{6,000BCE}

Celindria sat on the floor of the shower in Xelan’s stronghold, the blood long washed away. She hugged her knees to her chest, buried her face in them, and cried.

This was always the worst moment of Celindria’s lives.

Our baby. We killed our baby.

It had to be done. It must always be done.

We will never know if she’d have Nox’s eyes and our skin. His smile and our nose. Strength and grace—

Please. Please stop.

When the multitude of her voices ceased, Nox’s voice invaded the vacuum. “Celindria, rule Earth and Cinder with me. We can raise our daughter together. We could lead together.”

Next came her awful retort. “Conceived in rape. Cultivated by a monster. A history of violence so erratic that you almost killed your own brother. What kind of father would you make?”

Nauseated by her own words, Celindria rolled to her side and vomited into the drain, tears and blood along with it—A wash of blue, red, and yellow.

The way Nox’s throat tightened when he begged Celindria to stop and the venom in her hateful, digging spur. “You soft creature.”

Celindria screamed. She shrieked and clawed the horror out of her forearms. Thrashed and pulled her hair out.

Yet she would never ask ‘why.’ The answer was always the same.

Power.

Nox deserves better.

Everyone deserves better. That’s why we bring them to Paradise.

What would father make of our Paradise?

Xelan’s kind kiss lingered on Celindria’s forehead from when he’d stopped and confronted her. “Was it Nox’s child?”

She’d confirmed the truth and ignored the ugly impulse to let Xelan believe Nox had caused the termination.

Never.

Celindria wouldn’t let anyone believe that of Nox. Not for sport, nor for spite. Nox always made for a wonderful father, and she would not let anyone think otherwise.

Father would never understand, so Celindria would make the worlds understand.

Bring them to Paradise and make Nox strong enough to withstand the trials ahead.

Yes.

But what about the one?

Celindria’s eyes fluttered closed as she let herself breathe for a second—a mere second—in the Probability where she’d refused power and gave into love.

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One Probability where Celindria and Nox raise their beautiful daughter together.

A cool spring breeze touched her face, smelling of her favorite orange blossoms. There were clouds, not Li, in the sky. Tiny laughter tinkered nearby, followed by the heavy chuckle of a proud father. If Celindria could only stay here a little while longer…

A single breath. Then Celindria returned to all the realities without little Surra. The air here was hotter, heavier. It stank of ash and impossibility. Hatred.

This was where Celindria thrived.

{Now}

Monarch 3 in Paradise was a gaseous farm—Kilometers of gigantic trees occupied with busy worker drones. The Queens lived in luxury, all at Celindria’s hand, of course. She granted most every request presented by the lady insects—Earnest in reminding them that this was a mutually beneficial arrangement.

Control the queen, control the hive. Much less work for Celindria in the long run to claim volition of their rulers from the start. How she’d gained control varied across each Probability. For Paradise, Celindria had recently cured a hive from blight death. In the Queen’s delirious gratitude, she’d repeated Elden’s Tenements of Volition.

Easy enough.

The dominant Probability had proven more resilient, as in all things. Unlike here in Paradise, in the dominant Probability, there was enmity between the Celindria and F8, something Celindria detested.

When one was a goddess of their realm, they need but travel to the enemy’s fortress and walk inside. Everything in Paradise was in the same position as in the dominant Probability, including the shadows.

Within Paradise, Celindria stood inside F8’s hive. After a step into the shadows, Celindria stood inside F8’s hive of the dominant Probability. Billions surrounded it, all under Celindria’s command, ready to tear the wings off this aggressive butterfly.

When Celindria and Remorse had established the gas factory beneath the Queen’s Fare, she’d implanted those queens with volition protocols. It had proven a worthwhile investment. Out and out, the trees and their hives stretched. Billions and billions. All the drones had awakened this morning under Celindria’s command.

We are brilliant.

Yes, the others will fall quickly.

But first, a proud woman must relinquish it all.

The brave King Elect of Monarch 3 kept her voice steady as she assured Celindria, “The emperors will stop you, abomination.”

“They will never see me coming.”

F8 stood from her throne and put her fist to her chest, facing destruction and she was fierce still. No wonder they were friends in Paradise. With her chin held high, the proud insect queen said, “Xelan will never see these worlds diminished to you.”

Stood in the middle of an impregnable hive, Celindria let the colors and fog obscure the shift of Atramentous in her gaze. Pleased with her own success, she said in one deep pitch, “Father will, or he will see them diminished to nothing.” She crossed the room, billowing wafts of pheromone smoke in her wake until she stood within inches of F8’s tiny frame. Celindria said, “Tell me the words I want to hear, and I’ll let your people live.”

F8 sought something in Celindria’s Atramentous eyes before frowning. There was pity in F8’s facets as she said, “You have crossed the line, child. There will be no coming back.”

“Old friend, I crossed it long ago.”

We must kill her soon. No one can see us like this.

Are we in a mood to care?

No. There are no emotions here.

As if F8 saw the apathy in Celindria’s eyes, F8 recited, “‘Under my own will, I forfeit my volition. Perfectly and consensually until she returns me unto myself.’”

Inside the King Elect’s head, Celindria smiled, saying, “You’ve made the right decision, F8.”

“Remind me after the Shadow have wiped us both out. Kill me, and you lose control of the hive, child.” The butterfly was pinned to the floor of her mindscape, unable to lift her head higher than a few inches.

Celindria crossed the space and looked down at her, asking, “Why do the Queens never enforce control over their subjects? I’ve always wondered.”

F8 let her head fall and took a few deep breaths to rally enough incredulity to say, “Because it’s wrong, child—”

“I have lived infinite lives, and I am no child.”

With labored breaths, F8 forced out, “You are a daughter throwing a tantrum for her father’s affections if I ever saw one.”

F8 fell silent as Celindria forced her into sleep. Her earlier warning fell on deaf ears. Father would never kill F8, even to fell one of Celindria’s advantages. To kill the queens would condemn their species to extinction, and Father was no Aegis nor Razor.

The plan continued. Celindria would secure Hope and Nox in Paradise with Korac’s blood, and the Shadow were the only thing standing in her way.

We’ll need more soldiers.

Indeed.

Off to Earth and Cinder.