Hypothetical dark academia novel in which instead of the crazed obsession being death, it is birth. Imagine a group of teenage girls drunk on the power they have to create life. They consider themselves gods. They drink wine, have bacchanals, and eat fruit in mossy caves on Sunday mornings. They gather every day before school to review the latest scientific discoveries over orange-peel tea. They write plays and raise their voices in excitement over new plot devices and marvel at the endless possibilities they have. The girls are avid feminists; they write essays and speeches about femininity and gender roles. They romanticize Renaissance women. They show up to school in all black, dress shirts rolled up to the elbow, hair in elaborate braids. Imagine the romances, the scheming, the poetry, the art, the speeches, the projects, the philosophical ramblings, the wide-eyed wonder and subsequent ambition.