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Chapter 2

  Medusa inhaled deeply, following the warrior woman’s instructions—slow, steady breaths. The instinct to flee clawed at her mind, but she pushed it aside. There was nowhere to run, and that dreadful device was still tethered to her. Instead, as her body recovered, she took some time to observe the strangers more closely.

  They looked nothing like the typical bloodthirsty glory-seeking warriors she usually encountered. Their attire was dark, covering their bodies entirely, with fabric wrapping their arms and legs, secured by flaps and straps. Practical. Purposeful. Their clothing bore strange, irregular patterns—earthy shades of brown, green, and tan, as if someone had splattered them with paint to mimic the wilds beyond.

  Their helmets were smooth and rounded, blending with the colors of their garments. They bore no swords, no bows—only peculiar, rigid devices clutched in their hands, their function unknown to her. Yet what captivated her most were the strange, colored shields obscuring their eyes. A deep, shimmering red that shifted subtly with their movements, encased in a sleek black frame that extended from the bridge of their noses to the tops of their ears. These were not ordinary mortals.

  “Wh-what did you st-strike me with?” Medusa stammered.

  “That?” Veronica pointed to the device in Jim’s hand. “It’s called a Taser. It delivers 50,000 volts of electricity. It’s not meant to kill—just incapacitate.”

  Medusa stared, blank and bewildered, trying to process what she had just heard.

  “Think of it like being hit by tiny lightning bolts,” Jim added.

  Medusa cringed as she looked down and saw the small, wired barbs still embedded in her abdomen.

  “The probes are still stuck to you,” The woman said. “Is it okay if I remove them? It might hurt a little.”

  Medusa gave a tentative nod.

  With great care, the woman grasped the probes and removed them. The wounds were charred black from the electric shock.

  “Ahh!” Medusa hissed, recoiling. “That hurts!”

  The woman assured her, “there. The wounds are cauterized. It’ll leave a small mark, but they should heal with time.”

  Medusa spoke, her voice timid. “Why did you hurt me?”

  The man exhaled. “I apologize. That wasn’t our intention. But… you did attack us first.”

  Medusa’s expression darkened. “You trespassed into my cave!”

  He stayed calm. “Well, there wasn’t exactly a door to knock on. And I did call for you—several times.”

  Medusa hesitated. He was right. Her tense posture eased, her shoulders dropping with a hint of guilt.

  She asked quietly, “if you didn’t come to kill me, then why are you here?”

  The man offered a small smile. “We just wanted to talk. Will you speak with us?”

  Medusa took a slow breath and pulled herself upright from where she’d been slumped against the wall. Her gaze flitted between the two, curiosity beginning to override her fear.

  “None of you have turned to stone. Is it those red shields on your eyes that prevent it?”

  “Yes,” he said. “They’re called sunglasses. These have special glass installed so we can look at you without harm.”

  Medusa tilted her head. “I see. And those devices around your necks—are they what allow you to understand me?”

  “Yes,” the man explained. “They allow us to communicate with anyone, as long as their language is pre-programmed. Otherwise, it will improve as we talk.”

  Medusa’s lips pressed into a thin line. “How interesting.”

  Her gaze shifted to the woman, studying her intently. “And you… Are you an Amazon? How did you get here?”

  The woman chuckled. “Sorry, mija. I’m no Amazon. And as for how, well, we flew here.”

  Medusa’s eyes widened in astonishment. “You can fly?”

  The woman smirked. “I wish! No, we used a heli—uh, a flying machine.”

  Medusa blinked, trying to process this. “Tasers, sunglasses, translators, flying machines… Who are you?”

  Jim knelt in front of her, his tone calm but serious. “I’m Lieutenant James Barnett, but you can call me Jim. This is Sergeant Veronica Torres, Corporal Hansen, and over there is Corporal Brown. We’re with the United States Army, 1st Strategic Recruitment Battalion—and we’re here to ask for your help.”

  Medusa barely understood any of the words—except for one.

  “My help?” She repeated, frowning. “What kind of help?”

  For centuries, people had hunted her, trying to kill her at every opportunity. And yet here stood a powerful group armed with strange weapons, not seeking her head but her help. She didn’t trust them yet, but she was willing to listen.

  Jim smiled. “Let’s talk about it over a meal. We brought plenty of food. It’s been a long day for us—and you look like you could use some. Would you like to share with us?”

  Food.

  That confirmed her decision. Hunger gnawed at her—a familiar ache she had long learned to endure. Survival in the cave had been an ongoing battle. The berries had vanished first, stripped from the bushes long ago. Small creatures like rabbits, bats, and lizards had become her only reliable food source, but even those required effort to catch, as they also had to kill. Larger prey, like deer or boars, were scarce. The Styx River was no help either—its waters were acidic, devoid of fish or any life she could eat. On some days, there was simply nothing to eat at all.

  But now, these strangers were offering her food.

  Her stomach clenched in anticipation. She pulled herself upright, coiling her lower body as the snakes on her head writhed with excitement.

  “All right,” she said, her voice cautious but intrigued. “What do you have to eat?”

  “A lot, let me get some for you,” Jim said, reaching into his pack.

  Medusa watched with fascination as Jim and Veronica pulled out rectangular brown boxes of varying sizes. She had never seen food stored this way before. Jim then retrieved a pale green transparent bag and poured a small amount of water into it. Within moments, the bag emitted white smoke. Heat radiated from it.

  Medusa leaned in, her eyes wide with wonder. “What manner of sorcery is this?”

  Jim chuckled. “No sorcery—just science. It’s a flameless ration heater. It uses a chemical reaction with water to generate heat.”

  Medusa’s mouth hung open as she stared transfixed by the rising smoke and the faint scent of volcanic ash. She had seen nothing like it.

  Jim pulled out a clear container, removed the top, and poured in some kind of powder. Gradually, the liquid inside shifted from clear to ? pale red. He shook it and the color deepened into a vibrant crimson.

  She gasped.

  “Did you just make wine?” she asked, astonished.

  “Unfortunately, no,” Jim said with a smile. “This is fruit punch—and tastes pretty good.”

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  “What is fruit punch?” Medusa asked, tilting her head.

  “It’s a sweet mixed-fruit drink. Here, try some.”

  He handed her the container, its bright red liquid swishing inside.

  Medusa studied it. The bottle itself resembled crystal—smooth, transparent, yet light. She raised it to her lips and took a tentative sip. The ?taste was unlike anything she had ever known—sweet, refreshing, bursting with flavors she couldn’t identify. She finished the bottle quickly.

  Jim grinned and held out another bottle. “Would you like another?”

  Medusa blinked in surprise. “I can have more?”

  “Of course. Drink as much as you want. We have plenty.”

  She hesitated a moment, then accepted the bottle, her fingers curling around it in quiet gratitude.

  It had been so long since she had eaten with anyone—long before the incident that had made her an outcast. The food was strange, but she didn’t care. She devoured every bite. The meat was coated in a rich sauce, flavored with spices she had never tasted before. The bread came with a brown nut paste and another purplish spread that carried a strong taste of grapes—though far sweeter and more indulgent than any grape she had ever eaten.

  For the first time in ages, she ate without fear. And for the first time in even longer, she felt something unexpected. Contentment.

  Jim pulled out a small red pouch. “These are my favorite,” Jim said. “I’m glad they included it.”

  “What is it?” Medusa asked.

  “Treats.” Jim pointed at the picture. “Taste the rainbow!”

  Medusa stared at the colorful illustration on the packaging. The characters looked strange—vibrant and more playful than anything she had ever seen. The bag itself was bright red, decorated with a painting of a rainbow and colorful pebbles tumbling from it.

  “Do these belong to Iris?” she asked, curiosity piqued.

  Jim paused, trying not to laugh. “No, I can assure you we didn’t get them from her,” he explained, still smiling as he opened the bag.

  Medusa leaned forward eagerly, eyes fixed on the pouch.

  Jim motioned for her hands. “Here,” he said. “Cup your hands together, and I’ll pour some for you.”

  As Jim poured a handful of brightly colored candies into her palms, she saw the way he looked at her nails—chipped, dirty, cracked. Living in a cave left little room for grooming.

  “They’re so colorful and shiny. Are they jewels?” Medusa asked, her gaze fixed on the beads and her fingers brushing over the tiny round beads. Her sudden self-consciousness vanished.

  He smiled. “Well, I suppose they sort of look like jewels, but we call them candy. You eat them.”

  Medusa hesitated. “They’re too pretty to eat. Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely,” Jim assured her. “They’re sweet. We eat them for fun—as a treat. Though they can give you a little energy boost too.”

  Still uncertain, Medusa picked up one of the bright, round pieces and placed it tentatively in her mouth. It was slightly crunchy at first, then turned chewy, releasing a burst of sweetness. The flavor was rich, surprising, and utterly delightful. Her snakes wriggled in excitement.

  She quickly tossed the rest into her mouth, savoring the deliciousness. She likened them to ambrosia—the food of the gods—though she had never actually seen or tasted it. Sweet, powerful, and full of life.

  Jim handed her the entire bag. “Here you go. You can have the rest.”

  She responded, her words muffled by a mouthful of candy, “Thank you. I’ve eaten nothing as sweet as this.” She chewed thoughtfully for a moment, then added, “You seem powerful, you know who I am, and it sounds like you know things… about me. Are you gods? Demi-gods?”

  “No, we’re not gods. We’re mortals—like you,” Jim replied.

  “Well, not exactly like me. I was like you, before… before I was turned into this.” Medusa’s voice trailed off as she gestured to her figure.

  “We know,” Jim said gently. “We sorta know how you came to be. That’s why we’ve been looking for you.”

  Medusa’s face turned despondent as she processed his words. “So, you know all about what happened? How I came to be?” Her face softened slightly, revealing a mix of sadness and resignation.

  Jim hesitated, then took a deep breath. “We know because… we’re from the future. A faraway place in both distance and time. I know it sounds unbelievable, but would you consider joining us? I mean—living with us in our fort. You’d have a home. Food. Work.”

  Medusa’s eyes widened in shock. “The future? That explains a lot. But…leave this place and go live with you?”

  Jim nodded.

  She continued staring, stunned. “Why? What would you have me do for you?”

  “You have powerful abilities. We call them superpowers.”

  Medusa’s eyes narrowed and her tone turned cold. “I’ve killed people with my abilities. Many people. You intend to use me as a weapon, then?”

  Jim’s expression softened, but he didn’t flinch. “I wouldn’t put it that way.”

  Her brow rose. “Oh? Then please—enlighten me. I’d love to hear your reasoning.”

  “You have the power to stand against evil. To save lives. To protect the innocent and make a difference,” Jim said. “Where we come from, benevolent beings with great strength who choose to help others are called superheroes. And you have what it takes to be one of them.”

  Medusa let out a short, bitter laugh. But as she noticed Jim and the others watching her with calm, unreadable expressions, her smile faded. “You’re not jesting, are you?”

  “No,” Jim said. “I’m serious. As crazy as it sounds to you—I meant every word.”

  She hesitated, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. “You want me to leave the safety of this cave? Put myself in danger? And live with people I just met?”

  “Do you enjoy living here?” Jim asked, a hint of irony in his voice.

  Medusa let out a long, thoughtful breath. “No, I do not. It wasn’t by choice.” She glanced around the cave she called home and the stone figures, once living, now frozen in time.

  Is this truly my home? Do I even feel safe here? The thought made her pause.

  Jim nodded. “It’s all right. I understand your hesitation.”

  “Would your people accept me as I am—the way I look? They wouldn’t try to harm me?”

  “No, of course not,” Jim said, cutting in. “That’s why we’re inviting you.”

  Medusa studied him. “I find that hard to believe. But then again, everything you’ve shown me so far is unlike anything I’ve ever known.” She paused, then added, “I don’t know. You must understand—this is how I’ve lived for a quite a few seasons. And while I do appreciate your offer, it is very strange. Much too sudden.”

  Jim nodded. “You’re right. But this is our way. I understand it’s hard to trust a group of strangers you just met. Is there anything I can do to help ease your doubts? Anything at all?”

  Medusa considered his question for a moment. “Yes, there is.”

  Jim’s brows lifted. “Okay. That’s a start. What is it?”

  “Can you change me back—restore me to who I was before?”

  Jim hesitated. “When you say change, do you mean… long hair, legs, and no more turning people into stone?”

  Medusa nodded.

  “I don’t know,” Jim admitted. “But I promise you this—I’ll do everything in my power to find a way.”

  “That doesn’t sound very reassuring,” Medusa said, a note of disappointment in her voice.

  “I know it doesn’t. But that’s the most I can give you—my word. And I do mean it.”

  She studied him, searching for any sign of deception. After a moment, she said, “All right. If you will help me find a way to change back—if you truly have a flying machine, and if I can travel in it—I’ll… at least see this place where you live.”

  Jim smiled. “Great! Before we go, I have a gift for you.”

  “A gift? For me?” Medusa asked. The snakes on her head wriggled with curiosity and excitement.

  “Yes. For you.”

  He turned and motioned to Hansen, who opened his pack, pulled out a finely crafted wooden box and handed it to Jim. He unlatched it, lifted the lid and presented it to Medusa.

  Her eyes widened. Nestled inside were a pair of sunglasses—similar to those worn by Jim and his team, but different. These had brilliant blue shields rather than red, gleaming like twin pools of liquid sapphire, framed in clear, almost crystalline rims.

  She stared in awe. The rich hue reminded her of the rare, colorful lapis stones she used to find near hidden lakes—but never this vivid or perfect. They didn’t feel like ordinary objects. They felt sacred. Like relics. Almost like Jason’s Golden Fleece.

  “These were made just for you,” Jim said, fumbling a bit. “As long as you wear them, no one turns to stone. If you take them off… well, unless they’ve got their own, it won’t end well. So, yeah—probably best to keep them on.”

  Medusa understood. Sunglasses were a necessity to avoid petrification. She wondered how the glasses worked. How did these people acquire such extensive knowledge about her to create them?

  “May I place them on you?” he asked.

  “Yes, you may,” she replied.

  Jim held the glasses from the front, checked for dust or prints on the lenses, then slid them onto Medusa’s face, guiding the arms past the snakes wriggling near her ears.

  Noticing this, Medusa had them orient toward the back of her neck.

  “Wow, you look good. Just one more thing,” Veronica said, pulling out an AI translator with a fabric loop. She switched it on and slipped it around Medusa’s neck. “This is for when we get to Bogart—not everyone back there has one.”

  Medusa glanced down at the device, then looked up. “So many things,” she mused. Then, with a hint of excitement, she added, “All right, I think it’s time. I’d like to see the flying machine now. Can we go?”

  “Of course, we’re all going back to Fort Bogart together.”

  “That’s where you all live?” Medusa asked. “I’ve never heard of it. Where is it?”

  “Oh, not too far from here, by air. It sits high on a cliff far away from any cities and towns. Shouldn’t take long at all. We’ll be there just in time for dinner. What do you say to more food?”

  “I find that agreeable. Can I bring some of my things? It won’t take long.” Medusa hesitated. “Will I be able to return if I ever wanted to?”

  “Of course. This is still your home,” Jim said.

  She returned a short time later with a small bundle tied in cloth and slung over her shoulder with a makeshift strap. The group turned and made their way toward the exit.

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