us here. What is it you need to tell us, Sannet?”
Leanna, standing slightly behind Minka, placed a steadying hand on her friend’s shoulder. Her gaze was softer, filled with concern. “Sannet, if it’s about the Archivist, we deserve to know. You’ve been holding back, and it’s time to stop.”
Sannet’s lips pressed into a thin line as she exhaled slowly. “It is about him,” she admitted, her voice low, almost reluctant. “But it’s not just about what he’s done. It’s about why he became what he is. To understand him, you need to know where he came from.”
Minka tilted her head, her suspicion giving way to curiosity. “Where did he came from? What does that mean?”
Sannet took a step back, leaning against the edge of the console. “The Archivist… before he became what he is, he was a variant of someone you know well. His name was Trazyn.”
Leanna’s eyebrows shot up, her blue eyes widening in surprise. “A variant? Like another version of him?”
“Yes,” Sannet said, nodding slowly. “But unlike Trazyn, this version didn’t devote himself to preserving history for the sake of knowledge. He had a different purpose—a darker one. And it all started with someone named Eden.”
Minka frowned, the name unfamiliar and strange on her ears. “Eden? Who’s that?”
Sannet’s gaze softened, and for a moment, her carefully constructed walls cracked, revealing a glimpse of the pain she carried. “Eden was his wife,” she said quietly. “She was… everything to him. She grounded him, made him more than just a being obsessed with power and knowledge. But she was taken from him.”
Leanna’s voice was gentle, laced with curiosity. “Taken how?”
Sannet hesitated, her hands curling into fists at her sides. “She was killed. By someone… someone he couldn’t protect her from. And when she died, it broke him.”
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
The weight of her words settled over the room like a heavy shroud. Minka shifted uncomfortably, her expression a mix of confusion and unease. “So… what? He lost someone he loved, and now he’s destroying worlds because of it?”
“It’s not that simple,” Sannet replied, her tone sharper than she intended. She took a breath, forcing herself to calm. “When Eden died, he didn’t just lose her. He lost his purpose, his reason for being. He became consumed by the idea of bringing her back—of defying death itself. That obsession is what turned him into the Archivist.”
Leanna frowned, her compassionate gaze fixed on Sannet. “And you’ve known this all along?”
Sannet nodded, her voice quieter now. “I’ve known for a long time. But there’s more you need to understand. The Archivist isn’t just fighting for his own twisted goals. He believes what he’s doing is right. In his mind, the ends justify the means. And that makes him even more dangerous.”
Minka ran a hand through her hair, her frustration evident. “So why are you telling us this now? What do you expect us to do with this information?”
Sannet straightened, her expression hardening. “Because it’s time you understood the stakes. The Archivist isn’t just a threat to this world—he’s a threat to all worlds. And if we don’t stop him, no one will.”
"But isn't this what the Ravager was doing? She's stopping him at all costs." Minka asks.
“She will do anything to kill him...This world for her is just a battle ground. Nothing more. She will not care if the whole world were to burn to ash."
Leanna stepped forward, her voice filled with determination. “Then we have to find another way. A better way. One that doesn’t involve sacrificing everything we hold dear.”
Minka nodded in agreement, her eyes meeting Sannet’s with renewed resolve. “We’ll stop him, Sannet. Not for Ravager, but for everyone else. And we’ll do it without losing ourselves in the process.”
Sannet’s silence stretched unbearably in the room, her light blue eyes flickering with emotions she struggled to contain. Minka and Leanna stood before her, their gazes searching her face for answers she didn’t want to give. The weight of the revelation she now carried bore down on her, threatening to crush her resolve.
“You said you know who killed Eden,” Minka prompted, her voice steady but tense. “So who was it? Who caused all of this?”
Sannet shifted uncomfortably, her hands clasping tightly together. She had always prided herself on control, on maintaining a stoic façade, but this moment threatened to undo her. “I only just found out,” she admitted, her voice softer than usual, almost hesitant. “And it’s... complicated.”
Leanna stepped forward, her blue eyes filled with compassion. “Sannet, whatever it is, we’ll deal with it together. Just tell us.”
The kindness in Leanna’s voice made Sannet’s chest tighten. She glanced at Minka, whose emerald eyes blazed with determination, then back at Leanna. How could she tell them? How could she tell her? The truth threatened not just to fracture their resolve but to pit them against each other. And that was something Sannet couldn’t bear to see.
“I don’t know how to say this without…” Sannet hesitated, struggling to find the right words. “Without making everything worse.”
Minka frowned, stepping closer. “Sannet, we can handle it. We need to know. Who killed Eden?”
Sannet’s voice trembled as she replied, “It’s… it’s a version of Nova.”
The words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. Leanna’s breath hitched, her eyes widening in shock. “Nova?” she echoed, her voice barely above a whisper.
Sannet looked away, unable to face her directly. “Not your Nova,” she clarified quickly. “A variant from another dimension. But the resemblance… It's unmistakable. The actions of that particular Nova set everything into motion. She believed Eden needed to die to prevent a greater catastrophe.”
Leanna’s expression shifted, a storm of emotions crossing her face—confusion, anger, disbelief. “You’re saying my mother, or some version of her, is responsible for all of this?”
Minka, standing silently, processed the revelation with a growing sense of dread. “But why? Why would anyone make that choice?”
Sannet turned to her, her voice tinged with sorrow. “Because she thought it was the only way. … Eden’s existence posed a threat to something larger. ”
Leanna clenched her fists, her voice trembling with suppressed emotion. “And you’ve been sitting on this information? You didn’t think I deserved to know the moment you found out?”
“I only learned the truth just now,” Sannet replied, her tone sharp with her own frustration. “And I told you because I couldn’t keep it from you, not because I wanted to tear you apart.”
Leanna stepped back, shaking her head as if trying to process it all. “You’re asking me to believe that my mother—or a version of her—killed Eden. That her actions created the monster we’re fighting.”
Sannet’s gaze softened, her light blue eyes filled with regret. “I didn’t want to tell you, Leanna. But you deserved to know. Both of you did.”
Minka broke the tense silence, her voice steady but filled with an undercurrent of doubt. “So what do we do with this? Do we find this Nova? Confront her?”
Leanna’s jaw tightened, her resolve hardening. “If she’s anything like my mother, I need to know why she did it. I need to hear it from her.”
Sannet raised a hand, her tone warning. “Leanna, this isn’t about vengeance. That Nova isn’t the person you knew. She’s a variable in a larger equation, one that we barely understand. If you go after her with anger—”
“I’m not angry,” Leanna interrupted, though her voice betrayed a flicker of emotion. “I just need to know the truth. To understand.”
Minka placed a hand on Leanna’s shoulder, her grip firm. “Leanna, we’re with you. But let’s be smart about this. If we’re going to find her, we need a plan.”
Sannet looked at them both, her heart heavy. “I don’t know where she is. But if she’s anything like Nova… she won’t be easy to approach.”
“I’ll need a moment.” Leanna went to the balcony. And Minka followed soon after.
Leanna's hand gripped the railing of the balcony, her knuckles white with tension as she stared out at the city below. The night air was cold and sharp, biting through her clothes and stinging her cheeks. She barely felt it.
“Whoever Sannet was talking about, she is not aunt Nova. Not our Aunt Nova.” Minka says. “She is a different person.”
Leanna could hear the words, but they felt distant, muted. She tried to swallow the anger and confusion that surged within her, but it was a tidal wave she couldn't hold back: "How do you feel about Knight? She wears Aunt Monika's face after all."
Minka hesitated, her eyes narrowing as she looked at Leanna. The question was blunt, and she could see the pain behind it—the frustration and sense of betrayal Leanna was feeling at that moment. It wasn’t just about the revelation of a version of Nova; it was about the unshakable resemblance, the uncanny familiarity. How could they fight against a person who looked so much like the one they loved?
Minka took a breath, her voice quiet but sincere. "Knight... she’s different too. At first, it felt strange—like seeing a version of my mom without her warmth. But I’ve realized that she has her own role, her own purpose. She’s not Monika, and I don’t expect her to be. Just like this other Nova—she’s not our Nova."
Leanna turned her head slightly, glancing at Minka. There was a vulnerability in her eyes that Minka rarely saw, and it hit her like a punch to the gut. She reached out, placing a gentle hand on Leanna’s arm. "It’s not easy," Minka continued. "I know it’s hard to separate them—especially when they look so similar, when everything in you wants to believe they’re still the same. But we can’t let that blind us to the truth."
Leanna’s grip on the railing loosened, her fingers slowly relaxing. She closed her eyes, her breath misting in the cold air. "It just... it just feels wrong," she admitted, her voice breaking. "The idea of facing her... knowing she has my mother’s face, her voice. I don’t know if I can do it, Minka."
Minka nodded, her expression softening as she stepped closer. "Then you don’t have to do it alone. We’ll figure this out together. Whatever we learn about her, whatever we find—we’ll face it, side by side. I promise."
Leanna opened her eyes, looking down at Minka’s hand on her arm. A small, hesitant smile tugged at her lips. "You always know how to say the right thing, don’t you?" she murmured, her voice filled with affection.
Minka chuckled softly, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. “I don’t know about that. Most of the time, I’m just making it up as I go.”
Leanna smiled, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. “Well, whatever you’re doing, it works.”
The two stood there for a moment longer, the silence between them comfortable now. The city lights below shimmered like scattered stars, a reminder of the lives they were fighting to protect.
Minka spoke again, her voice quieter this time, almost hesitant. “Leanna, I’ve been thinking about something… about what it means to be strong. I keep comparing myself to Ravager. She’s so powerful, so fearless. And then there’s me. I don’t have her abilities or her experience. Sometimes I wonder if I’m just… in the way.”
Leanna frowned, her expression softening. She placed both hands on Minka’s shoulders, forcing her to meet her gaze. “Minka, stop. You’re not in the way. You’re the reason we’re all still standing. Ravager may have her power, but you have something she doesn’t—you bring people together. You give us hope, and that’s something no amount of power can replace.”
Minka felt a lump rise in her throat, but she swallowed it down, nodding. “Thank you, Leanna. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Leanna grinned, her usual playful spark returning. “Well, for starters, you’d probably be freezing out here all night. Come on, let’s get back inside before we turn into popsicles.”
They turned and headed back into the warmth of the house, their footsteps echoing softly in the quiet corridor. Minka felt a little lighter now, the doubts still present but no longer overwhelming. Leanna’s unwavering support was like a lifeline, pulling her back from the edge of her insecurities.
As they walked, Minka glanced at Leanna, a thought nagging at the back of her mind. “Leanna,” she began, her voice tentative, “if we ever have to face her—the other Nova—what will you do?”
Leanna’s expression grew somber, but she didn’t hesitate. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “But I do know this: no matter who she is or what she’s done, I’ll stand by you. Always.”
Minka smiled faintly, her heart swelling with gratitude. She didn’t have all the answers yet, but she knew one thing for certain—she wouldn’t face the challenges ahead alone.