The monitor's static faded to black, and Maria leaned back in her chair, her hand still resting on the swell of her belly. The child kicked again, softer now, as if settling. She smiled, a slow, satisfied curve, and reached for the keyboard to log the timeline, but a chime interrupted her—a notification from the Ark's communication array.
She frowned, tapping the screen. A message, timestamped minutes ago, from a frequency she didn't recognize. She opened it, and a familiar face filled the monitor: a boy with a shock of orange hair and a cocky grin that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Maria," Chandler said, his voice crackling through the speakers. "I've got an idea. A big one. And I need your help to pull it off."
Maria raised an eyebrow, settling back in her chair. "Chandler. I haven't heard from you in—"
"Months, I know. But hear me out." He leaned closer to the camera, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I've been watching the timelines you've been archiving. All of them. The Coopers, the Maheswarans, the Goofs, the Lomaxes, even that mess with Samus Aran and the hedgehog."
Maria's fingers stilled on the keyboard. "You've been watching my archives?"
"Not just watching," Chandler said, grinning. "I've been cataloging. And I've realized something: we've all got stories. Every one of us. And the one thing that brings them together is—"
"Sex," Maria finished flatly.
"Connection," Chandler corrected, though the grin didn't waver. "And I want to celebrate that. All of us, together. One place. One night." He spread his arms. "An orgy. The biggest the multiverse has ever seen."
Maria blinked. "You want to host an orgy."
"Not just host," Chandler said, leaning forward. "I want to host it at Lincoln's house. The Loud House. It's big, it's central, and it's got plenty of rooms." He paused, his grin softening into something almost earnest. "And I want you to come. You and Rift. And Nova."
The mention of her daughter made Maria's hand drop to her belly, where the child—Nova, already born, already hers—slept in a bassinet across the room. She glanced at the sleeping infant, then back at the screen.
"You want to bring a baby to an orgy?"
"I want to bring everyone," Chandler said. "The baby's part of the family. And this is a family thing, Maria. All of us, connected through the timelines you've watched. It's a celebration."
Maria was quiet for a long moment. The monitor behind her flickered, the static of a dead channel, and she felt the child kick again, a sharp, insistent movement, as if responding to something she couldn't see.
"When?" she asked.
"Tomorrow. Sunset. Lincoln's house." Chandler's grin returned. "I'll send you the coordinates. And Maria?"
"What?"
"Bring the archives. All of them. I want everyone to see what you've been watching."
The transmission ended, and Maria sat in the silence, her hand on her belly, her eyes on the sleeping Nova. Somewhere in the house, she could hear Rift moving, the familiar weight of his footsteps on the Ark's metal floors.
She didn't know what she was agreeing to. But she knew, with a certainty that made her pulse quicken, that she was going.
---
The Loud House loomed before them, a sprawling suburban mansion that seemed to hum with a strange, electric energy. Maria stepped out of the Ark's transport shuttle, Nova cradled in her arms, and Rift followed close behind, his eyes scanning the house with a quiet, watchful intensity.
"This is it," Maria murmured, adjusting the blanket around Nova. "Lincoln's house."
"It's bigger than I expected," Rift said, his voice low. "And it's—" He paused, tilting his head. "There's a lot of energy here. Dimensional. Like the Ark."
Maria nodded. "Chandler said he wanted to bring everyone together. I didn't think he meant—" She trailed off as the front door swung open, and Chandler appeared, resplendent in a purple suit, his grin wide enough to split his face.
"Maria! Rift!" He spread his arms, gesturing them inside. "Welcome to the Loud House. The party's already started."
Maria stepped through the threshold, and the world opened up.
The living room was packed. Bodies moved in every direction—on couches, on the floor, against the walls, tangled in pairs and trios and more. She recognized faces from the timelines she'd archived: Ramona Flowers, her hair a riot of color, straddling Scott Pilgrim on a leather couch; Amy Rose, her pink quills splayed across a rug, guiding Sonic through a slow, deliberate rhythm; Luke Skywalker, older now, his hand tangled in Leia's hair as she rode him; Padmé watching from a chair, her eyes hungry.
Maria's breath caught. It was one thing to watch these people on a monitor. It was another to see them, live, in the flesh, their bodies moving in ways she'd only ever observed from a distance.
"Quite a turnout," Rift said, his voice dry. "You've been busy, Chandler."
"I told you," Chandler said, his grin widening. "Everyone's got a story. And tonight, we're all telling them together." He clapped Rift on the shoulder, then turned to Maria, his eyes dropping to Nova. "And this must be the little one."
Maria instinctively pulled the blanket tighter, shielding Nova from the heat of the room. "This is Nova," she said, her voice quiet. "Rift's daughter."
Chandler's grin softened, something almost reverent crossing his face. "She's beautiful. A new life, born from the chaos of the multiverse." He reached out, his finger brushing the edge of the blanket, and Nova stirred, her amber eyes blinking open. For a moment, she stared at Chandler, and Chandler stared back, and Maria felt something pass between them—a flicker of recognition, of understanding.
"She's going to be powerful," Chandler said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I can feel it. The dimensional energy in her—it's like nothing I've ever seen."
Rift stepped forward, his hand coming to rest on Maria's shoulder. "She's my daughter," he said, his voice low and firm. "Of course she's powerful."
Chandler laughed, stepping back. "Of course. Of course." He gestured deeper into the house. "Come on. There's someone I want you to meet."
Maria followed, Nova still cradled in her arms, Rift a warm presence at her side. They wove through the crowd, past bodies intertwined, past moans and gasps and the wet sound of skin on skin. Maria kept her eyes forward, her focus on Nova, on Rift, on the quiet bubble of their family in the midst of the chaos.
Chandler led them to a back room, quieter than the rest, where a figure sat in the shadows, his eyes fixed on a screen that glowed with familiar static.
"Gohan," Chandler said, and the figure turned.
The boy was young—younger than Maria had expected—but his eyes were old, weighed down by something she couldn't name. He looked at her, then at Rift, then at Nova, and something flickered in his gaze.
"This is Maria," Chandler said. "And Rift. And their daughter, Nova."
Gohan nodded, his voice quiet. "I know who they are. I've seen them. In the timelines." He paused, his eyes lingering on Nova. "She's going to be powerful."
Rift stiffened. "Everyone keeps saying that."
"Because it's true," Gohan said. He stood, crossing the room, and Maria saw the scars on his arms, the calluses on his hands. "I was like her, once. Born into chaos. Raised in the shadow of something bigger than myself." He looked at Nova, his gaze soft. "But she'll be different. She'll have something I didn't."
"What's that?" Maria asked.
Gohan smiled, a thin, knowing curve. "A family that loves her."
Maria felt something tighten in her chest. She looked at Rift, at the man who had fathered her child, who had stood by her through the chaos of the multiverse, and she felt a warmth spread through her, unbidden.
"She will," Maria said, her voice firm. "She'll have everything."
Gohan nodded, and something passed between them—an understanding, a shared weight. Then he turned, walking back to his screen, his eyes fixed on the static.
"I'll be here if you need me," he said. "But I think you have your own path to walk."
Maria lingered for a moment, then turned, following Rift and Chandler back into the chaos of the party. The house pulsed with heat and sound, bodies moving in every direction, and Maria felt the child kick again, a sharp, insistent movement, as if responding to the energy around her.
"Rift," she said, her voice quiet. "What do you think she'll become?"
Rift was quiet for a long moment. Then he looked at her, his eyes dark and serious, and he said, "She'll become more powerful than me. More powerful than any of us." He paused, his hand coming up to cup her cheek. "And she'll have you to thank for it."
Maria felt her breath catch. She leaned into his touch, Nova warm against her chest, and she let herself believe it.
Somewhere in the house, someone moaned, a long, drawn-out sound, and Maria felt a shiver run down her spine. The child kicked again, and she pressed her palm against her belly, feeling the life inside her, the future she was carrying.
"Come on," she said, her voice low. "Let's find a room."
Rift's eyes darkened, and he followed her, his hand finding hers, their fingers intertwining.
They moved through the crowd, past bodies tangled and moaning, past the echoes of pleasure and pain, and Maria felt her pulse quicken, her blood heating. Nova shifted in her arms, and Maria looked down at her daughter, at the amber eyes that held the weight of a thousand timelines, and she smiled.
"You're going to be incredible," she whispered. "I can feel it."
Nova blinked, and for a moment, Maria could have sworn the infant smiled.
The hallway beyond the back room was quieter, but the sound of the house still pressed in from every side—a moan from behind one door, a rhythmic creak from behind another, the low murmur of voices tangled together in the dark. Maria kept her eyes forward, Nova warm against her chest, Rift's hand a steady pressure at the small of her back.
They passed a doorway where Amy Rose knelt over Sonic, her pink quills fanning across his thighs as she took him deep, her throat working around him. Sonic's head was thrown back, his eyes half-lidded, a low growl rumbling in his chest. Maria slowed for just a moment, watching the way Amy's hands gripped his hips, the way she swallowed him down like she'd been doing it her whole life.
"That's the heat," Rift said, his voice low in her ear. "I've seen that timeline. She's been taking care of him for days."
Maria nodded, her throat dry. She'd archived that one. She'd watched Amy guide Sonic through release after release, her body a gift he didn't know how to ask for. Seeing it live, in the flesh, was different. The sounds were real. The smell of sex hung in the air, thick and sweet, and Maria felt her own body respond, a warmth pooling low in her belly.
They moved on, past a corner where Missy Cooper sat astride her brother, her hands braced on his chest, her hips rolling in a slow, deliberate rhythm. Sheldon's face was a mask of stunned pleasure, his fingers digging into her thighs as she rode him, and Maria caught the word "sister" falling from his lips like a prayer.
"The Coopers," Rift said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "I never thought I'd see them like this."
"I did," Maria said, her voice quiet. "I watched them. She taught him everything."
Rift's hand tightened on her back, and she felt his gaze on her, dark and knowing. "You've been watching a lot of things."
"I've been learning," she said, and she felt the child kick again, a sharp, insistent movement against her palm.
They found an empty room at the end of the hall—a bedroom, larger than the others, with a wide bed and a window that looked out over the backyard, where more bodies moved in the moonlight. Maria closed the door behind them, and the noise of the house faded to a low, distant hum.
She set Nova down in a bassinet that had been left in the corner—Chandler had thought of everything—and she stood there for a moment, looking down at her daughter, at the amber eyes that seemed to see through her.
"She's quiet," Rift said, coming to stand beside her. "Most babies would be crying in a place like this."
"She's not most babies," Maria said. She reached out, brushing a finger across Nova's cheek, and the infant stirred, her tiny hand closing around Maria's finger with surprising strength. "She's seen more than any of us. In the timelines, in the energy. She's not afraid."
Rift was quiet for a long moment. Then he said, "Gohan. He was like her, wasn't he?"
Maria looked up at him. "What do you mean?"
"He was born into chaos," Rift said, his voice slow, thoughtful. "Raised in the shadow of something bigger than himself. And look at him now—scarred, calloused, carrying the weight of a thousand battles. He's powerful, Maria. More powerful than most. But he's alone."
"He has a daughter," Maria said. "Pan. From the future."
"He has a daughter who used him," Rift said, his voice flat. "Who took him, again and again, and left him broken. That's not family. That's a weapon."
Maria felt something cold settle in her chest. She looked at Nova, at the peaceful rise and fall of her tiny chest, and she thought of Gohan's eyes—old, weighed down, carrying something she couldn't name.
"She won't be like that," Maria said, her voice firm. "She'll have us. She'll have a family that loves her."
Rift's hand came up, cupping her cheek, his thumb brushing across her skin. "I know," he said. "That's why she'll be different. That's why she'll be more powerful than him."
Maria leaned into his touch, her eyes closing for a moment. The warmth of his hand, the weight of Nova against her chest, the hum of the house around them—it all blurred together, and she felt a certainty settle into her bones.
"More powerful than you?" she asked, opening her eyes.
Rift smiled, a slow, rare curve. "More powerful than me," he said. "More powerful than any of us. She'll be the most powerful being in the multiverse." He paused, his eyes dropping to Nova. "And she'll have you to thank for it."
Maria felt her breath catch. She looked down at her daughter, at the amber eyes that held the weight of a thousand timelines, and she felt something shift inside her—a fierce, protective love that burned hotter than anything she'd ever felt.
"She'll be incredible," Maria whispered. "I can feel it."
Rift's hand slid from her cheek to her shoulder, then down her arm, his fingers intertwining with hers. "Come on," he said, his voice low. "Let's give her a moment. We can watch from the hallway."
Maria nodded, letting him lead her to the door. She looked back once, at Nova sleeping in the bassinet, and she felt a pang of something—fear, maybe, or wonder—at the thought of what her daughter would become.
They stepped into the hallway, and the noise of the house washed over them again. Maria leaned against the wall, Rift beside her, and she watched the bodies move in the living room below—a blur of skin and sound, of pleasure and pain, of stories being told in the oldest language there was.
"Do you think she'll ever see this?" Maria asked, her voice quiet. "The timelines, the archives, all of it?"
Rift was quiet for a long moment. Then he said, "She'll see more than this. She'll see everything. And she'll understand it in a way we never can."
Maria felt the child kick again, a sharp, insistent movement, and she pressed her palm against her belly, feeling the life inside her, the future she was carrying. Somewhere in the house, someone moaned, a long, drawn-out sound, and Maria felt a shiver run down her spine.
"Let's go back in," she said, her voice low. "I want to watch."
Rift's eyes darkened, and he followed her, his hand finding hers, their fingers intertwining as they descended the stairs. The house pulsed with heat and sound, and Maria felt her pulse quicken, her blood heating, as she stepped back into the chaos of the party, Nova's quiet presence a weight against her chest, a promise of what was to come.
The party swirled around them as they re-entered the living room—bodies tangled on couches, moans rising and falling like a tide. Maria kept Nova pressed against her chest, the infant's warmth a steady anchor in the chaos. Rift's hand never left hers, his thumb tracing slow circles across her knuckles.
Then she saw him. Beautiful Gorgeous, weaving through the crowd with the easy grace of someone who owned every room he entered. His eyes found hers immediately, and there was something different in them—a glint she hadn't seen before. Something hungry.
"Maria," he said, his voice smooth as glass. "I was hoping to catch you before the night got away from us."
Rift's grip tightened on her hand. "What do you want?"
Beautiful Gorgeous's smile didn't waver. "A word. Private." His gaze flicked to Nova, then back to Maria. "About the archives."
Maria felt a cold thread wind through her chest. "What about them?"
"I kept them immaculate while you were away. Catalogued every file, every timeline, every encounter you'd recorded." He paused, letting the words settle. "And I made copies."
The cold thread tightened. "Copies of what?"
"Everything." Beautiful Gorgeous's smile widened. "Yours. Mine. All of it. I thought you should know before someone else found out."
Rift stepped forward, his body going tight. "Who else?"
"Follow me." Beautiful Gorgeous turned and walked toward the back of the house, not looking back to see if they followed.
Maria's heart hammered. She looked at Rift, and something passed between them—a shared understanding that this was bigger than either of them. Then she followed.
The back room was small, almost bare, lit by a single lamp. A screen dominated one wall, dark and waiting. Beautiful Gorgeous stood beside it, his hands clasped behind his back.
"I've been watching you, Maria," he said. "All of you. The way you catalogue, the way you archive. It's beautiful, really. A record of every desire, every secret, every moment of weakness."
"Get to the point," Rift said, his voice flat.
Beautiful Gorgeous's smile never wavered. "The point is that I've made connections. People who appreciate the kind of work we do. They call themselves the Pervert Gang."
The name landed like a slap. Maria felt Nova stir against her chest, the infant's amber eyes opening, watching the man with an intensity that belied her age.
"I sent them everything," Beautiful Gorgeous continued. "Every file from your archive. Every file from mine. The Coopers. The Skywalkers. The hedgehog and his lesson. All of it."
Maria's blood ran cold. "You had no right."
"I had every right. They're my archives too. And the Pervert Gang—they appreciate them. Master Roshi. Minoru Mineta. Herbert. Glenn Quagmire. Roger. The Booty Warrior. They've been very... enthusiastic in their appreciation."
Rift's hands clenched into fists. "You sold her work."
"I shared it. There's a difference." Beautiful Gorgeous turned to the screen. "But there's one member who's been particularly eager to meet you. He asked for something specific."
The screen flickered to life, and Carl Wheezer's face filled it—pale, nervous, his eyes wide behind his glasses. "Oh my god, it's really her. I've seen so much of your work, Maria. The archives, the timelines. It's incredible. I mean, the stuff you've recorded—the hedgehog, the Coopers, the Skywalkers—it's like a library of everything I've ever wanted to see."
Maria stared at the screen, her mind racing. "You're Carl Wheezer. You're from Jimmy Neutron's timeline."
"Yeah, and I've been looking for this kind of material forever. Beautiful Gorgeous said you had the best archives in the multiverse, and she wasn't wrong." Carl leaned closer to the camera. "I asked her for some of the sex stories. The really good ones. And she delivered."
Maria's gaze snapped to Beautiful Gorgeous. "You traded my work."
"I traded access," Beautiful Gorgeous said, her voice smooth. "Carl had something I wanted—information on Jimmy Neutron. His vulnerabilities. His weaknesses. The kind of intel that could be very useful in my next scheme."
"What scheme?" Rift demanded.
Beautiful Gorgeous's smile turned sharp. "One that involves a very large screen, a very public broadcast, and a truth that Jimmy Neutron has been hiding from the world." She paused. "He's in love with Cindy Vortex. And I'm going to show everyone."
Maria felt the world tilt. "You're going to broadcast his feelings?"
"It's true, isn't it? I've seen the timelines. I've watched them dance around each other for years. It's time the universe knew." Beautiful Gorgeous's eyes glittered. "And when it does, the next story begins."
Nova made a small sound, and Maria looked down at her daughter, at the amber eyes that seemed to understand everything. She felt a fierce protectiveness surge through her, and she pressed the infant closer.
"You can't do this," Maria said. "You can't just—"
"I already have." Beautiful Gorgeous turned to Carl on the screen. "The deal is sealed. The files are delivered. And I have everything I need."
Carl's face split into a nervous grin. "Yeah, about that. Beautiful Gorgeous said there was one more thing. To, uh, seal the deal."
Beautiful Gorgeous's smile widened. "He's right. I made a promise." She crossed the room, her hips swaying, and stopped in front of the screen. "A deepthroat and a creampie. That was the deal."
Maria watched, frozen, as Beautiful Gorgeous reached down and unzipped Carl's pants on the screen—a video feed, live, the boy's erection springing free, already slick with anticipation.
"Watch closely," Beautiful Gorgeous murmured, dropping to her knees. "This is how deals get sealed."
She took him in her mouth in one smooth motion, her lips stretching around his girth, her throat opening to accept him. Carl's head fell back, a strangled moan escaping his lips.
"Oh god," he gasped. "That's—that's so deep."
Beautiful Gorgeous's cheeks hollowed as she sucked, her throat rippling around him. She pulled back, a string of saliva connecting her lips to his cock, then plunged down again, taking him to the root.
Maria's own body responded despite herself—a warmth pooling low in her belly, her thighs pressing together. She'd watched so many timelines, so many encounters, but this was different. This was live. This was happening in front of her.
Rift's hand found her waist, pulling her close. "Don't watch," he murmured. "You don't owe her that."
But Maria couldn't look away. Beautiful Gorgeous was a master, her throat a perfect sheath, her tongue working the underside of Carl's cock with practiced precision. Carl was already trembling, his hips bucking, his hands fisting in her hair.
"I'm gonna—" he started, but Beautiful Gorgeous didn't stop, didn't slow. She took him deeper, her nose brushing his pelvis, her throat convulsing around him.
He came with a cry, his body arching off the chair, and Beautiful Gorgeous swallowed every drop. She held him in her mouth until he went soft, then pulled back with a wet pop, a thread of cum still connecting them.
"There," she said, her voice rough. "Deal sealed."
But she wasn't done. She stood, shedding her clothes with quick, efficient movements, and straddled him on the screen. Carl's eyes were wide, his cock already stirring again as she sank down onto him.
"Oh my god," he breathed. "Oh my god, oh my god—"
She rode him slow at first, her hips rolling in a lazy circle, then faster, harder, her breasts bouncing with each thrust. Carl's hands found her hips, gripping tight, his mouth open in a silent scream.
Maria felt Rift's hand slide lower, his fingers pressing against her through the fabric of her dress. She gasped, her hips bucking into his touch, and she heard him chuckle low in his throat.
"You're watching them," he said. "But you're thinking about me."
She was. God, she was. The heat of him, the weight of his hand, the way his fingers found her clit through the thin barrier of cloth—it was too much, and she arched into him, her breath coming in short gasps.
On the screen, Beautiful Gorgeous was close. Her rhythm had become frantic, her thighs shaking, her head thrown back. Carl was gripping her so hard his knuckles were white, and Maria could see the exact moment he lost control—his hips bucking up, his face twisting, cum flooding into her.
"Fuck," he gasped. "Fuck, fuck, fuck—"
Beautiful Gorgeous rode him through it, her own climax crashing over her, her body shuddering. When she finally stilled, she leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his forehead.
"Pleasure doing business," she said.
The screen went dark.
Maria stood there, her heart pounding, her body aching. Rift's hand was still between her thighs, and she could feel the heat of him through the fabric, an accusation and a promise.
"She has everything," Maria said, her voice barely a whisper. "Every file. Every timeline. Every secret."
Rift's hand stilled. "And she's going to use it."
"She's going to destroy Jimmy." Maria looked at Nova, at the amber eyes that had seen so much. "And she's going to start a war."
"Not our war," Rift said. "Not yet."
Maria shook her head. "It is our war. She has our archives. Our work. Everything we've recorded." She pressed her palm against her belly, feeling the child kick, a sharp, insistent movement. "We can't let her use it."
Rift was quiet for a long moment. Then he said, "What do you want to do?"
Maria looked at the dark screen, at the memory of what had just played out. She thought of Jimmy, of Cindy, of the truth that was about to be broadcast across the multiverse. She thought of the Pervert Gang, waiting with her archives, hungry for more.
"We go to Jimmy," she said. "We warn him. And we find a way to take back what's ours."
Nova stirred in her arms, and Maria looked down at her daughter, at the future she was carrying. Somewhere, in the distance, she heard the sound of a screen flickering to life—Beautiful Gorgeous's next scheme already beginning.
"And we stop her," Maria finished. "Before she starts something none of us can finish."
Rift's hand finally withdrew from between her thighs, and Maria felt the absence like a physical ache. He turned her to face him, his dark eyes searching hers in the dim lamplight.
"Jimmy first," he said. "Then we deal with the gang."
"And Beautiful Gorgeous?" Maria asked.
Rift's jaw tightened. "She's already made her move. The broadcast is coming whether we're ready or not."
Maria nodded, her mind already racing ahead. She shifted Nova in her arms, the infant's amber eyes still fixed on the dark screen, as if she could see through it to the chaos waiting on the other side.
"We need to move fast," Maria said. "If she's already sent the files, the Pervert Gang has everything. Every timeline. Every secret. Every moment of weakness we've ever recorded." She paused, the weight of it settling over her like a shroud. "They could use any of it. Against anyone."
"They're perverts, not strategists," Rift said. "They'll use it to jerk off, not to build weapons."
"Carl asked for sex stories. But Master Roshi? The Booty Warrior? You think they're just going to watch?" Maria shook her head. "Someone like that doesn't get access to the multiverse's most intimate archives and do nothing with them."
Rift was silent for a moment, then he said, "Then we get to Jimmy before they do."
Maria looked down at Nova, at the tiny life she'd brought into this chaos. "And we get our archives back."
"How?"
The question hung between them, heavy and unresolved. Maria didn't have an answer. Not yet. But she knew one thing with absolute certainty: she wasn't going to let Beautiful Gorgeous's betrayal define what happened next.
"We start with what we know," Maria said. "She said she traded access for intel on Jimmy. That means she's been watching him. Planning. She'll broadcast his feelings for Cindy at the worst possible moment—when it'll do the most damage."
"Which means we have a window," Rift said. "Between now and whenever she decides to pull the trigger."
"A small one." Maria's voice hardened. "But it's all we need."
She turned toward the door, but Rift caught her wrist.
"Wait." His voice was low, urgent. "What about the gang? They have the files. They have everything we've recorded. If they decide to use them—"
"Then we deal with them one at a time." Maria met his eyes. "Master Roshi. Mineta. Herbert. Quagmire. Roger. The Booty Warrior. Carl." She recited the names like a list of enemies, each one a threat she'd have to neutralize. "They're not a coordinated force. They're a collection of perverts who happened to get the same package. That's a weakness."
"It's also a lot of fronts."
"We don't have to fight them all at once. We just have to make sure they don't use what they have." Maria paused, a thought forming. "And maybe we can use that."
"Use what?"
"Their greed. Their hunger. They got a taste of the archives, and now they want more. If we can offer them something better—something they can't resist—we might be able to buy back our leverage."
Rift's eyes narrowed. "You're talking about giving them more material."
"I'm talking about controlling what they see. What they think they have." Maria's voice dropped. "Beautiful Gorgeous gave them a copy of the archives. But she didn't give them everything. There are timelines we recorded that she never saw. Encounters I kept private. Secrets that belong only to us."
"And you're willing to use them as bait?"
"I'm willing to use them as leverage." Maria looked at Nova, at the amber eyes that seemed to understand more than they should. "If the Pervert Gang thinks they're getting exclusive access to something even Beautiful Gorgeous didn't have, they'll come to us. And when they do, we'll be ready."
Rift was quiet, processing. Then he nodded slowly. "It's risky."
"Everything about this is risky." Maria shifted Nova to her other arm. "But it's the only play we have."
She moved toward the door, and this time Rift didn't stop her. The sound of the party drifted in from the living room—moans and laughter, the clink of glasses, the wet rhythm of bodies moving together. It felt like another world now, a place she'd left behind the moment she'd followed Beautiful Gorgeous into this room.
At the threshold, she paused and looked back at the dark screen. Somewhere in that darkness, Beautiful Gorgeous was already planning her next move. And somewhere else, the Pervert Gang was devouring the archives she'd handed them like starving animals.
"We'll need a ship," Maria said. "Something fast. Something that can get us to Jimmy's timeline before she makes her move."
"I know where we can find one," Rift said. "But it's not going to be comfortable."
"I don't need comfortable. I need fast."
Rift's lips curved into something that wasn't quite a smile. "Then let's move."
Maria followed him out of the room, Nova pressed close against her chest. The party swallowed them whole, bodies pressing in from all sides, but she kept her eyes fixed on the exit. On the door that led out of this chaos and into the next.
Behind her, she heard the screen flicker to life once more. A voice—Beautiful Gorgeous's voice—smooth and satisfied, speaking to someone on the other end of a connection Maria couldn't see.
"The files are delivered," she was saying. "And I have everything I need to bring Jimmy Neutron to his knees."
Maria didn't look back. She just kept walking, Nova warm in her arms, Rift's hand a steady presence at her back.
Somewhere ahead, in a timeline that didn't know it was about to be shattered, Jimmy Neutron was living his life, oblivious to the storm bearing down on him.
And Maria was going to get to him first.