The ground shuddered violently beneath Maya's feet, the tremors rolling through the city like the heartbeat of an angry god. Dust filled the air, turning sunlight into a choking haze as bricks and beams came crashing down. She stumbled out of what had been their living room, clutching her youngest son against her chest. His small body trembled, his cries muffled by the thick dust that clung to everything. Somewhere above, the roof caved in completely, swallowing the life they had built in a cloud of splintered wood and shattered glass.
"Puja!" her husband, Arun, shouted from somewhere inside, his voice hoarse and panicked. The sound of collapsing walls and twisting metal drowned him out for a moment, then returned louder, rawer. "Puja!"
Maya tried to answer but coughed instead, her throat burning from the dust. She stumbled forward, clutching her son tighter, praying the ground would stop moving. It didn't. The earth rolled beneath her feet like storm-tossed waves, throwing her to her knees. She pressed her forehead against her child's hair, whispering words she could barely form. "It's okay, baby, it's okay… just hold on."
When the shaking eased, the silence that followed was worse. It was heavy, full of the sound of people realizing what they had lost. The street outside was unrecognizable, walls split open, power lines down, the smell of smoke and dirt thick in the air. Neighbors stumbled past, their faces pale and streaked with grime. Some shouted for loved ones, others just stared blankly at the ruins of their homes.
A faint cry pierced through the noise. Puja.
Arun turned instantly toward the sound, dropping to his knees before the pile of bricks and splintered wood that had once been their daughter's room. "Puja! I'm here!" His hands dug into the debris, scraping and bleeding as he pulled at anything he could move. Maya joined him, setting her son down just long enough to help lift a broken door frame. Each piece they moved only revealed more ruin.
The ground rumbled again, a smaller tremor this time, but Maya still flinched, her body tensing. She whispered prayers through cracked lips, begging any god that would listen. Around them, the cries of others filled the air. Children screamed for their parents. The sound of someone sobbing nearby mixed with the wailing of sirens in the distance.
Then something changed.
A light, faint but growing, shimmered through the dust. At first Maya thought it was her mind playing tricks on her, sunlight through the haze. But then the light moved, deliberate and strong. A figure emerged above the ruined street, descending from the sky as if untouched by the chaos below.
The woman was radiant. Her armor shimmered in shades of green and bronze, catching what little light broke through the dust. A long white cape trailed behind her, rippling in the wind. Her eyes burned with determination as she hovered over the devastation.
"Everyone stay calm!" the woman called, her voice carrying above the noise. "I will get you to safety!"
Maya froze. Arun stopped digging, staring up in disbelief as the woman swooped down, catching a collapsing beam midair and tossing it aside as if it were weightless. The debris that had been seconds from crushing a trapped family was gone in an instant. She moved faster than Maya's eyes could follow, lifting people from the rubble, shielding others with her body as fragments fell from above.
"She's… flying," Arun whispered, awe and confusion mingling in his voice.
The woman landed beside them, her armor barely scuffed despite the dust and falling debris. "Are you alright?" she asked quickly, kneeling beside Arun.
"My daughter," he said, his voice cracking. "She's still—she's under there—please—"
The woman didn't hesitate. She placed a hand on the wreckage, eyes narrowing for a moment. Then she began to lift, the muscles in her arms flexing as she hoisted beams of concrete and twisted rebar as though they were paper. Within seconds, she uncovered a small pocket of air, Puja, curled up, trembling but alive.
Maya gasped, reaching forward as the woman gently lifted the girl into her arms and handed her over. "She's safe," the woman said softly. "She's a brave one."
Maya held Puja close, tears streaming down her face as she looked up at the woman. "Who are you?"
The woman hesitated only a moment before answering. "I'm Rogue," she said. "The Apostle of the God Jupiter."
The name hung in the air, strange and unfamiliar among the crowd. Murmurs spread through the survivors like ripples in water.
"Jupiter?" someone whispered. "The Roman god?"
"Not Shiva? Not Vishnu?" another asked in confusion. "A foreign god?"
Maya barely heard them. All she could see was the woman—Rogue—flying again, pulling people from rubble, blocking falling debris with her own body. Each movement was precise, powerful, purposeful. The air itself seemed to bend around her, as though the storm that had torn their world apart now obeyed her instead.
Even as the ground trembled again, she didn't falter. She shielded children beneath her cape, carried the injured to open ground, and called out directions with a steady voice that cut through the panic.
Maya felt something shift inside her, a fragile, trembling thing called hope. For the first time since the quake began, she believed they might survive this.
—
What had Jupiter sent her into? Anna didn't stop to think. She moved fast, soaring through the smoke-filled air of Nepal's ruined streets. The once bustling city was unrecognizable, buildings half collapsed, fires spreading, dust choking the air. The screams of the injured and frightened echoed all around her. Every instinct told her to freeze, to crumble beneath the sheer horror of it all, but she didn't. She couldn't. Jupiter's words echoed in her mind, calm yet powerful, reminding her that he believed in her. That she could be humanity's light in moments like this.
A burst of movement caught her eye, people trapped near an overturned bus, others clawing at rubble with bare hands. The devastation pressed down on her like a weight, but she forced herself forward. When someone had asked earlier who she was, she'd hesitated only a second before answering with the first thing that came to mind, Jupiter's Apostle. The name had stuck. And now, as people looked up at her in disbelief, she had to live up to it.
"A building's collapsing! There's a family still inside!" someone shouted, panic cracking their voice.
Anna turned sharply toward the sound, spotting a man waving frantically beside a crumbling three story structure. He looked wary at first, confused by her sudden arrival, but the desperation in his eyes overpowered everything else. "They're in there!" he said, pointing to the wreckage.
Anna didn't waste a breath. She shot toward the building, the force of her flight blasting dust and debris aside. Inside, the air was thick, heavy with the scent of smoke and concrete. Her eyes darted around until she spotted them, four people, huddled together in what used to be a living room. One of them, a middle aged man, was pinned under a fallen pillar.
"Hey," she said, landing lightly amid the chaos. Her tone was calm but firm, the kind that left no room for panic. "Don't worry. I've got you."
The family stared at her, disbelief etched on their faces. Anna forced a reassuring smile and braced herself against the pillar. Her hands dug into the cracked stone, and with a deep breath, she lifted. Muscles tensed, the ground groaned, but the pillar gave way. The family gasped, watching as she set it aside with ease.
"Everyone out, now!" she said, breaking open a section of the wall with a single strike to clear their path. Light poured in through the gap, along with a gust of air.
They didn't need to be told twice. The mother ushered her children out first, tears streaking her dust covered face. "Thank you," she whispered, voice trembling as she looked back at Anna.
Anna only nodded, her heart pounding. As the family fled into the open air, she looked around at the destruction that stretched endlessly beyond her. Smoke rose from the ruins in wavering columns, the smell of dust and burning wood mixing in the air. For what felt like hours, though it had been barely twenty minutes, she had done nothing but move, one rescue after another, crossing shattered villages and broken cities.
To her, it felt endless. Every cry for help echoed in her chest like a pulse she couldn't ignore. Her arms ached, her throat was dry, but she didn't stop. Not when she could still hear people calling out. Not when she remembered Jupiter's words before she left.
When she finally stopped, the world was eerily quiet. Anna floated high above what remained of the city, watching as the trembling earth slowly settled. Helicopters buzzed in the distance, and the once frantic cries had given way to a stunned silence. Below her, survivors huddled together, bandaged and dirt-streaked, yet alive. She exhaled deeply, not realizing she had been holding her breath for so long.
Descending slowly, she landed near a cluster of emergency tents where local authorities were organizing survivors. People noticed her immediately. Some pointed, others whispered her name, Rogue. Somehow, it had spread faster than she could have imagined.
"Rogue!" a police officer called out, jogging toward her. His uniform was torn and dust-covered, but his expression was one of genuine relief. "Thank you for your help. We've done a full sweep of this area, no casualties reported. Everyone's accounted for."
Anna blinked, the words taking a moment to sink in. No casualties. The corners of her lips lifted into a soft, genuine smile. "That's good," she said, her voice steady but filled with quiet relief. "That's really good."
The officer hesitated, studying her face for a moment before asking, "Are you truly the apostle of a god?"
She met his gaze, the faintest hint of amusement flickering in her eyes at how surreal that question still sounded, even now. "Yes," she said softly. "I'm the apostle of the god Jupiter. He sent me here to help everyone."
The man's expression shifted, a mixture of wonder and reverence crossing his features. He bowed his head slightly. "Then we shall show our gratitude to such a gracious god," he said.
Anna hesitated at that. She'd heard people offer thanks to Jupiter before, some out of faith, some out of fear, but hearing it now, in the middle of so much devastation, felt different. She wanted to say something, maybe that Jupiter didn't demand worship, that he had only wanted her to protect them. But she didn't. Instead, she gave a small, tired smile and nodded.
"Take care of everyone," she said quietly. "You're the ones who'll help them rebuild."
The man nodded firmly. "We will."
Anna took a step back, her boots leaving faint impressions in the dust. Then, without another word, she rose from the ground, the wind swirling beneath her. The people below looked up, shielding their eyes as she climbed higher, until she was little more than a glint of light against the smoke-filled sky.
From above, she could see the scars the quake had left on the land, fractures running through roads and rivers, towns reduced to rubble, mountains still trembling in the distance. She closed her eyes briefly, letting the silence of the sky surround her.