A single string moves along the screen, a harbinger of tales untold. An image fades into being atop it, a world both familiar and foreign.
ONE
Aarman Fidel stands at the entrance to Eden. Behind him, cloaked in shadow, Gemini’s eyes shimmer with a treacherous glint.
“Aarman,” she whispers, her voice a venomous caress, “think of me as a gardener of a new Eden. I sow seeds, not of sustenance, but of chaos. It’s what makes life worth living, isn’t it? The unexpected, the unscripted. Observe as your dream morphs into an unforgettable spectacle. Trust me.”
As her words linger, Fidel’s body is engulfed in flames.
TWO
Deep in the jungles of Arcadia, Luther Grim, adorned with the Double Feature Championship, stalks his prey. From the shadows, Gemini observes, her gaze laced with venom.
“Luther, imagine it: your title, your pride, on the line in a battle beyond imagination. A true champion dares the abyss with a laugh. Allow me to lead you to a fight of legendary status. Trust me.”
As she speaks, the championship belt vanishes from Luther’s waist.
THREE
Gemini stands amidst swarming insects meticulously assembling a device.
“It’s all about the strings, the unseen forces that guide us. People think they’re in control, but they’re not. They’re just reacting, dancing to a tune they can’t even hear. Lead them with whispers, with promises, and they’ll march straight into the abyss. I’m the puppeteer, and they… they’re simply my playthings. Aarman, Luther, all of them. Even the reporter, Colt Ramsey.”
With a click, her creation is complete.
They think they’re playing the game, but really, they’re just pieces on my board. And when I decide they fall, they fall hard.”
The entire scene goes up in a large explosion.
FOUR
The Red Light District lies in ruins. Gemini stands amidst the chaos, her face an embodiment of serene malevolence.
“Behold my masterpiece! You see, destruction, nay Pestilence, is an art, and I am its master. Each scream, each flame, each crumbling stone, a symphony of my making. And all this time, Colt Ramsey…”
She looks directly into the camera with a black toothed grin.
“…and you have been an unwitting actor in my play. You chase illusions, Colt. You, Narcissa, Zeus, all blind in my maze, following my string. This District’s fall is just the prelude. The real symphony of destruction is yet to play, and you’re all but instruments in my orchestration. You think you’re leading, but it’s always been me, pulling the strings, leading you to your inevitable downfall.”
She waves her arms, showing the string and her hand at its end.
“Look upon my works, Colt, and despair. Aarman’s Eden, now a wasteland. Luther’s title, ripped from his hands. This District, a monument to my power. All crumbled because I decreed it. Such is the nature of Pestilence: decay, ruin, the end of all that shines.”
She tugs the string.
“Continue as you always have, Colt. Follow the string. Surely, this time will be different.”
Beat.
“Trust me.”
Gemini’s laughter, chilling and omnipresent, echoes as she fades away, a trail of chaos in her wake.