False Gods | The Prime Archives #3 ✓

three

General North was not going to be happy.

She should've already captured her target. However, the mission hadn't been as straightforward as she thought.

Hovering several stories above the ground, Stella scanned the dimly lit streets beneath her feet. A few of the abandoned warehouses had been damaged from the earlier battle. Sirens could be heard in the distance as the local police rushed to the scene.

She grimaced and pressed a finger to her earpiece.

"Does anyone have a visual on Blessed Ann?"

A few moments passed before one of her team members answered her.

"She's at the smokestacks. Alone," Angus, codename Slugger and co-captain of the Prime Task Force, said. "Engagin' now—"

"Wait," Stella hissed. "I'm on my way."

"I can handle 'er, Starchild—"

"I said wait."

Stella, however, didn't bother waiting for his reply. While they might have been leading the team together, everyone knew she held rank over them all. Ever since Chase and the others abandoned them, she had been forced to pick up the slack around The Acropolis. She didn't mind too much, though. After all, she couldn't have Angus and Theo leading them.

That would've been a disaster.

Though, even with her leadership skills, today's mission was hinting into turning into one itself.

Out of all the Primes she had faced during her time as a superhero, Blessed Ann might've been the most dangerous. Not only did she have psychic powers, but she was also an unhinged schizophrenic. A few months ago, reports coming out of Utah told of a group of women rallying behind a Prime. Strange, cult-like activities were seen occurring deep in the badlands.

Dangerous bonfires, group suicides in the name of an unknown deity, and sudden disappearances.

It didn't take too long for Blessed Ann and her cult to start murdering people—specifically men. While their victims usually deserved what happened to them, they couldn't just let a psychotic murder roam free.

Stella and her team had been working on the case for a few weeks. They finally tracked the woman down to a factory in downtown Salt Lake City.

They were going to bring an end to her reign of terror.

Huffing, she tucked her arms and bulleted down towards the tall smokestacks of the factory Blessed Ann had turned into a hideout.

Air rushed around her as she hurtled back to the ground. She leveled herself out before hitting the concrete, allowing herself to lightly touch the floor. Her hazel eyes darted around as she searched for Blessed Ann.

She froze upon spotting the woman.

The cult leader was stood at the base of a smokestack. Her black and white hair was wild, as were her crystal blue eyes. The dark makeup that usually decorated her pale skin was smudged and cracked. Her pixie-like features were scrunched up in anger. She could've been a model in another life—had she not been a murderous psychopath, of course.

Angus may have gotten a lot of things wrong in the past, but he was right about one thing.

Blessed Ann was alone.

Still, Sella proceeded with tight-lipped caution.

"What're you doing?" Angus said in her ear.

"I'm...not sure."

Blessed Ann whipped her head around. A sneer twisted her onyx-painted lips. She pointed a skinny finger at the girl.

"You are ruining everything!" she shrieked. "Everything was fine before you showed up."