Prepare her for an unknow fate

Velvet Vixen lies limp and unconscious in the center of the glowing greenhouse. Her body is draped across a thick bed of moss and flowers, cape askew, one leg slightly bent, her head lolled to the side as soft moonlight pours down through the glass ceiling above.

Daisy, grinning like a girl who just won first prize at the county fair, crouches beside her and gently lowers her all the way to the ground. Her hands aren’t exactly gentle, but they’re certainly… appreciative.

“Whew,” she murmurs, her eyes trailing slowly over every curve of the heroine’s costume. “You weren’t lyin’, Venus… she is so sexy up close.”

Her fingers brush the edge of Velvet Vixen’s corset, linger at her waist, then slide down one thigh as she hums in delight.

“Shame we gotta get rid of her,” she pouts, stroking the unconscious Vixen’s hair. “She’s so soft. Can’t we keep her?”

Venus stands nearby, backlit by the glow of the bioluminescent flowers, arms folded beneath the sweep of her red hair. Her face is calm, thoughtful.

“We can’t,” she says simply.

Daisy looks up, frowning.

“But why? I mean—”

“Because Cleo asked,” Venus cuts in, turning away to examine a vine with glistening white petals. “And I owe her. She called in the favor from prison. She wants the Velvet Vixen… gone.”

There’s a pause.

Venus slowly turns and walks over to the motionless heroine.

She kneels beside her and gently cups Velvet Vixen’s cheek. The heroine’s lips part slightly in her unconscious daze. Her mask has slipped just enough to show the soft edge of vulnerability beneath it.

“Such a waste,” Venus murmurs, her fingers trailing down Kendrick’s jawline. “She really is beautiful. It’s a shame to watch a flower like this wilt.”

She sighs.

“Daisy.”

“Yes ma’am?”

“Take her. Start getting her ready.”

Daisy’s eyes light up. She salutes with a cheeky grin.

“You got it. One glamour girl, comin’ right up.”

She bends down, hooks her arms beneath Velvet Vixen’s legs and shoulders, and lifts the superheroine into her arms like a bride being swept away—though in this case, the honeymoon leads somewhere far less romantic.

Venus watches them go, her hand lingering on the edge of a vine as she exhales softly, almost regretfully.

“Let’s just make it beautiful,” she says to no one in particular. “If she has to go… she’ll go in bloom.”