Chapter Text
Orbiting the cosmic void, a metal planet pulsed with radiant energy. Inside, the small God that called it home laid with contentment, sprawled lazily across a continent-sized techno bed.
Galactica swung her feet giddily in the air, her oversized headpiece humming with activity, channeling data across three timelines simultaneously. Her crystalline eyes sparkled with mischief as the universes played out before her in vivid flashes: heroes joining forces with villains, unexpected alliances, and cosmic stakes rising to unimaginable heights.
But her fun was abruptly interrupted.
A sharp, unexpected pain lanced through her stomach, sending a jolt through her being…No…her future being. “Oof!” she muttered, clutching her midsection.
“Mmm, what’s that about?” she mused aloud, already shifting her consciousness into her future counterpart.
Galactica’s senses snapped into place within her future self. In an instant, she was standing before Doctor Doom, his menacing green cloak swirling around his imposing figure, gleaming armor reflecting the dim light. His hand gripped a strange techno-magical sword, its edge buried deep in her stomach.
Doom’s voice was cold and final. “You should have stayed out of my way, child.”
With a twist of the blade, Doom wrenched it free, and her future self crumpled, her metallic form crashing to the ground with a dull thud. Doom raised his boot and brought it down hard, stomping on her head.
Galactica’s eyes snapped open in the present, blinking once. A moment of stunned silence passed before she sighed dramatically.
“Well, that was rude,” she muttered, as though inconvenienced by a minor errand. “Looks like I won’t be safe here forever.”
With a groan, Galactica shifted upright. “Guess I’ll have to hide. Ugh, work.”
Her headpiece began to glow as she tapped into the universal database, scanning for solutions. The simplest answer flashed in her mind: a pocket dimension.
Closing her eyes, she began to sift through the multiverse, seeking abandoned realms. It didn’t take long before she realized how few options were available. Most pocket dimensions were jealously guarded by cosmic gods, eldritch horrors, or divine caretakers. And the few that were unclaimed… well, they had issues; negative gravity, reality disintegration, entire systems where math no longer worked. The thought of dealing with those made her shudder.
Her search dragged on for what felt like hours (a whole two nanoseconds by mortal standards) before her eyes brightened. There, among the collapsing cosmic ruins, was a decaying universe. Its fabric hung on by mere threads, as if its creators had long ago given up.
Galactica grinned. “Perfect.”
Her headpiece flared with energy as she projected her consciousness into the decaying universe.
“Okay,” she muttered lazily, “let’s see how much work this’ll actually take…”
Her crystalline eyes narrowed in surprise. The decaying realm resisted her influence, groaning and shuddering like a toxic, uncooperative machine. The effort to bend the universe to her will proved more challenging than she’d anticipated.
“Seriously?!” she groaned, flopping backward into an invisible techno-chair she conjured from thin air. “This world is practically dead. Why is it still—”
She paused mid-sentence, a thought forming in her mind. Her shoulders slumped in defeat as her head lolled back in exaggerated frustration. “Anchor beings…” she muttered dramatically.
“Great. More work. All I wanted was to watch my favorite characters duke it out with explosions and drama…” She pouted, flicking her hand as if pushing away the responsibility. “Is that really too much to ask for?”
Her muttering trailed off as a sudden spark of inspiration ignited within her. “Wait…” she said, a childlike grin creeping across her face.
“What if I recruited them?” she exclaimed, her eyes lighting up.
She jumped excitedly, clapping her hands together in giddy anticipation. “Yes! Why do all the work when I can get them to do it for me?”
Galactica’s fingers snapped rapidly, and one by one, the women appeared in her massive, techno room.
First, Wanda Maximoff arrived in a flash of crimson light, her eyes wide with confusion. “What the hell?”
Then came Peni Parker, disoriented as she landed. “Uh… Where am I? This isn’t my world.”
Luna Snow followed, her icy aura dissipating in the warmth of the hot room. “This place… is wrong.”
Mantis floated in next, her serene expression faltering as she looked around. “I’ve never felt a presence like this before…”
Magik stumbled forward with her demonic sword in hand, narrowing her eyes in a blend of curiosity and suspicion. “Where the hell are we?”
Hela entered, her presence a looming shadow. “Who dares bring me to this place?”
Storm followed, her sharp eyes scanning the space for danger. “Something’s off here…”
Squirrel Girl bounced in with her usual unshakable cheer, but even her voice trembled. “Well, this is unexpected…”
Finally, Black Widow appeared silently, her gaze immediately locking on Galactica. “Care to explain?”
The women all turned to the sight of the colossal, mountain-sized woman towering above them. Her presence was overwhelming.
“Well,” Galactica said, her voice light and casual, as if explaining something obvious, “I’m Galactica, and I’ve been helping you all in the shadows, fighting against Doom’s forces.”
The group went quiet, unsure how to respond. Wanda narrowed her eyes, skeptical. “Helping us? I don’t remember any giant cosmic woman helping us in the shadows.”
Galactica’s eyes sparkled mischievously. “Ah, you see, it’s a subtle thing. You probably didn’t notice me because I prefer to stay behind the scenes. But I’ve been influencing events, nudging things along, you know? Keeping things in your favor.”
The women exchanged skeptical glances, not entirely convinced by her words.
“Alright, fine,” Hela said, her voice low and skeptical. “If you’ve been helping us, then what is it you want?”
Galactica sighed dramatically, her face twisting into a faux-pout. “Well… Doom’s going to kill me in the future, and I need your help. I need to create a safe place, a pocket dimension, where I can hide from him. He’s gonna have it out for me, apparently.”
“Wait,” Hela interjected, her eyes narrowing in disbelief. “You’re a cosmic being, and you’re asking us for help? You can’t handle this yourself?”
Galactica straightened, her posture exaggerated with exasperation. “Fine, you caught me.” She spread her arms wide, as if revealing a secret. “I’m being lazy.”
The room fell silent. Several of the women exchanged glances. Luna Snow raised her hand cautiously. “You’re what now?”
“I’m lazy, okay?” Galactica said, as if it were the most reasonable thing in the world. “Being a god isn’t as simple as it seems. It’s actually really mentally draining. And I thought, since I’m saving you all from a grim fate, you’d be open to doing me a solid.”
The women shifted uncomfortably, some still unsure if they should trust her. Black Widow spoke up, her voice calm and measured. “And what do you need us to do?”
Galactica smiled, her expression sharp and full of too much satisfaction. “Well, to make sure Doom doesn’t find me, I need you to… eliminate a few people. Just a few.”
The room went dead silent.
Magik was the first to respond, her grin turning sinister. “Eliminate? I’m in. Who do we need to take out?”
Hela’s lips curled into a smile, dark and calculating. “Hell is always hungry for more souls.”
But several of the others looked horrified. Dagger raised her hands defensively. “Wait. Killing people?”
Wanda’s eyes flickered with slight hesitation. “This… isn’t what I was expecting.”
Squirrel Girl stepped back, shaking her head. “I’m all for a good fight, but killing? That’s… that’s a bit much.”
Galactica paused, her expression thoughtful. “Oh. Right. Mortals and their morals,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. “I forgot how touchy you all get about that. Well…” She trailed off, her eyes narrowing as an idea sparked within her.
‘Ah, mortals,’ she chuckled to inside her head. ‘So easily manipulated, especially by their own emotions.’ She recalled one of the most powerful human emotions, one that had toppled empires and driven even the most rational beings to act irrationally...Lust.
“I suppose if you really don’t want to kill anyone, you could just capture them and bring them to me. But…” She leaned in closer, her voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper. “Killing them is definitely more effective, though.”
With a flick of her fingers, her energy pulsed through the room, creating a subtle but powerful shift.
Microscopic drones appeared in the air around her. They were designed to be undetectable, invisible even to the women’s enhanced senses. Galactica felt the drones buzzing to life, ready to perform their work.
She focused on each of the women individually. The drones swarmed, slipping into their bodies unnoticed, moving through their skin, veins, and tissue, their microscopic presence undetectable.
In a flash, the drones infiltrated the neural pathways, weaving through the synapses of each woman’s brain, adjusting their chemistry and psychological responses. The drones did their work, amplifying the women's emotional states and tapping into their most primal desires. Now the act of violence, the thrill of the kill, was subtly altered to become something more pleasurable, even addictive.
Lust would now course through their veins, intertwining with their natural instincts for combat. But it wasn't just any lust it was a dark, intense sexual bloodlust that would make every act of violence feel like the most exquisite, orgasmic release.
It was done in an instant. The women wouldn’t feel a thing. They still believed they were making their own choices. But inside their minds, something had shifted. They were no longer just merciless they were now addicted to the rush of victory through violence.
A sly grin crept across Galactica’s face. She had them where she wanted them.
“And here’s the fun part!” she continued, snapping her fingers. In an instant, 17 holographic pictures appeared in each woman’s hands. “These are the people I need you to deal with. Capture them or kill them, don’t care to be honest—just make sure they’re dealt with.”
As the women examined the images—faces of mostly women—they exchanged uneasy glances. Before they could ask anything more, Galactica teleported them into the universe. The room was now empty except for her.
Galactica smirked, watching them disappear. “Now, let’s see how well they play together…”