An old villain returns to take more power than ever. Innocents are rounded up and attacked. The nation becomes brainwashed. A spectacular arena game threatens to bring the country to its knees. A legion of rebels fights back.

No, this isn't the Hunger Games. Nor Harry Potter. It's not Firefly, Avatar: the Last Airbender, X-Men, or Buffy either. It's Russia 2014. And it might be the most fantastical saga in our reality right now.

To Western eyes, Russia looks pretty grim. Putin's Olympics spectacle has passed the $50 billion mark in terms of spending, and has been censured for environmental and labor rights violations. Homosexual "propaganda" has been banned, as "Occupy Pedophilia" vigilantes make LGBT Russians their new victims, turning the country into a battleground for gay rights. Taking matters to an almost comic extreme, the Russian Government has started killing stray dogs in Sochi. Looking like second act villains from a Mad Max movie, a biker gang called the Night Wolves patrols the land, spouting off pro-Orthodoxy rhetoric. Their leader is sinisterly known as "The Surgeon."

Before the Sochi Olympics became an international convergence for criticism against Putin's reign, a DIY collective of angry women was yelling out against the rule of the Orthodoxy and punitive government control over gender and social rights in Russia. Working as an anonymous rally squad, Pussy Riot showed up without warning at sites like the Red Square, and, most infamously, at the Cathedral of Christ the Savior on February 21, 2012. They wore bright, itchy balaclavas and jammed out until they went hoarse with amusingly literal lyrics that took aim at Putin.

When three of the band's leading members - Nadezhda (Nadya) Tolokonnikova, Yekaterina (Katya) Samutsevich, and Maria (Masha) Alekhina - were imprisoned and sent to labor camps for "hooliganism," Pussy Riot became an international - nay, intergalactic - lightning rod in feminist discourse, joining the trending pantheon with Lena Dunham and Malala Yousafzai. Madonna and Peaches sang about their Russian sisters to hordes of live fans. The documentary "Pussy Riot: A Punk Prayer" was released stateside by HBO and was shortlisted for the 2014 Academy Awards. Fans and supporters took to social media and youtube to show support.

Just in time for the Olympics, the incarcerated - and now infamous - band members have been released. Tolokonnikova and Alekhina are blazing through the United States with a marathon press tour focused on defaming the Olympics sideshow and calling attention to grave human rights violations in Russian prisons and labor camps.

Although the two former band mates are charming new fans and celebrities alike, they're no longer Pussy Riot. The band's current vocal membership has stated that the celebrity of Tolokonnikova and Alekhina violates Pussy Riot's intrinsic ideals of anonymity, spontaneity, and atraditional entertainment.

Even though Putin's approval ratings are astonishingly high and punitive measures in Russia are more aggressive than ever, there's never been a better time for Pussy Riot to make a big move on a global stage. As all eyes fall upon their home turf and two of their former members become public darlings, the members of Pussy Riot have to decide how to make their notoriety count, while the iron is hot.

Pussy Riot needs numbers and voices from around the world to act at a scary, consistent, incessant level. It needs men and women of every combination of racial and social identity to put on a balaclava. It needs a legion that understands the power of group action, spontaneous and outrageous public performance, and gestalt community.

Of course, there's a banging movement ripe for opportunity; that is, if they're approached properly.

From Browncoats to Trekkies to the 501st Legion to Catwomen, fans and geeks have made their presence known in the past few years. Passionate readers, viewers, and collectors have changed the media landscape, driving box office sales and saturating social media with homemade costumes, convention culture, and involved dialogue on their beloved texts.

These fans cherish genre works of epic scale: wars and evil regimes, unlikely heroes (often female), and the chance to take action to change the world. Women who dress like Katniss Everdeen or Daenarys Targaryen aren't just in it for the retweets; they embody these avatars to find inspiration and connection with characters who take risks and make bold moves for moral and social change. Convention floors and chat rooms allow space for passion, self-declaration, and connection.

Though Pussy Riot may be inherently anti-capitalist, it's undeniably collectible. With a scissors and glue aesthetic, spunky costuming, rebellious ambition, and an open communal identity, Pussy Riot could be the most marketable and inhabitable political movement there is today. Like Luke Skywalker or Hermoine Granger, a ski-mask rocker chick proves that anyone can spit in the face of the enemy. By turning their present battle into a pop culture text, the collective stands a chance of turning their saga into art, and their art into cult. Unlike fictional sagas which have already come to an end, Pussy Riot's war is ongoing. It doesn't have to be read. It can be lived. Their fans can play an active part in the battle. Hundreds of thousands of fans dedicate time, money, and creative skill towards their convention floor identities. If the line between fantasy and real life can be blurred, these dedicated followers could become an ideal army.

"Anybody can be Pussy Riot," Tolokonnikova said at an Amnesty International Event last week. Bruce Wayne said the same thing about Batman in The Dark Knight Rises just two years ago.

We've got the costumes. The world is listening. Time to put on the mask.