Chapter 36 - "Needles & Smoke"
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**Underground Room. Somewhere in Western Peninsula.**
Echoes.
Slow, deliberate footsteps descending stone stairs.
*Clack… clack… clack…*
Then—whistling.
Soft. Cheerful. Almost playful.
*Whew-twee… whew-twee…*
The rhythm matched the steps perfectly.
The figure reached the bottom.
Whistling stopped.
A single overhead bulb flickered on.
She stepped into the light.
Half-cut pants—ragged at the knees. Loose shirt untucked. Long black coat—oiled, glistening like wet ink. Messy violet hair falling over one eye. Black gloves. Smile—wide, wrong, too many teeth.
She tilted her head.
"Why are you sad?"
The camera panned.
A man sat tied to a metal chair.
Fully nude.
Body pierced—dozens of long needles through skin, muscle, joints. Blood ran in slow rivers down his chest, thighs, pooling on the floor.
His lips—
Needles. Three thick ones. Inserted vertically—upper lip to lower lip—sealing his mouth shut.
He couldn't scream.
Only muffled sobs. Tears mixing with blood.
She smiled wider.
"Don't worry. You'll not be with—"
She pulled a spool of black thread from her coat pocket.
Threaded it through the three needles at his lips.
Yanked.
All three came out at once—wet, red.
He screamed.
"AAAHHHHHHH!!!"
Raw. Broken. Gasping.
She laughed—light, delighted.
"Cool down~"
She dragged a second chair over.
Sat facing him—legs crossed.
Leaned forward.
"A long time ago… someone told me women are born to serve men."
She took a cigarette from her coat.
Lit it with a silver lighter.
Inhaled deep.
Exhaled smoke into his face.
"No."
She pressed the burning tip to his chest.
He jerked—muffled cry.
"Women are the superior race."
Another press—sizzle.
"We are not like you males… or should I say—"
She leaned closer.
"—pigs."
She flicked ash onto his thigh.
"Now…"
She smiled again—sweet, terrible.
"Let's begin."
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**Western Peninsula — Greater Yamato Territory**
**(Formerly South Korea)**
Buildings collapsed into piles of rebar and glass. Streets cracked open. Sky gray with ash.
One office still stood—half its roof gone, room distroyed.
Inside: a woman sat alone.
Mid-40s. Short black hair streaked gray. Cigarette between her fingers.
She stared at nothing.
Smoke curled upward.
A man entered—tall, scarred face, tired eyes, cuts on face.
"You shouldn't be smoking. It's bad for your cancer."
She didn't look up.
"I know."
Another drag.
"But what can be better than dying?"
He stepped closer.
"Living."
She finally met his eyes.
He smiled—small, sad.
"Living with family. With loved ones."
She laughed—hoarse, through smoke.
"Loved ones? I wonder how many of those I have left."
He stepped closer. "What about them?"
She exhaled a long, gray cloud.
"They bomb anyone, at any time," she said.
"It was… many years ago now. But forget it."
She Stood up.
"Let's go. It's time for they should be coming."
He nodded.
She looked back.
They walked outside.
Into the ash.
Into the quiet.
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**Peak Harem Academy — Mio's room**
Mio sat cross-legged on her bed.
Old photo in her hands—her and her sister. Laughing. Arms around each other. Summer festival yukata. Fireworks in the background and Lily flowers.
She traced her sister's face with her thumb.
*How long has it been since we met?*
*I thought becoming an adult would be better. Freedom. Strength. But… without you… it's not worth it.*
She set the photo down gently.
Lay back.
Closed her eyes.
Darkness.
Then—a silhouette.
A woman—hanging.
Rope around neck.
Blood dripping—slow, steady—from her wrists.
Mio's breath caught.
She opened her eyes fast.
Heart pounding.
The room was quiet.
Too quiet.
She stared at the ceiling.
Tears slipped sideways—silent.
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*End*