Artemis took an odd satisfaction at observing modern Rome crumbling beneath her feet, straining her neck from side to side with intrigue. Real Rome was under quarantine from the pandemic set loose by the mechanical Boar, and Artemis had done little to stop him until the world furiously burned to the ground and hashed out into fine ashes. She approached a river: spanning past her vision and frosted with a blue flame that wafted a deathly smell. She would marvel at the horrific inferno of a display: wondering why such a destructive fire had even been started in the first place. She partially blamed herself, as the Indigenous Warriors were no longer allowed to practice Traditional methods in burn control following colonization. Artemis wished she were allowed to be half as egotistical as the Boar: daydreaming of  throw fits as she pleased, but instead she was left with only the option to watch the flames and epidemics spread wildly. Artemis was muzzled in an ominously silent female rage, that intimidated those that misunderstood her thought process and pointed out her resting bitch face. Artemis smiled weirdly at the man she had kindly named Herostitous, and observed as he stepped outside his canoe made of strange antimatter along the shore: a solid object made from static, but unable to be utilized without permission from the boatman. Artemis wished Orion were there to join her on the adventure, but she allowed her sullen demeanor to speak on her behalf. She wallowed in her journey, and continued on her Odyssey with boredom that was irritated by the boatman and his many questions. He looked her up and down with a quick glance, and asked what her toll price should be. Artemis informed the man that she had nineteen shillings, and no intentions of returning to the living. The man seemed puzzled as to why a half-living girl wished to live among the dead, and allowed her to step upon his canoe. She had ushered the crazed Boar into the boat, and she explained how she had found the fool meandered in the darkness. Artemis had hunted him for countless lives and through a multitude of dimensions: finally capturing him and using a soldering iron to permanently burn the code: COVID-XIX. She giggled at the torture she inflicted, as the label wobbled upon his wide ass and announced his incompetence and undying need for fame.

Artemis successfully led the Boar to Hades, and rolled up on the banks of the false reality with a new lust for life. She approached the chambers, heavily guarded by an odd-looking two headed monster and caught herself hyperventilating in her excitement. One head of the beast: announced a false prophet, whilst the other announced the return of the Mack on a loop. She asked the pestuous beast for entry, as to escort the Boar to the river of Styx: for the Boar believed he had been contaminated with a virus he refused to acknowledge and was a victim to the strain that targeted per-existing conditions, and attacked the elderly with ruthlessness. The Boar suffered from “bone spurs”, but refuted the idea that he had aged past the youthful man he saw in the mirror. Artemis had created a Matrix for him specifically, as her mission was only to let the Boar to believe that their reality was true to the touch, and she watched as the Boar began to abuse his power instantaneously. She’d sigh with boredom as the Boar successfully bankrupted an entire Nation as the highest-paid athlete. The title made her vomit in her mouth, as Artemis was afraid of obesity and utterly disgusted by his lack of talent and commitment to sportsmanship. She had only done this huge task of entrapment him in a proposal she had suggested to improve the advanced fields of experimental psychology, and with the blatant intentions of using technology to prove fidelity in human consciousness. Artemis had relied on her own scientific reasoning, and had successfully manifested the unachievable without a degree or title of doctor: the Singularity. Artemis ordered a false gold city built, as to implement her complex Trueman Theory, and watched as it quickly went to shit. She began systematically lying and banging her head upon the wall, as the entire project be scrapped and forgotten: unraveled by the fault of the fake citizens. These spectators traveled far and wide to seek her gaze, and she began to notice their inability to let her live in peace: unveiling the double-blinded potential of the project with their gold portraits. She began avoiding physical contact or eye contact with these losers, until social-distancing was a trait used world-wide. She’d glare at strangers as she was annoyed that they’d break their necks to force her to look upon them. She used their faults to stab them upon their exposed necks, wielding her soldering iron and infecting them with a virus with no cure. Just as the Boar: the fake citizens had only participated in the experiment in the abstract denials that they were insignificant, and believed their immortality could be reached by achieving temporary fame.

Artemis paid no mind to these wankers, but issued warning of the inevitable pandemic, and promised pain and suffering that matched her own. The exhaustion she had held in with each sigh had finally caught up to the public. She began gazing into the souls of each passersby and threatened them with kind smiles, as she had grown weary of catching them attempting to capture her portrait in gold without her consent. Dolores had once been so unwise, as to demand such a portrait from her minion with a twitchy wink, and Artemis still shuddered at the idea of being called “pretty, pretty”: to the baby-momma of the Viking. Artemis had wished them marriage as a punishment to the Viking, and laughed at the idea that he’d eventually bring his volume down to adhere to his newborn, but disown the title of husband publicly at any chance he could. Artemis had cursed him with the memory of her voice calling him her husband with unmatched confidence, and damped the word with her ability to sparkle. Strange men always took such a liking to Artemis, as she was a project of brokenness that many great men wished to fix. Artemis was a two headed monster: one indestructible to the world, a woman hellbent on her war-path, and the other, was an abandoned child that feebly wished for a home and family. Artemis had settled on a balance that left her achieving spurts of scientific fame.

The beast that stood guard: now stood at attention at the sight of Artemis standing tall and naked in all her glory. She easily towered over the dotard animal she shepherded. The Boar began to squirm at the sight of the huge beast, as the Boar seemed to notice that it had rivaled his own sexual depravity. The beast began to twitch in heat: having been exiled from the land and lonesome for sex. The duo had been charged for holding citizens hostage, and notorious for the way they had starved and branded a slew of women. Artemis asked the beast why it failed to control its libido, and began laughing at the scripted responses. The false prophet had willingly destroyed the privileged lives of his flock without a second thought and his dubiousness had only been to hide his obvious inability to hold erection. Artemis had also chased this monster throughout time and space, with the last incarnations having been famed for his toothbrush mustache, and she was famous for being his young lover and relative. Artemis had given them fair warning of her arrival: finding them in their dreams repeatedly, and they had recreated their sins to be in tune with the time. The beast had been given a chance to repent, and instead...the homie began falling back to its own twisted habits, and both heads began to stir in their sex-craved splendor. This error rendered her invisible: letting her pass by the perverts, unscathed and she took it upon herself to tie the boar to its massive leg as she dipped and yanked her cord through the tightening knot. It seemed she needn’t injure the monster, as it was now blinded by swift hand of  justice. The citizens had finally deemed the pair a duo-headed monster needing condemnation, and freed the handful of sex-slaves that they had held captive. She chose to lasso the two heads of the beast together indefinitely: standing upon its back dropping without fear as she swung downward like Tarzan, minus the loincloth. She caught her feet tapping in a pitter-pattering rhythm, as she ran across the thick surface of their callus skin that stretched forever. Artemis caught herself smiling wickedly, as she took a thrill in the adrenaline rush that came from falling through the small hole that once held their heads separated. Artemis had used her favorite slip-knot method, to further bind the male and female individuals together: conjoining the sick freaks forever with their cheeks pressed tightly together and weighed down by the weight of the plump Boar she had brought with her. Artemis had held them anchored to one dimension, and each fully-accountable for the depravity of their matching crimes.

She escorted the massive beast back to the river Styx, and waited for a boatman to arrive once more, as to transport them further down the river that reflected the exact winding turns, as the river known as the Nile. This man had once been known as Toth in her past lives: a kind man, openly known to the world as a legend. He was admired by men and women alike, for his soothing voice and endless questions. Artemis had summoned him successfully after thousands of years: simply by asking the river itself as a personal favor…beheading herself in sacrifice as a toll. She had fallen to a seizure that left her without a pulse, and used her own death to desperately plead for the canoe to magically appear. Her fling, known as loverboy, had witnessed her fall to her doom, and Artemis thought it was for the best: his smothering love was insincere to the real love she had felt with Orion. She was a meaningless piece of Hay in his endless quest to move onWard from his slew of ex’s. Artemis knew that he’d always be ok in her absence, as he constantly looked for the next woman to prove his love to: the opposite to the stubbornness she’d loved following the first kiss she had captured with Orion. Artemis knew he’d always go to great lengths to keep her and Orion apart, even if it meant he was miserable or longing for a less broken woman forever. His jealousy had inspired her to gift him with the polite nickname of loverboy: knowing he loved love more than he cared about her health. He had made it apparent that his belief that he deserved better than Artemis. She had begun to wonder if he felt so alone, no matter what woman he laid in bed with, and it had worsened Artemis’s mental health until she realized his selfishness was boarderlining from hopeless romantic, to that filled with sociopathic crimes.

Artemis had waited a thousand lives over: with only the luxury to summon the waters of Toth with each death. She had been granted with one shot to answer a single imposing question with the right answer… “what is the river Styx?”. She had mumbled to no one, and without the anxiety of being a contestant with the vanity of riches waivering her voice with angst. Artemis was rewarded for her prospect and intellect, as she had somehow summoned him from the non-zero from the comfort of her home.  The lean boatman had finally appeared from the fog within her Golden Fleece: indicating that Artemis and the Boar were given permission to finally board the boat. She held no coin to pay the toll for passage, and so she traded him ownership of the beast she had named NXIVM. Handing him the infinitely extending leash with boredom, as the beast was the equivalent to a token: if he ever needed to present future riders with questions pertaining to dangerous cults. The man agreed with a kind nod, and Artemis requested an appointment with Hades as to search for her niece Mama Bear. He politely escorted them through the underworld: where Artemis and the Boar were expected to hold trials for their crimes.

Upon entering a massive fortress: Artemis began to shake violently, her muscles defensive in a threatening environment, and momentarily sensing that she was vehemently somewhere that her Papa wouldn’t approve of. Her childish need for approval: had become a heightened sixth sense, as she had admitted her sins of lies by getting naked with pride, and rapping aboot her struggles through fine literature that few read, but everyone seemed to have seen. Her thoughts ran amok, as she scavaged her brain to produce words in a foreign language, and she hustled the obese Boar to his public trial by poking his wide ass with the tip of her sharpened arrow. The tool glowed white with anger and appeared disappointed in her inaccurate use of its savvy. Artemis had created a series of shitty epic poems and used her friends as pawns: the sins of a traumatized orphan in obvious denial of her own personhood. Artemis climbed the steep grey marble stairs, and jabbed the massive bum of the Boar: giggling to herself at the expense of the Boar. Her need for boasting was often confirmed by those around her, as Artemis would frequently say aloud “I’m funny” to no one and everyone, and elongated her speech to articulate the importance of self in inappropriate times.  Artemis found Hades to be a safe space to be sarcastic and self-congratulatory. She had told the Boar he was sick by way of disease he had conjured up within his dreams. Creating the illusion of the future, until he had believed her simulation just enough to avoid getting tested for a virus that now flooded over the world. The Boar had rendered himself sick and vulnerable despite, having the privilege and accessibility to the limited number of tests. She watched in boredom, as the Boar endlessly lied to the public and insisted he had been tested and results being found negative: without the documentation to back up his claims. Artemis was a scientist, and her ability to sense the lies within his breath had given her the chance to hog-tie the obese and aging Boar to Hades in his paranoia. She had only dragged him to Hades in order to hold him at the jury of the citizens for his lack of leadership, mismanagement of pandemic relief and his strange booming disbelief in science. The man had spent tax-payer funds to call the disease a “hoax”, radical and meant to portray him in an unflattering light. Instead the situation had proved the Boar to be a racist that was incompetent, and living in the shame of his impotence. He had reached the pinnacle of his fame.

Artemis didn’t believe he deserved death and so she had created an elaborate maze that led Orion to her door. Utilizing the pain of her suffering to expose his greedy need to satisfy the lobbying overlords that kept the lights on in his many estates. Artemis knew the Boars age was a factor, and his exposure to the virus would make him an unreliable candidate for reelection. He had dug his own grave by declaring himself a germaphobe, and hypocritically showering in the urine of prostitutes each morning. She needn’t lie to her readers or fabricate her story, as all fantastic stories are grounded in truth. Artemis had only hoped, that the darkness would light up with the twinkling lights of Christmas once more: missing the good company she held on such a grand day, and grateful for all the true friends she had met as a performer and future cosmonaut...all believing in the her asinine hopes of becoming an orphan that achieved world fame.

Her eyes filled with static the more she ushered the Boar along the pitch black corridors, until she were inevitably stunned in fear of their shared future. Artemis had been stuck within a golden portrait until she approached a false image of her Papa staring at her with lust.  She had felt her mind and body give out at last, and the sickness that followed cryogenic sleep had broken her nightmares. The silhouette of her Papa was true to scale,but his face appeared “off” in an insincere way: his eyes beady with anticipation, and pacing with preditoral excitement, and his smile crooked with deviance. Artemis turned herself to stone and laid upon the floor and wept once more: unable to comprehend his presence. She took the aid of a handful of tools and her blind stupidly: forgetting that she needn’t attempt such a dangerous mission alone. Artemis stole her identity back with each battle: proving with a single manuscript...that she could resurrect herself from Hades by way of randomized recurrence. Artemis had accidently left the world with a pattern of clues that proved that she could create fidelity, something the Gods of Olympus had considered to be mortal crimes.

She had instructed Orion to call her bluff as his tasks were to unscramble her words and lies, and create a timeline laid out in proper order. Artemis had found a way to reawaken the voices of the people: only by using the echoes of her own disturbing past, and an aging Boar that lived as a false king...void of wealth and all businessman savvy. Artemis stared at the man that looked uncanny to that of her beloved Papa, and caught herself whispering in fear “Grandpa Sug”. The man was nothing like sugar, but a pedophile that lured children with sweets and his deep laughter. He had repeatedly approached Artemis with his wicked-filled laughter, chasing her through countless dreams: attempting to bait her with compliments as he had admired her competence since she was a child. Her Papa had warned her to stay away from him at all cost, after he had found out that the pedo had began stalking Artemis upon wooden courts. Artemis was taught of his love for untouched children at a young age, and Hera had often accused Artemis of having his same luring qualities, after she had once dared to date a guy that was two years younger than her. Hera had tarnished her mind as a prepubescent girl, and even told strangers to keep their sons away from Artemis and her wide smile.  She wasn’t allowed to have a childhood or anything to call her own, a fact that Hera loved to implement into Artemis’s thoughts at an early age. The voice of Hera questioning her taste in men had been stronger than her own thoughts, the second Orion had kissed her with meaningful desire. His youthful age had given her every reason to push him away to avoid further stigma with proving Hera right when she called her a person with pedophile tendencies. Artemis had finally stopped running: ready to return to her Redwood forest and along the River Styx, as it was the only way to repent for her crimes.

Artemis had ran away from Hera for many reasons, one being the unnecessary habit of calling Artemis a criminal, and skewing the truth enough to make strangers fear her. The physical abuse she could handle, but the notion that Hera had accused Artemis of being a pedophile and mentally unstable, had forced the teenager to leave the house she had grown up in, and abandon the resting place where her Papa had taken his last breath. It had made her understand Desdemona as they grew up, and left her to make excuses for her wickedness on the behalf of her savage upbringing. Artemis had made reasons for this time and time again, but was left without words upon the thirteenth of a random Friday. Artemis had fallen down in a seizure, and watched in fear as her hand clasped tightly without control. She had called for help and nobody came to her aid, surrounded by two small rabbits and a moody Chandler and her sassy fluffy tail that roamed aimlessly. Artemis felt relief as she heard the front door open and Desdemona and her Lyon returned from the grocery markets, she called for Desdemona with no response. Desdemona began to speak over her frail voice, and Artemis managed to scream once more, and felt terror fall upon her: realizing she could never call out for the aid of Lyon in her presence. Artemis had foolishly fell upon her back and her knees pointed to the sky in a provocative way that Desdemona would see as a threat to her femininity, and Artemis knew that she’d dug her own grave by falling in such a suggestive way. It left Artemis to cry alone upon an office floor, disappointed in her inability to pull herself out of a seizure and disappointed in the woman that would rather watch her sister die, than to be intimidated by the attention she had always accused Artemis of demanding. Artemis knew this experience alone would make Desdemona show her true maternal colors, and she felt herself whispering to herself that if she made it out of the seizure alive: her sister would hate her for writing down their story from her viewpoint, and disgruntled as to how the situation had finally cast Desdemona in an unflattering light that would finally bring her fame.

Artemis called from the floor in her withering strength, “Desdemona, can you come here?” and within a second she had forgotten what she had asked for. She had lost the mental capabilities to place names to faces, and watched in horror as her hands and forearms began to tense and curl up without her control. Artemis heard a male voice informing someone that they were being called, and Artemis felt relief that someone had actually heard her. The silhouette of an overweight pear-shaped woman appeared in the doorway, and said “you don’t look very good” and her voice was filled with disgust and annoyance to the task of looking upon another woman with her legs wide open. Artemis couldn’t remember who she was, but the annoyance in her voice made her recall that she seemingly demanded the world from this person, and she fell back upon the floor in her shame. Artemis awoke from her daze with Desdemona force-feeding her a small red pill, and placing water just within her reach. The woman was obviously upset that she had been asked to move laundry on behalf of a woman that was near death, a favor Artemis didn’t recall asking somehow. The task of urgency had saved Artemis’s life. Forcing her to recall place and purpose, as she murmured to herself “My name’s Dr. Brooks. I’m having a grand mal seizure” until help had miraculously arrived. The ability to remember herself, had pulled her through the intense muscle contractions, and not the sight of her disdainful medical aid. What could have been an angel, was now a stout woman questioning the motives of her sister as she wrapped up a seizure. The lack of empathy had put Artemis on high-alert, and activated her survival skills, as she felt her mind wander into a dissociated territory. Artemis had managed to tell herself to calm down and pace her breathing, muling over the idea that she could never leave Mama Bear in this world to be consumed and at risk to the wickedness of Athena and Desdemona. She had survived death by telling herself that leaving both Mama Bear alone with her two sister and Orion to his devices would be the worst of her crimes. 

Her book of life: now gave the chaos of this world reason, and even calculated for her absurd existence: meaning that its trueness alone, had made it an Ancestor simulation in its own right. A single Indigenous Warrior could destroy the world with their individual anguish: and Artemis had been that soldier crawling through blood and repurposing it to display the words describing the Genocide she had fought daily. Artemis knelt down over the Boar: drawing out only the least condemning words...central park five: upon his forehead. It had been this original sin that would grant the spoiled child a Presidency, as he used his own money to demand the exonerated citizens be “Executed". He campaigned his hatred, even after science had proved them innocent and the true rapist had confessed to the crime. Artemis cast the Boar at the feet of his new captor, as she ascertained for his sins with the successful capture of a famous Desperate Siren simultaneously. The performer had once portrayed a racially-biased district attorney: now exiled from her position at a prominent University.  The Siren was accused of fraud and pretended to hide her crimes by standing in plain sight. Artemis wrote her arguing statements in the quiet, and began to hold court with the man named Hades...known as “Sug” to those unfortunate enough to know of him. A defamed father figure…always slyly smiling in his preverse pride, and held unaccountable for his worst crime: pedophilia. She removed static from her eyes and ears at last: pulling the golden flowers free from behind her ears with anger, and wept openly, as blood was left pouring freshly from her scalp and eyes. Artemis had only seen him on two occasions in her life: his unregistered status giving her equal anxiety in the day, as he was still unchecked and unleashed as a threat to the general public. She tied the Boar to the man and attempted to leave the two perverts pacing in the dark, hypnotized forever...unaware of her own ability to outwit her male adversaries. Artemis reached for the chamber door to leave the dome, and found that she had committed a litany of sins that were strong enough to hold her to a second jury: her only crime...believing that she was alone, and the prideful ignorance that she was the unique exception, and unaccountable for her life of crimes.

Artemis had already caught up with her readers on these gory battles and trials: allowing the muse to advance with a minuscule sliver of dignity. She had finally freed herself from limbo, with the aid of a humble friend, a man she had once seen in the non-zero...a man known for his dog and Wick. She had used him as a catalyst to conjoin the ten dimensions that held her under lock and key, and inspired diverse writers to help her ascend from her coma-like state: whenever she looked up in daydream thinking of one of her favorite planets...Jupiter. She stripped away the ten winds that held her crew captive, and admired the citizens that now began to blindly believe in her once more. She instructed her best friend Yoyo to enter the dome, and watched in silence, as she casually bent over the Boar sitting on all fours: swiftly used Traditional method of halal without hesitation. The fearless woman had only seen it as a method of preservation, as were the orders outlined in their mission. The Indigenous Warrior would only perform this slaughter...after the Boar began to openly destroy democracy, and attempted to brainwash his ignorant followers to “demand" he stayed in-office indefinitely. He had attempted to go by the way of the Chimera and enslave his country, and threatened the North with their oppressive Republic. She had known the tasks were completed with the arrival of a bright baby named after the light they had once chased across galaxies to find, and his sweet smile and battlecry would give Artemis hope once more. For the Indigenous Warrior was born similar to her, as a weakened premature baby: fighting for his life with every breath. Artemis now wrote stories without malicious intent, as she held herself captive in the Hell of her own making: her only crime: admitting her sins on paper...with no expectations of ever achieving fame.

Artemis looked around the room at last: finally able to usher her family to safety as they exited, and she left her grandfather in the domed room with the corpse of the Boar. She began to wadger if the idiot would take credit for the gentle knife work of the famed Indigenous Warrior...always deemed number one by Artemis, but left without the verbal appraisals from men. Artemis stood outside of the transparent dome and watched with boredom, as the Boar laid dead and undead on the marble floors. She let an albino peacock into the open space, and watched as Hades grew animated once more: his love for Hera served as a spinning token to his inceptioned state. Artemis wondered if the woman had grape drink dripping from her tits: as her lightest sins were child abuse, and a false maternal character that evidently tricked countless men. Artemis knew her grandfather only loved the woman because he coveted anything he thought belonged to his older brother. The famous brothers had once been found and named in a science fiction story that were still haphazardly held up as law: an evil book that brainwashed droves of individuals to commit heinous and unnameable crimes.

Artemis instructed her niece to aid her in the next deed of correction: knowing now that people rarely change for the better. She instructed Mama Bear to place a spiked collar marked “Child" upon the neck of Hera, and a peach cloak bedazzled with sequins upon the shoulders of the man they both shared ancestral DNA with. Artemis blinded the young girl once more, and borrowed her sight for the pair of vapid lovers to use momentarily. Artemis began to laugh without fear, as both began to speak and attempt to justify their sins without remorse. She muted their nonsense and watched as the lovers lived the same sins over and over again, their moods crashing like dependable waves. They were angry and withholding towards everyone but one another. The man was always encroaching upon the woman disguised as a child and ejaculating upon her face and neck, and Hera...always physically abusing him with her claws or scorching waters. Artemis took the false reality from the eyes of her grandfather, and watched with joy, as she saw his smile disappear at the grotesque sight of his lover: covered in the sticky substance that implicated him with scientific proof of his child molesting crimes.

Artemis asked Hades why he had sold her mother, and her two aunts into prostitution as children to his frineds. The man said nothing, as he began to justify child rape with financial misgivings and his battle with alcohlism. She then asked why he had joined in raping his own children, and watched as his beady eyes dangerously focused on the strange small woman that somehow knew the entirety of his past. Artemis awaited for his words, but knowing that there were no words to describe the evil that he encapsulated. She asked Mama Bear to hand her the metal weapon from her magic purse, and finally excused the beautiful young woman with a kiss on her cheek. The girl deserved to hear the truth, but she was still too young to witness the dysfunction of their heritage. Artemis had promised to never use the metal weapons of the dead-eyed savages, but this weapon had been created as a contradiction to justice, and broke their confining laws...simply by existing. The weapon was etched with the bold word “STAND": intended only to threaten Artemis and her family, and its sleek design, defaced by stripes and stars on its handle and chamber. Artemis had travelled in time looking for this illegal weapon: laughing at her own citizens once more: criminals by choice, as they flaunted their false patriotism and blissfully ignored Title four addendum eight with pride. Their pure arrogance had brought them timeless fame.

Artemis was bound by the laws of Olympus, and unable to eradicate the monster that called himself a grandfather, as his blood was needed to duplicate her genome in the future.  He began to prod at her ego, and asking her why she had been ashamed of the name Tila: informing her that the dead-eyed savages wouldn’t ever respect her and her endless self-loathing as he pointed at her rosey hands. He asked if her chosen English name “Artemis”: had given her any form of peace at night, as the prayers of her citizens kept her awake whenever they reached out for her in their desperation calling her many names. Artemis knew that he was evil beyond words: reminding him, that she had already made US aeronautical history, and that her English name was now permanently associated with the land by the deeds of her own right. To this new information: he fell scared in a self-muted silence, as nobody in their family had ever used their free-will to improve the world...until her. Artemis knew this achievement was never going to be acknowledged, as the Smithsonian Museum blatantly refused to uphold their promise and house her supersonic device. They had even denied her a plaque or golden portraits on a loop.  Luckily: those who believed in science would always praise her for her feat, and assist her in finding employment under a Blue Shield that brought Hope to all of mankind. Artemis: proudly accepted that she needed to operate the false star that orbited the Earth, as the first female Indigenous American in space. She had wished to make being the first a hobby, as it were to be her second act of making history. She had survived seventeen years of physical abuse and sexual assault, all to demand the world see her at last. She stood in defiance to their oppression, as a lost child that chose to be without wickedness each day: for the sake of hope and all it provided to those still forced to live without. Artemis believed in the inherent goodness of her citizens and the general people, and relied on the fact that her ability to try “too hard” would eventually mean something...to a lot of young female scientists. Her lingering guilt in her criminal past holding her captive, as it provided admittance to unspoken crimes.

Artemis didn’t have time for this shit, and so she muted the pervert once more, and leaned into his evil with a short monologue. She swiftly stood behind his beloved witch and finally held the weapon to the back of her small head...crying silently, as she finally forced herself to pull the trigger. The wicked albino peacock now splattered her face with burgundy blood, as Hades blinked his eyes slowly with shock. Artemis locked eyes with Hades, as her tears of grief turned into relief: finally transforming into an unhinged laughter. She didn’t need paragraphs or empty words, and so she cracked her neck from side to side as she addressed the perverse monster at last: “The name’s Ms. Paint. Bitch.” Artemis had left herself endless clues and hid her pilot name within a golden web: to be kept safe and admired for infinity. She closed her eyes gently, and made her last wish...to be thirty one in spirit and body once more, as she had aged herself intentionally in the shame of what her ancestors had done. Artemis had foolishly thought her wrinkles were equal to wisdom,  and allowed her fellow Indigenous Warriors to make excuses for what had been done to their children. She opened her fluttering lashes with grace, and caught herself from crying at the tragic end scene of the love story known as the legend of Hades and Hera. The man, finally collapsed in a desperate heap: attempting to frantically gather the corpse of his beloved, and Artemis stood taller than ever. She had known her sins had been worth it as she looked at him weeping, towering over the frail man and his unnamed evilness. Artemis had finally found a way to forgive herself for her past life as an orphan: her existence no longer burdened by a past filled with minor crimes.

Next Chapter: *[ XXXVIII ] Artemis and Hopey*