The UMA Maximum Security Prison, known as "The Vault," sat on a jagged island miles away from the bright neon of Sherwood City. Here, the walls weren't just concrete; they were reinforced with dampening fields that turned the world’s most dangerous people into ordinary, powerless prisoners.
Usually, the silence was absolute. Tonight, it was shattered by a sound like a silk sheet tearing.
A ripple appeared in the air near the North Wing. High-tech cloaking tech, far more advanced than anything the government possessed, flickered and died as three figures in white, hooded robes stepped onto the black stone. They bore the mark of the Cult of Snydervrse on their chests.
"The Doctor's interference is working," one cultist whispered, checking a handheld scanner. "The dampeners are looping. Move."
They glided through the corridors, the prison guards slumped over their desks in a deep, chemically induced sleep. They didn't stop until they reached Cell 001. There was no name on the door, only a painted icon: a wooden cross with strings hanging from the crossbar.
Inside sat a young man. He looked barely older than Maya, with pale skin and dark, hollow eyes that seemed to swallow the dim light of the emergency lamps. He was humming a nursery rhyme, his fingers dancing in the air as if he were plucking invisible threads.
The door hissed open.
"Mr. Puppet Jr.," the lead cultist bowed. "The hour of the shadow has come. Doctor Science has paved your way."
The young man stopped humming. He stood up, his movements fluid and unsettlingly graceful. "Science?" he mused, his voice thin and melodic. "He always did love his gadgets."
As they stepped out of the prison ruins and onto the jagged cliffs, a small holographic projector on a cultist’s shoulder hummed to life. The flickering, green-tinted image of Doctor Science appeared, his masked face loomingly large.
"Child of the Puppeteer," the Doctor’s voice crackled. "I have broken your chains. Join me. My intellect and your gift... together, we will dismantle the legacy of the Cybergirls and bring Dementra home."
Mr. Puppet Jr. tilted his head. He looked at the cultists, then at the hologram, and let out a high, chilling giggle.
"Dementra? That old ghost?" He stepped closer to the lead cultist, his eyes flashing with a sudden, violent purple light. "The Doctor wants a partner. How... adorable."
He snapped his fingers.
The three cultists froze. Their eyes glazed over, turning a dull, flat grey. The "Mind Control" didn't just command them; it rewrote their nervous systems.
"I don't play with toys I didn't build," Puppet Jr. sneered at the hologram. "And I don't follow orders from men who hide in basements. My father’s 'collection' is still out there—the Vega woman, the Dawson girl... and now, the little Rose."
He looked at the cultists and smiled a sharp, cruel smile. "As for your servants... they’re so stiff. They need to relax. Play."
With a flick of his wrists, the cultists began to move. But it wasn't a tactical retreat. Under his command, they began to engage in a series of debauched, humiliating acts, their bodies twisting into awkward, shameful positions as they lost all control of their dignity. Their muffled cries of horror were ignored by the boy who held their strings.
He turned back to the flickering image of Doctor Science. "Tell the Cybergirls I’m coming to reclaim what’s mine. I don't want a new world, Doctor. I just want to play with the one we have."
With another snap of his fingers, the holographic projector short-circuited and exploded. Mr. Puppet Jr. stepped off the cliff, his body dissolving into a faint, eerie purple mist that drifted toward the mainland, leaving behind the ruined prison and the broken men who had tried to set him free.
The strings were back in the hands of a master—and his favorite stage was Sherwood City.11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOMQcuOZqm6
and then Add to home screen.