Ten years ago, Kuina was seventeen.
She wasn't a goddess, not yet. Just a skinny girl with fire in her eyes and scars under her sleeves. She walked the school halls like a ghost, eyes low, voice gone. Every step was a prayer to disappear.
Until James found her.
James, six feet two, all muscles and ego, football star, daddy's money and Satan's grin. He slammed her locker shut one morning just because she didn't say hi. That day, he called her a freak. The next day, a slut. The third, he slapped her tray of food out of her hands, watched it splatter across the floor, and laughed.
The others laughed too.
That's when Kuina stopped believing in mercy.
But it wasn't school that broke her. Not James. Not the bruises. Not even the humiliation.
It was Toby.
Her father.
A drunk. A liar. A monster with a belt in one hand and a beer in the other. He hit her. He hit her mom. Then one night, after too much vodka and too little self-control, he grabbed a kitchen knife. Screaming. Shoving. Her mother is begging.
And then, silence.
She watched her mom bleed out on the floor, twitching. Toby didn't even look sorry. He just said, "You made me do this," and walked out the door.
Kuina never saw him again.
But she never forgot his face.
She ran away that night, barefoot, broken, and burning with something deeper than hate.
Now.
Kuina is twenty-seven.
Her body? Sculpted steel. Her abs could crush skulls. Her arms, veins like rope. She lives alone, doesn't talk, and doesn't smile. She trains. Morning to night. Gym. Martial arts. Knife drills. Push-ups till her knuckles bleed.
She doesn't do men. She doesn't love. She does rage. And survival.
Until today.
Because today, she comes home and finds a bottle.
Sitting on her kitchen table.
Black glass. Twisting vapor inside. And a note tied to it:
"Drink me if you're done being a victim."
She stares at it. Doesn't blink. Her hand hovers over the bottle… but she doesn't grab it. Not yet.
"What the fuck is this?" she mutters.
"Finally."
The voice isn't hers.
It comes from behind her. Smooth. Velvet. Dripping with wicked sweetness.
She spins around, ready to fight, and stops.
The girl standing there isn't human.
She's too perfect. Too... unholy.
Black bob-cut hair, flawless skin, lips painted the color of blood and sin. Gothic corset. Knee-high boots. And behind her wings. Black, leathery, twitching like they're bored.
She smirks.
"Hi, Kuina. I'm Kylie. I'm your invitation to a better world."
Kuina doesn't answer.
Kylie steps forward, slowly. "You drink that, you enter a new world. One where women rule, men crawl, and magic is real."
Kuina narrows her eyes. "Why me?"
"Because you're fucked up, angry, and beautiful. Because they broke you. Now it's time to break back."
Kuina looks down at the bottle again, still hesitant.
Kylie tilts her head. "Don't tell me you're scared now. After all those years of training? All that pain and blood for what, to stay weak? To let men keep winning?"
"I'm not scared."
Kylie smiles coldly. "Then prove it. Or stay here like a loser who lets her daddy and some school bully define her for life."
She gestures to the bottle. "You'll start at level 1. Every man you kill will raise your level. Every woman you pleasure will give you a hundred more levels — and a new power."
Kuina's jaw tightens. Her fingers curl around the bottle.
Kylie adds, "Oh... and your virginity? That's adorable."
Kuina's brow twitches. "How do you—"
"Magic, babe. Now shut up and drink."
She does. No more hesitation.
The world tilts.
Colors stretch. Skin burns. Her clothes vanish. She floats in light, naked, weightless. Then, she drops.
SLAM.
She lands, barefoot, in a field of red grass under a violet sky. A sword plunges into the earth in front of her. Long. Sleek. Pink as a weaponized fever dream.
Her new weapon.
She grips it.
DING.
Level 1. Welcome, Kuina. Mission uploaded.
Task: Eliminate 3 Male Criminals. Estimated victims: 60 women. Rewards: +1 level per target.
Three men step out from the trees. Big. Ugly. Armed. One of them grins, spitting on the ground.
"Look at this bitch. What, they send tits instead of soldiers now?"
Kuina doesn't respond. Her grip tightens on the blade.
The first guy lunges. She dodges, barely. He's fast. Strong. She slides under his swing and punches him in the gut, but nothing.
He punches back. Hard. Her jaw cracks sideways. She stumbles.
"Die, slut!" he yells.
She blinks away the blood. Breathes.
Remembers James. Toby.
Then she grins.
She ducks low, slams her heel into his knee. Crack. He screams. She spins, kicks his face — he goes down.
She grabs his knife and drives it into his chest.
DING.
+1 Level. Current: Level 2.
The second guy runs at her — he's yelling, but his eyes are wide. Fear. Not rage.
She knees him in the ribs, then elbows the back of his neck. Down. She slits his throat.
The last one begs. She doesn't let him finish the sentence.
DING.
+2 Levels. Current: Level 3.
She exhales. Covered in blood. Bruised. But standing.
Kylie reappears, clapping. "Not bad, baby girl."
Kuina cracks her neck. "Next."
Kylie purrs, "Want a real challenge Baby?"
New Mission Uploaded: Eliminate 90 Males in hostile territory. Solo. Reward: +1 Level per target.
Kuina grins. "Bring it."