There was a mighty crack, the snapping of sinew and bone as her foe's body crumpled. Dropping the steel cable from her hands, Jennifer watched as the Lola's form slumped into the icy waters, dead. It was over, she had finally put an end to the madness, she had won.

Sore and tired, Jennifer Harper waded over to the derelict prison island of Alcatraz, sitting on the desolate rock while she rested her battered body. Before her, the city of San Francisco sat alight, it's grandeur reduced to a blazing vista of toppled skyscrapers and dust. She knew it was her fault, she knew she was responsible for the carnage, chaos, death, and destruction, but Jennifer didn't care. Even as she choked the life out of her rival, she felt nothing. No sadness, no remorse, no relief. She stared at the burning city in silence, the dozens of helicopters watching her from all sides lying in wait for whatever came next. The whole world was perched in anticipation of the giant blonde's next move, something Jennifer didn't quite know, herself. She was at a loss about what she would do, where she would go, how she would eat. The tiny world felt like a barren wasteland, a cruel mockery of the life she once had. She couldn't live among this world, not as it was.

But Jennifer would not accept that.

What had happened to her and Lola was a freak accident perpetrated by god-knows who, it wasn't her fault. Jennifer never asked to be transformed into what she was, it seemed doubly unfair to be persecuted and mistreated when she was just as much a victim as anyone else. If the world wouldn't bend to allow her a place within it, then it would have to be broken into shape. It seemed too harsh a decision to make, but it was the only way to ensure her survival. Jennifer stood, the powerful silence broken as she took a few powerful steps into the bay before stopping. Towering over the water, she looked around, hoping there were still people left to hear her.

"Listen up." She called, her voice thunderous and powerful, carrying for miles.
"Just. Just do as I say for now and everything will be ok."

What came in the following weeks was an arrangement. An agreement formed by Jennifer and the surviving population of the San Francisco Bay and its surrounding cities. They would work to provide the titaness with sustenance and in return, Jennifer did her best to help rebuild but ultimately kept her distance to avoid causing any more destruction. The remnants of the coastal city were hesitant at first but when her hands-off approach was met with little response, the annoyed giantess made her terms a little more clear, threatening swift retribution if she wasn't fed. Initially, Jennifer found it hard to assert herself over the tiny people in such a domineering way, her comical first attempts filled with apprehension, perhaps even the last few remaining shreds of guilt within her. But, as she rationalized that it was necessary for her survival, the enormous ruler-to-be found herself growing into the role, likening it to playing a heel.

In her years of dreaming and aspirations of becoming a wrestler, Jennifer always pictured herself adored by the fans, celebrated as the hero, a face. She had concepted villainous heel personas in the past, but never anything more than a darker costume and some more risqué ring banter. She just couldn't see the appeal, preferring to win hearts over the jeers and boos. Still, Jennifer appreciated the vital role a villain played. Heroes were nothing without their counterpart and the relationship between face and heel was a delicate dichotomy, an elegance that allowed wrestling to be the masterclass in artful storytelling that it was. And so, as the time passed and Jennifer grew more comfortable with her persona, the "Dark Goddess" emerged.

Of course, her tenuous agreement with the remnants of San Francisco attracted unwanted attention and The United States government soon took umbrage with her demands. Lola, when she was alive, was deemed the "larger" threat by military analysts and after her defeat, the government ultimately scrapped Colonel Hutchinson's plan to use a nuke as a plan B, believing Jennifer to be a more reasonable and diplomatic entity. Soon, waves of armed forces were deployed to "negotiate" with the prospective new ally, however every attempt was met with the same grim resolution, each negotiator ending up a smear on the cracked pavement. Most of the conflict was prompted by the military first with Jennifer acting in defence, but by fifth deployment of troops and tanks, the lone giantess was done playing their game. She was tired.

Jennifer didn't want to live like this, she refused to be bullied by old men that sought to intimidate her into submission with their fancy army of puny, disposable soldiers. As she grew more and more fed up with the constant persecution, her retaliation against the armed forces became more and more severe and brutal, but the assaults never stopped. After days upon days of conflict, Jennifer realized that she needed to tackle the problem at its source. To kill the weeds completely, she had to destroy the roots, and so, the humongous heel hatched a plan.

It took some time to get things in motion, helped in part by the growing tide of supporters, but soon the entire economy of the Bay Area became solely focused on the continued effort to provide food for Jennifer. Opinion shifted, people were "persuaded", and soon, the gigantic woman's following grew more and more devoted, willing to do anything in the name of their cruel goddess and her devilish power. She had fully embraced her new persona, enjoying the fun and flair that came with being the unrepentantly malicious heel, a powerful mistress to be feared and adored. In time, she came to see her worshippers less as people and more of a commodity, a workforce of devoted drones existing solely to please their mighty matriarch and fan the flames of her growing ego. With her basic needs met, the titanic diva was pleased but far from content.

She had tasted the power, the dominance, she wanted more and with her support growing faster than ever, Jennifer knew it was time to exact her plan and kill the pesky weeds once and for all. She rallied her people, gathering her most spirited and fanatical of worshippers. Together, the towering blonde lead her devout on a bloody assault of the nearby Air Force base, Pillar Point, wiping out nearly all the personnel stationed there while claiming the precious military assets present for her cause, including the very nuclear warhead planned to be used against her. The victory was a decisive one, an illuminating one. As she effectively stomped out a military installation, the towering diva came to realize that if one base could fall so easily, surely the rest of them would too.

Slowly, Jennifer and her growing army spread eastward, carving a bloody path across The United States in her conquest for more power. Her strength and numbers increased with each battle as she subsumed more and more into her ranks, marching unchallenged towards Washington D.C.
Jennifer's trajectory had long since been predicted and the American capital was fortified into the last bastion of leadership for the country, but even the staggering degrees of defence could not stop the tide of the terrible titaness and her armies from rolling over D.C. They marched, unchallenged towards the seat of power, forcing a strategic surrender by a president that had no choice but to overturn control to the immense conquerer.

Yet Jennifer was still not content. As her legions of devout followers, ballooned into the millions, her power and influence infesting the once free United States, the cruel goddess took her campaign north into Canada. She and her armies crossed the border into Ontario and with the entirety of the American military now at her back, the northern commonwealth folded after the first wave of defences were completely obliterated, surrendering well before she even made it to Ottawa. It was a satisfying victory, but Jennifer wanted to be sure her dominance was truly recognized, sitting upon the Canadian parliament to solidify her control. The historic landmark made for a pitiful throne, but as she rested her immense ass on the splintered remains of the Canadian government, the towering tyrant wondered how Britain would feel about her taking their property. Surely the Crown wouldn't be to happy, but if they had qualms, Jennifer was more than eager to show those stuffy imperialists across the pond who was really in charge.

Her work in the north finished, the beautiful blonde behemoth went south, leading her armies towards Mexico. It was clear to the world what her grim campaign entailed and upon witnessing the conquest of it's continental neighbours, the last free North American nation knew it had no chance against the approaching onslaught. There was disquiet within the country's leadership about whether to put up any kind of resistance, but ultimately, the southern nation surrendered to the cruel colossus before she even reached Texas. All three countries fell with little fanfare and soon Jennifer Harper, the once-hopeful and optimistic young woman, held an entire continent in her controlling clutches. Though amused by the ease of her efforts, Jennifer almost felt insulted at how little force she needed to employ in order to achieve her goals. The villainous vixen wanted an excuse to flex her might, display her almost comical levels of power to the rest of the world, put on a show, but she wasn't about to go galavanting about on land that now belonged to her. The nervous nations across the globe would just have to wait for her demonstration of power, as would she.

She returned west, to San Francisco. Reconstruction of the city had begun and slowly, the new settlement began to take form, moulded by Jennifer's influence into her seat of power. Banners and flags flew in her honour, effigies and statues were erected in reverence, and the lonely prison, Alcatraz, was converted into her very own personal throne. Shimmering in the hot Californian sun, this towering icon of opulence and absolute power shot into the sky, it's golden seat lined with velvet cushions and tassels that must've been at least 100ft long. With a pleased grin, Jennifer sat atop her new throne, her curvaceous ass and hips filling out the entirety of the seat, but it was a snug, comfortable fit. As she lounged, doing her best to embody the spirit of her new gift, cargo helicopters carrying huge, custom jewelry flanked her on all sides, embellished with stained glass and polymer. She took the bangles, the earrings, the anklets, the pendants, and wore them proudly, her regalia fitting of a woman of her stature, a queen, an empress.

She had tasted power. Looking inland, everything that Jennifer saw, and everything beyond the horizon past that, belonged to her. As she lounged atop her glorious throne, the young woman felt accomplished, important, successful in a way that seemed to spill right out of her wildest dreams. For a moment, for the first time in a long time, Jennifer felt satisfied. Her conquest was deserving of a rest, but still, she was not content. Countries around the globe waited in fear, dreading the inevitable day that the power-hungry goddess turned her attention towards them. Her unified continent, her global superpower, was enough for now, but Jennifer wanted it all. She wanted the world.

And soon, that would be hers, too.

THE (ALTERNATE) END