Velvet Lounge, Underground Meeting Hall – Toledo, Northwest Ohio.

  The lights were dim but stylish—retro bulbs swinging from copper wires, walls lined with velvet drapes and soft techno humming beneath whispered voices. In what was once a wine bar, now hidden beneath a florist shop, Ezra Quinn stood in front of a semi-circle of hardened women. They weren’t easily impressed—femme alliance leaders from Lima and Findy, feminist professors from Bowling Green, even former Catholic school teachers who had defected quietly from the underground.

  Ezra looked radiant but practical. Dark green jumpsuit, combat boots, clipboard in one hand, the other resting casually on her hip. She was no longer just an escape network leader. She was the face of a movement that now had state funding—and 6C’s strategic backing.

  “I’m not here to convert your hearts,” Ezra began, her voice cool, persuasive, "but I am here to offer options.”

  A few eyebrows rose.

  “The Velvet Exodus is no longer just about escaping. We’re building. Territory. Culture. Influence. The Femme Cuse has given us space—we can either retreat from it, or we can rule it.”

  Someone scoffed. Alicia Menard, 50s, ex-nun, now a feminist coordinator in Findy.

  “Rule it? You mean serve it. You’re working for 6C now.”

  Ezra smiled without backing down.

  “I’m negotiating with it. There's a difference.”

  She clicked a remote. A slide projected onto the brick wall:

  2.5 Million Femme Expansion Grant – Northwest Ohio

  *Femme-Owned Housing Co-Ops

  *Femme Legal Aid Fund

  *Femme Cultural Centers in Toledo, Lima, and Findy

  *Content Creators & Femme Podcasts

  Monthly Femme Partner *Stipends for Registered Couples

  Gasps rippled through the room. Even the skeptics leaned in.

  “This is conditional,” said another woman, Dr. Lacey Ortega, gender studies lecturer.

  Ezra nodded. “Of course. But not on worship. Just narrative.”

  She paced slowly.

  “You promote 6C in name. You preach loyalty publicly. You register your Femme retionships. In exchange—you operate as you always dreamed.”

  Alicia narrowed her eyes. “And the Catholic resistance?”

  Ezra turned fully to face her.

  “They’re failing. They cling to martyrdom while we’re shaping the future. If they won’t evolve, we will outgrow them.”

  “They preach salvation. I offer infrastructure.”

  The room went still. For a moment, even the most devout ex-nuns couldn’t deny the opportunity.

  Then Lacey asked the question on everyone’s mind.

  “And what does Hezri get from this?”

  Ezra didn’t hesitate.

  “He gets the illusion of control.”

  She paused.

  “We get everything else.”

  ***

  Aftermath of the Velvet Lounge Meeting – Secret Email Thread, "Feminist Front NW Ohio"

  Subject: Re: Ezra Quinn’s Offer – Emergency Discussion Required

  From: Dr. Lacey Ortega

  To: Feminist Front Core (15 members)

  Email Body:

  Sisters—

  Tonight's meeting with Ezra Quinn has forced a reckoning. I know we’ve all admired what she built with Velvet Exodus. But aligning with 6C—even strategically—isn’t a small shift. It’s a paradigm change.

  Yes, 2.5M could change lives. We could finally fund clinics, shelters, media that isn’t buried by algorithmic bcklists. But the price? Legitimizing a regime that criminalizes male queerness, purges theology, and legalizes state-run polygamy.

  Ezra says “we get everything else.” But what happens when 6C tightens the leash? Or when one femme couple breaks an unspoken rule and vanishes?

  I propose an internal vote:

  Do we accept Ezra’s alliance proposal or not?

  We vote anonymously by midnight.

  ...

  Later That Night – Encrypted Chat, “FemCore Secure”

  Alicia Menard:

  I’ve seen where martyrdom leads. Nowhere. We need territory, not pride. Ezra’s offer isn’t compromise—it’s a Trojan horse. We can use 6C money to protect our vision.

  Savannah G., Podcast Producer:

  Agree with Alicia. We’re already suffocating under Catholic surveilnce in Toledo. Let the Vatican ghosts judge—we need bandwidth and shelters.

  Lacey Ortega:

  You’re dreaming if you think 6C won’t notice subversion. They invented media warfare. You promote their theology now, they’ll own your archives forever.

  Janelle B., Youth Organizer (21):

  Maybe this is a generational thing. Ezra’s femme cuse got my girlfriend and me our first real apartment. You talk resistance—we’re living revival.

  Two Days Later – Secret Vote Results (Anonymous):

  YES to Ezra’s offer: 9

  NO to Ezra’s offer: 6

  Immediate Fallout:

  1) Lacey Ortega and two senior feminists resign from the Front and begin organizing a new cell: “The Secur Resistance.”

  2) Younger femme leaders, especially those in content creation, LGBTQ circles, and housing co-ops, align fully with Ezra—calling themselves the “Femme Ascendancy.”

  ***

  Abandoned Art School Loft – Bowling Green, Northwest Ohio.

  The cracked window let in faint morning light, scattering over dust-covered easels and broken statues. The space had long been recimed by academics-turned-activists—members of The Secur Resistance, led by Dr. Lacey Ortega. Once a feminist theorist, now she managed a cell that quietly published anti-theocratic literature, smuggled into Michigan and Pennsylvania.

  Today, however, the visitor was unexpected—and impossible to ignore.

  Vega, cd in a tailored matte-bck coat with blood-red lining, stepped through the entrance with calcuted poise. No security. No entourage. Just her. The room fell silent.

  “You can rex. I’m not here as 6C enforcer,” Vega said, her voice smooth and calm, “I’m here as a strategist.”

  Lacey crossed her arms. “If you’re here to sell Ezra Quinn’s vision, you’re te. We’ve already walked away.”

  Vega chuckled. “Ezra? She builds bridges. I burn roads.”

  She pced a sleek bck case on the table. Opened it. Inside: three folders marked INFRASTRUCTURE, LEGAL, and MEDIA, and a chip marked SEED FUND – 1.2M.

  “You hate the Catholics,” Vega said bluntly. “So do we. Not for their doctrine, but for their defiance. They’ve been targeting feminist shelters. Reporting Femme registrars. Blocking clinic supply lines.”

  Lacey’s jaw tightened, eyes narrowing.

  “You cim to fight for women’s freedom, but you’re wasting bullets fighting Ezra while Deacon Mendez builds bunkers beneath Toledo.”

  Dr. Ortega stared at the folders. The others murmured.

  “We don’t need loyalty,” Vega continued, “just alignment. Public denunciation of Catholic resistance. Start a media campaign—feminist critiques of underground patriarchy. Frame them as the true enemies of femme liberation.”

  “We’ll fund the rest. And protect your speech—under the Femme Cuse, even theocrats can’t touch you.”

  One younger securist, Marisol, looked to Lacey. “They’re worse than 6C. They spy on clinics and bcklist women who’ve left the Church.”

  Lacey looked between Vega and the case. “What’s in it for you?”

  Vega didn’t flinch.

  “We can’t win back Ezra’s new world with force. But we can isote the old one. You’re the scalpel. I’m just here to hand it to you.”

  A long silence. Then Lacey closed the case with a firm snap.

  “You’ll get your campaign.”

  ***

  Toledo Underground Basilica – Midnight Response Strategy Meeting.

  The Catacombs of St. Sebastian, once a wine celr beneath a defunct cathedral, now served as the beating heart of the Catholic Underground in Northwest Ohio. Candles flickered against aged brick walls, and a cross stitched from wires and rosary beads loomed over the central table where resistance leaders gathered.

  Deacon Carlos Mendez, graying but sharp-eyed, smmed down a printout of a viral podcast transcript.

  “‘Catholicism has become the st shelter of male supremacy masked as resistance’—that’s what they’re saying. And it’s catching fire with young women. We’re being outmaneuvered.”

  Across from him sat Sister Moira, a former nun-turned-scout who now ran sanctuary routes through Lima and Findy. “These femme-run shows aren’t just critiques. They’re exposing our safehouses. They’ve named shelters and priests.”

  “This isn’t public discourse,” Moira growled. “It’s a targeted burn campaign.”

  Father Luca, youngest in the circle and tech-savvy, brought up projections on a hacked tablet.

  “Since the smear started, we’ve lost two shelters in Findy. Two priests went dark. And confession attendance across our network is down by 30%. Even our own ywomen are questioning.”

  The room fell silent until Mendez spoke again—low and firm:

  “This is no longer just about 6C. This is Ezra Quinn’s game… but now it wears a secur mask.”

  Countermove: Operation Magdalene

  By morning, the underground had a three-pronged strategy:

  1) Testimonies from Reformed Women – Catholic women who had once joined Velvet Exodus or Femme alliances but returned after “disillusionment.” Their videos, tearful and intimate, were distributed in encrypted channels, slowly leaking onto closed ptforms frequented by religious Gen Z.

  2.Sanctified Aid Expansion – Quietly increase support for unaffiliated battered women and dispced queer girls, branding Catholic shelters as “open to the forgotten.” The idea was to draw contrast between 6C's selective femme freedom and Catholic mercy.

  3.Expose Vega’s Hand – Father Luca would orchestrate a data leak pointing to Vega’s financial fingerprints behind femme podcast funding. If the securists looked like tools of a theocracy, their credibility would falter.

  ***

  Femme Ascendancy Broadcast Studio – Toledo, Northwest Ohio

  The Femme Ascendancy had already anticipated a counterattack. Zara Lin, the rising star of 6C’s digital media strategy, was now the face of this covert war, a sharp tactician wielding social media like a scalpel. She sat in front of a bck microphone, eyes locked onto the red-lit "ON AIR" indicator. Behind her, screens fshed in rapid succession: a sprawling network of feminist podcasts, encrypted chatrooms, and media feeds.

  "Welcome back to FemmeFront, where we dismantle the lies and rewrite the narrative," Zara began, her voice cool, confident. "Tonight’s episode is brought to you by truth—and we’re going to peel back the ugly yers of the Catholic underground."

  The feed exploded with thousands of views as Zara’s words began to spread across multiple ptforms. She had cultivated a loyal following, a network of feminist influencers, podcasters, and activists who eagerly awaited the next salvo in this cultural war.

  The First Blow:

  Zara turned her attention to a special segment. A slickly produced video dropped, beled: “The Magdalene Hoax – The Truth Behind the Tears”.

  It featured several former Catholic women—no longer the disillusioned, quietly repentant figures the Catholic underground hoped would stand as martyrs. Instead, they were energetic, defiant, and ready to break the silence.

  “I was never ‘rescued’,” one woman said, her voice steady. “I wasn’t saved from sin. I was held hostage by an institution that treats women like property. This ‘testimony’ they’re touting? It’s a setup. They’re selling pain.”

  The camera panned to a second woman.

  “They’ve made us think we need their forgiveness. But I found true freedom in 6C’s Femme Cuse. I could love who I wanted, and my future—my voice—was mine.”

  The segment ended with a chilling, slow zoom on Zara’s face as she smirked.

  “You’ve heard it from them. Now, hear it from us. These testimonies are paid actors, recruited by the Catholic underground to spread lies. Let’s be clear: the Church isn’t about salvation—it’s about control. They will use anything, anyone, to stop progress.”

  ***

  Father Luca, one of the more tech-savvy leaders of the Catholic underground, had pnned a slick digital counter—expecting to pull back some control. But the response was swift. Zara’s team infiltrated the encrypted channels where Luca’s leaks were scheduled to nd.

  In minutes, a flood of contradictory information went public: confidential data showing that the so-called “reformed women” the Catholics had used for testimonials were, in fact, former operatives from underground sanctuaries. Their names appeared on lists of known undercover agents, and some had even been caught on tape running covert operations to mislead vulnerable women back into the fold of the Church’s control.

  “The truth is more dangerous than they thought,” Zara’s voice crooned over the test broadcast. “It’s not about saving women—it’s about saving an old patriarchal regime.”

  The leak hit harder than expected. Father Luca’s operation faltered as people began to question the authenticity of everything he had built. The more Zara spoke, the more cracks appeared in the carefully constructed facade of the Catholic resistance. Social media buzzed with posts showing evidence of the Catholic underground’s manipution of women, twisting their stories for political and religious gain.

  ...

  Paralysis Set In:

  A few days ter, Deacon Carlos Mendez tried to regain control, but by then the tide had turned. The Catholic resistance’s numbers dwindled as more women came forward with their stories—liberated women who’d seen the truth through Zara’s ptform.

  Zara’s calcuted use of Femme-empowered messaging paralyzed the Catholic underground’s ability to operate. Catholic media tried to fight back, but they cked the reach or influence that Zara and the Femme Ascendancy had cultivated over months of careful social engineering.

  Local shelters that had once supported the Catholic underground now found themselves caught in a new wave of feminist interest, with women registering in droves to help fund Femme-owned spaces. Churches had to contend with public protests, media scrutiny, and the loss of their safehouse infrastructure as more women chose to “recim” their autonomy by shifting allegiances to 6C-backed alternatives.

  ***

  Final Blow:

  The concluding episode of Zara's FemmeFront series was titled: “The Last Stand: The Catholic Underground Crumbles.” It was a searing, unrelenting deep dive into the Catholic resistance's desperate attempts to maintain control. The episode included testimony from women who had managed to escape Catholic strongholds, revealing how they’d been tracked, coerced, and maniputed into staying under their thumb.

  “They want to save us. But from what? From freedom? From our own lives?” Zara asked, leaning into the microphone with a deliberate, pointed pause. “We don’t need saving. We need freedom. And that is what 6C, however imperfect, is giving us.”

  With every post, every share, the Catholic underground weakened. The underground church’s influence in Toledo and beyond rapidly diminished. Members began to defect, quietly disbanding or choosing not to speak out in fear of being exposed. What had once been a powerful, entrenched resistance network now found itself fractured, struggling to maintain any form of cohesion against the tide of media pressure.

  ***

  Deacon Mendez's Safehouse – Toledo, Northwest Ohio – Night

  The once serene and well-organized safehouse had transformed into a custrophobic, chaotic pce. The stone walls, lined with rosaries and crosses, now seemed oppressive, closing in on Deacon Carlos Mendez. He sat in his dimly lit office, his fingers curled around a half-drunk gss of bourbon, his face drawn with fatigue. Outside, the city of Toledo hummed quietly, blissfully unaware of the internal colpse taking pce in its underbelly.

  Mendez's phone buzzed, the screen lighting up with multiple messages from Father Luca and Sister Moira. He didn’t need to read them to know what they contained. Femme Ascendancy had effectively crippled their operations.

  "We lost two more safehouses. The women are leaving, Mendez. They’re defecting to them."

  He ran his hand over his graying face, his mind racing through every failure, every misstep that led to this moment. What had once been an unshakable fortress of faith, rebellion, and control was now crumbling, piece by piece.

  ...

  Deacon Mendez Confronts Father Luca

  In a secure room beneath the basement, Mendez stood facing Father Luca, the tech-savvy and once-optimistic priest who had believed they could turn the tide. But Luca, as always, wore the look of someone resigned to the inevitable.

  “It’s over, Deacon,” Luca said quietly, his voice tinged with defeat. “Zara’s campaign—it was surgical. Clean. Every lie we’ve told is unraveling in front of the world. We have no one left who can hold the line. Even the women who stayed in the shadows are now turning away from us.”

  Mendez’s face hardened, his anger rising.

  “We can still salvage this. There must be something we can do to reverse it—destroy their credibility. They’re just women who’ve been brainwashed by 6C. We can—”

  “No,” Father Luca interrupted, his eyes piercing through the dim room. “We can’t fight what we can’t see. They’ve weaponized the truth. Zara Lin has us by the throat, and we’re the ones who handed her the knife.”

  Mendez’s eyes darkened. His mind churned through every contingency. He had always prided himself on strategy, on foresight. Yet this time, it felt like the world itself was spinning beyond his control.