While the city buzzed with the excitement of the UMA Contest, the Grand Majestic Theater had become a tomb of twisted devotion. The smell of rotted velvet was now masked by the cloying, artificial scent of expensive perfumes and the metallic tang of Mr. Puppet Jr.’s pervasive energy.
In the center of the dim auditorium, Puppet Jr. sat in a plush, throne-like chair he’d salvaged from the balcony. He wasn't alone.
"More tea, my dear," he murmured, eyes fixed on a miniature stage he had built on a coffee table.
A young woman, her face beautiful but her eyes as milky and vacant as a glass marble, moved forward. Her movements were unnervingly rhythmic, lacking the micro-adjustments of a conscious human. She poured the tea with a steady hand, her body holding a rigid, uncomfortable posture as if she were being suspended by invisible wires. She didn't blink. She didn't breathe until the "string" was pulled.
To her left, two other women stood perfectly still, their arms locked in a horizontal position to serve as a literal human coat-rack for his discarded silk scarves.
"The world is so obsessed with 'Utility,'" Puppet Jr. sneered, plucking a sugar cube from a bowl held by a girl kneeling at his feet. "Science wants to map you. The Academy wants to grade you. But I... I just want to keep you."
He turned his attention to a holographic display floating above his miniature stage. It was a loop of the West Corp announcement—Maya’s face frozen in that startled, vulnerable expression.
He reached out, his thumb tracing the curve of Maya’s holographic cheek. "The representative. The star of the show. How fitting."
He stood up, pacing the stage. His shadow, cast by a single flickering spotlight, seemed to move independently of his body, stretching like a monster across the dusty curtains.
"The UMA Contest," he whispered, a high, manic giggle bubbling in his throat. "Millions of eyes. Global satellites. All focused on the little Rose as she tries to play hero with that windy little brat, Cassie."
He walked over to one of his "dolls"—a girl who had been a rising star in the Tech District before she disappeared. He tilted her chin up, his purple eyes reflecting in her dead stare.
"The Doctor wants me to wait. He wants 'calibration.' But a Grand Premiere shouldn't be a laboratory experiment. It should be an event."
He snapped his fingers. Behind him, the curtains parted to reveal his masterwork: a massive, life-sized marionette rig, its hooks and wires gleaming in the dark. It was empty, but the shape of it was unmistakable. It was built for someone of Maya’s exact height and build.
"Let them train," Puppet Jr. laughed, the sound echoing through the hollow theater and chilling the silent women who served him. "Let them build her up to the highest point they can. The higher the pedestal, the more beautiful the snap when I finally pull her strings."
He looked at the empty rig and then back at Maya’s flickering image.
"Enjoy your little contest, Maya. I’ve already bought the front-row seat to your end."22Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqt9uDDjD9o
and then Add to home screen.