Minerva Mouse

Hey there, you lovely readers! Buckle the hell up, because we’re diving headfirst into a world where shadows are as common as bad puns and where our anti-hero, Minerva, isn’t your average Disney princess. Nope! She’s more like a demented version of Minnie Mouse who’s traded her polka dots for leather and chrome. Think of her as the goth kid who got lost in a rave and decided to take some serious fucking revenge on the world. Neon City, baby! A place so bright and shiny that it could blind you faster than a lightsaber to the face. Our girl Minerva is strutting through the neon-lit streets, looking for trouble — and believe me, she’s about to find it. The air is thick with the smell of burnt circuits and regret, and if you listen closely, you can hear the sweet, sweet sound of corporate fat cats sweating their asses off in their high-rise towers. With her cybernetic enhancements—think a smartphone, but it’s her brain—she breezes past security like they’re just a bunch of NPCs in a video game. “Oh, sorry fellas! Didn’t see you there, but I’m pretty sure you didn’t see me either!” she giggles, hacking into the system like it’s a game of Tetris. And what does she find? A vault of stolen memories! Like, seriously, who the hell thought that was a good idea? “You know what would be REALLY cool?” one corporate jerk probably said. “Let’s erase people’s memories and sell them on the black market!” Classic villain move, right? With a flick of her wrist, Minerva unleashes chaos. Alarms blare, lights flash—this is like the Fourth of July, only with more screaming and less hot dogs. “Time to get my party on!” she cackles, dancing through the chaos like a kid in a candy store. As she bursts out of the citadel, the streets are alive with a mob of people who have decided they’re done taking orders from corporate overlords. “Look at this! A flash mob and I didn’t even plan it!” Minerva shouts, rallying the crowd like she’s leading a fucking rock concert.