Cybergirl Vol. 2.3 – Side Story
"The Puppet Strings of Desire"
⚠️ EXTREME CONTENT WARNING
This side story explores mature and deeply unsettling psychological themes. It contains detailed depictions of psychological manipulation, irreversible trauma, and sexual coercion under the influence of hostile mind control. This content is essential to Victoria’s arc and her development of mental resistance, but reader discretion is strongly advised.
Prologue – The Age of UMA
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The world had not yet recovered from Doctor Science’s invasion, though the battlefield had long gone cold. Buildings had been rebuilt, governments reformed, and streets repaved, but fragments of his alien technology still fell silently in hidden corners of the Earth. Shimmering dust, unstable alloys that seemed alive, twisting anything vulnerable into something else. These fragments whispered in silence, bending minds, reshaping flesh, mutating abilities. They were the UMA — Unidentified Mutated Abilities.
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Some became heroes. Most became criminals. A chilling few, however, descended into something darker than any ordinary crime. Pillan Ortega was one such man.
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Once a celebrated art dealer in Santiago, Ortega’s soul had already been hollowed by avarice, ambition, and subtle cruelty. When the fragments landed near the Chilean coast, he claimed them. The clay-like material pulsed with an unnatural psychic energy, bending to his will. It could form crude puppets, ensnare the minds of victims, and enslave them entirely. Ortega became Mr. Puppet: a predator whose empire was not built on art, but on stolen autonomy. Women disappeared, paraded as his “living art,” stripped of consciousness, stripped of humanity, reduced to tools for his deranged aesthetic.
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And as with all predators, his shadow would extend far beyond the city limits, waiting for the right moment to strike.
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Chapter One – The Harlequin’s Distraction
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Downtown Santiago shook under chaos. A colossal figure moved through the streets, her limbs jerking unnaturally, her eyes milky white as if every movement was pulled by invisible strings. Cars flew like toys, streetlights toppled, and glass shattered into rain.
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Cybergirl descended from the skyline, her visor flickering with tactical data. “Alright, big lady,” Victoria called, voice calm but edged with steel. “Stand down before someone gets hurt.”
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Her armor glimmered faintly in the dim city lights, every joint humming with readiness.
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The figure, Wander, bellowed. “Are you on the phone? What are you, a bitch?!”
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Victoria dodged a falling street sign, her laser cannon tracing a precise arc. “Multitasking,” she muttered. A burst of energy struck Wander in the shoulder, and the towering UMA collapsed.
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Before the police could secure the scene, armored soldiers appeared, cloaked in black with electrified nets. They captured Wander efficiently, then vanished as suddenly as they had appeared. Moments later, the bodies of the soldiers were found in ritualistic suicides — perfect, synchronized, leaving only questions.
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Victoria’s stomach twisted in icy dread. “Why fight so hard for a hostage, then destroy the assets? Whoever sent them isn’t finished.”
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A whisper of a name traveled through the underground of Santiago: Mr. Puppet.
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Chapter Two – The Split
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Nightshadow — Elizabeth West in civilian life — crouched atop a shadowed rooftop overlooking the outskirts of the city. The blue lines of her tactical suit glimmered faintly in the darkness as she scanned the surrounding area.
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“They split up,” she muttered into her comms. Her voice was soft, measured, but sharp. “Victoria, keep your visor open. Keep scanning. Any trace of them… we can’t risk surprises.”
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Victoria’s reply was delayed. The plan was simple: split up to cover more ground, find the disappearances, and track Mr. Puppet’s network. Nightshadow melted into the darkness, moving with precision, following faint psychic residue left behind by the alien clay.
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Meanwhile, Victoria moved along the outskirts, sensing the eerie quiet that settled like a weight over the abandoned streets. A group of men dug into the dry earth, their hands bloody, faces vacant.
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“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” Victoria said, voice echoing slightly. “Bit late for yard work, isn’t it?”
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No response.
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A sharp sting erupted in her neck — a dart. She staggered, limbs heavy as though weighed down by invisible chains. Her world blurred and darkened, swallowing her whole.
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Chapter Three – Nightshadow’s Discovery
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Elizabeth moved through the abandoned neighborhoods, eyes sharp, instincts screaming danger. Houses once normal now hid atrocities. Inside, she found rooms where UMA and civilians alike were trapped in mechanical rhythms, performing acts with vacant eyes, the glow of alien clay pulsing faintly around them.
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She reached for her comms. “Victoria, respond. Victoria, are you—?”
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The reply cut through faintly, distorted by the psychic influence Victoria was under:
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“I… obey my master… masturbating…”
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Elizabeth froze, the cold dread crawling up her spine. She scanned the surrounding homes, finding more — men working the clay, building puppets, then collapsing and ending themselves when fatigue overcame them. The horror was total, systemic. The city itself had been twisted into Puppet’s gallery of submission.
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Her hands trembled slightly as she keyed a call into West Corp. “This is Elizabeth West. We have immediate… multiple hostages under mind control. I repeat, multiple civilians and UMA… being used for—”
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Her voice caught as Victoria’s distorted, hypnotized voice came back over the comms, repeating obediently, “I… obey my master… masturbating…”
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Elizabeth’s jaw clenched. Every second mattered. She had to reach Victoria before the process completed — before the psychic domination burned her autonomy away.
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Chapter Four – The Masterpiece of Violation
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Victoria awoke chained in a lavishly grotesque chamber. Chandeliers hung overhead, casting warped light across the walls. Mr. Puppet stepped forward, crimson coat flowing, his pale painted face twisted into a cruel smile.
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“Ah… the heroine awakens,” he purred. “Welcome, Cybergirl. Call me master, if you like.”
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Victoria’s eyes burned with defiance. “You’re insane,” she spat.
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Puppet’s hands moved, a fist of alien clay pulsing in his grip. Around them, dozens of women — professionals, civilians, some known to the public — performed mechanical, obedient motions, their eyes blank.
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“Do you see?” Puppet whispered. “This is perfection. Every twitch, every moan… living art. They surrender completely. They are mine. Every thought, every desire molded into compliance. And soon… you will be too.”
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Victoria’s body shivered involuntarily as the psychic strings dug into her neural pathways. Her eyes shifted white, cold, empty.
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> Hypnosis took hold: Her hands moved on their own. Every motion mechanical. Her mind screamed silently, resisting, remembering, hating — yet her body betrayed her, obeying.
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“I… obey my master… masturbating,” Victoria whispered mechanically.
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Puppet circled, voice soft and venomous. “Yes… feel it. Feel the power of obedience. Let go, Cybergirl. Join them… lose yourself, and become perfect.”
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The doppelgänger in her mind appeared: cold, obedient, radiating a seductive, perverse calm. “Give in… you are nothing. You are filth. Obey. Serve. Masturbate.”
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Victoria’s mind erupted, fighting, clawing at the psychic bonds, while her body neared the brink of forced compliance. Every nerve screamed with conflict.
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Over comms, Elizabeth’s voice cracked through: “Victoria! Fight! Remember… your sister… everything! Snap out of it!”
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The tug of memory, anger, and survival pushed Victoria. Her internal self lashed out and struck down the doppelgänger, reclaiming control in the final heartbeat before completion.
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Her body froze, mid-motion. Breath ragged. Eyes clearing. Fury blazing.
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“I told you,” she spat, voice raw. “I. Don’t. Take. Orders.”
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Puppet staggered, disbelief etched across his painted face. “Impossible… no human can resist…
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”
Chapter Five – The Unbroken Will
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The air in the mansion was thick with the scent of burning wax and cold metal. Victoria’s eyes scanned the twisted corridors, white light from chandeliers casting shadows that danced like specters. Her armor, scorched but intact, hummed faintly with residual energy.
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Nightshadow moved silently beside her, eyes sharp, scanning every room. The psychic echoes of the controlled victims still clung faintly to the walls.
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“Every tether… every puppet…” Nightshadow murmured, her voice low. “We have to neutralize them before they recover.”
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Victoria’s hands flexed in gloved fists. “We don’t have time for subtlety.” Her gaze swept the room. Clay puppets, still inert from the psychic backlash, lay scattered, while the women — some human, some UMA — staggered free, blinking as though awakening from a long nightmare.
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Chapter Six – The Master Returns
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In the depths of his chamber, Mr. Puppet, cornered but unbowed, observed Victoria’s progress through a crimson-stained window. The alien clay in his hand pulsed like a living heart, tethered to the chaos he had crafted.
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“You think you’ve won, Cybergirl?” he hissed, voice a whisper yet carrying throughout the chamber. “Do you truly understand the power of obedience?”
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Victoria turned, hearing him, her body tense. “I understand enough,” she replied, every word dripping with controlled fury.
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Puppet moved with a predator’s grace, stepping into the open chamber. “You will obey me… you will let go… feel the rhythm, the surrender, the perfection of compliance.”
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Victoria’s pulse quickened, but her mind sharpened. She had endured once; she knew his methods now. Every attempt he made to ensnare her with his alien clay, every psychic tug, met resistance.
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“You’re too late,” she growled. “Your strings don’t reach me anymore.”
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Puppet’s eyes narrowed. “Oh… I think they do.” He raised his hands, fingers trembling, clay glowing. “Obey me… let your body move… for me.”
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Victoria’s breath hitched slightly, feeling the faint psychic pull, but she focused. This time, I control it.
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Chapter Seven – The Dance of Obedience
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In the corner of her mind, the doppelgänger flickered once more. “You belong to him… obey…”
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Victoria clenched her jaw. No. She recalled Elizabeth’s voice, the memories of her sister, the defiance that had saved her once. Every heartbeat became a drum of resistance.
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“Who… is my master?” Puppet demanded, voice sharp. “Answer me, Cybergirl.”
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Her lips curved in a cold, almost imperceptible smile. “You are my master,” she said, the words a trap, luring him closer.
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“Yes… feel it… obey me,” Puppet whispered, stepping nearer. His hand reached for her, the alien clay pulsing faintly.
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Victoria allowed herself to seem vulnerable for a heartbeat — just enough. His hand brushed her, and she felt the psychic tug attempt to take hold. But she had learned. She had endured. She broke the connection instantly, her inner defiance igniting like wildfire.
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“You fool!” Puppet screamed, his face contorting. “You will not escape obedience!”
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“I am not yours,” Victoria snapped. Every word reinforced her mind’s barrier. “I. Don’t. Take. Orders.”
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Chapter Eight – Chaos and Collapse
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West Corp strike teams, guided by Elizabeth’s swift, precise movements, moved through the mansion, neutralizing remaining puppets and freeing victims. Nightshadow and Victoria moved with unyielding determination, smashing any clay constructs in their path.
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“Smash them all!” Victoria roared, voice echoing in the chamber. “Every tether, every chain!”
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Puppet, desperate, slammed a switch. Alarms screamed, fire sprinklers activated, smoke filling the ornate halls.
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“You think this ends here?” he shrieked. “You cannot destroy my perfection!”
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Victoria stepped forward, pinning his hand to the switch. “You’re not blowing yourself up.”
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“Not suicide,” he hissed, eyes wide with panic. “A finale! You will see…”
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But it was too late. His alien clay constructs began to collapse under West Corp’s coordinated assault, and the mansion erupted in flames, shards of burning wood and twisted metal raining down. Puppet screamed, the sound lost in the roar of destruction. When the smoke cleared, only scorched remains and whispers of the fallen remained. No body was recovered, leaving only the echo of his death and the lingering terror of his creations.
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Chapter Nine – Aftermath
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Victoria stepped out into the night, armor scorched, body tense, but unbroken. The air smelled of smoke and scorched stone. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, a mixture of exhaustion, fury, and relief.
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Nightshadow approached, silent but commanding presence still intact. “You did well,” she said, voice soft, almost a whisper. “It wasn’t just the armor. It was you.”
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Victoria’s hands flexed into fists. “I survived. I resisted… but how many others can’t?”
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A whisper of shadow suggested a lingering presence — Mr. Puppet’s son, perhaps, a boy shaped by cruelty and obsession, escaped the ruins. Victoria’s eyes narrowed. The fight might be over for now, but the scars — both psychic and physical — would linger, reminders that some battles leave marks the body cannot show.
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Epilogue – Loose Strings
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Pillan Ortega was officially declared dead. West Corp listed the cause as total disintegration in the mansion explosion, though no body was recovered. Whispers, however, suggested otherwise — a child, a hidden heir, a remnant of the darkness Victoria had faced.
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Victoria walked silently, the weight of memory heavy in her visor. She had survived the ultimate test of her mind, yet she knew: some control could never truly be erased. Her vigilance would have to be eternal, and her strength, uncompromising.
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The battle was over. But the war — the shadows, the strings — were far from gone.
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and then Add to home screen.