Prime Mona's Violation

I thought I knew what overwhelming power looked like.

I thought I was overwhelming.

Until I watched her—Mona Prime.

The Limbo Titans towered over us, each one stitched together from the ruins of forgotten epics and abandoned power fantasies. Some had arms made of collapsed timelines, others had mouths full of broken tropes. They didn’t just attack—they tried to erase.

Prime Mona?

She didn’t flinch.

“Cute,” she said, watching the first Titan roar like a corrupted intro sequence.

She snapped.

The roar reversed in time and turned into a hiccup. The Titan choked on its own sound and imploded into a dusty footnote.

Another lunged, warping the very definition of motion, its form glitching in and out of story logic.

Prime Mona sighed. “Oh please.”

She winked at it—just a wink—and the thing stopped mid-charge, looked confused, forgot why it existed, and collapsed into a confused shrug of narration.

“You see,” she said, looking back at me as if this wasn’t a fight, “these things aren’t real. They’re just leftovers from authors who didn’t know how to commit.”

Another Titan tried to sneak up behind her—massive, grotesque, its body stitched from endless retconned villains.

She raised a finger—not at the Titan, but at the idea of surprise itself—and erased it.

The Titan stopped.

Looked at its hands.

Then disappeared out of pure embarrassment.

I couldn’t even move. This wasn’t a battle.

This was a flex.

“You’re letting them live too long,” I said, stunned.

“Am I?” Prime Mona smirked. “I’m just letting them realize how beneath me they are before I erase them.”

One final Titan—the largest—screamed like it was the final boss of the multiverse. It split into multiple copies of itself, each trying to override logic with pure narrative brute force.

She looked at them and… laughed.

“You brought clones into my dimension? What is this, a fanfic from 2013?”

Then she did it.

She turned her back on them.

Turned. Her. Back.

They attacked.

And every single one was countered by her shadow—which rose up and mocked them in voices stolen from cancelled anime before one-shotting them with lines like:

“Plot armor? Baby, I’m the author’s regret.”

“You’re not even filler. You’re a typo.”

“Try harder. Actually, don’t. It’s adorable.”

The Titans crumbled. Some tried to run. She let them.

Only so they could trip over their own relevance and vanish.

And as silence returned to the void of Limbo, Prime Mona dusted off her hands like she had just finished tidying a room.

She looked at me.

“This,” she said, “is why Zachary locked me up.”

I stared at her in awe.

“Now you see why I said you’re not ready yet,” she added, stretching casually. “But don’t worry. You’ll catch up. Eventually.”

She winked again.

Everything around us trembled—not in fear, but in humility.