Her green eyes did not so much flutter open as they slowly pulled their lids apart.
She gazed ahead, blurry vision revealing a few figures, all in hazardous material suits. Some seemed excited, one was recording notes, and one just stood, smiling inside their mask. Perception of sound was unusual. It seemed to blur together. Aching and stinging began to tear through her as her senses were restored.
I am flawed. More than usual.
She didn't so much speak as she pushed air out of her lungs, her throat pained with every vibration of her vocal cords.
“What…..happened….”
She could remember the past. Memory recollection intact. Uncertainty, concern, desperation and than panic as a gun had been placed upon her head. Determination as she had told Aozora not to bow before these terrorists. Agonising pain, blood splattering all over her, the filthy sensation eclipsed only by the torment of the wound itself as a crimson hole had been left in her shoulder. Shock. Dread, as she had waited in pain and suffering. Hope as she'd seen the Supreme Overlady of All Reality step inside. Despair as she had been captured, hatred as she had been forced to undergo torture, satisfaction as the traitors had been cut down, panic as the weapons had been released-
Weapons. The bioweapons. She cursed herself for taking so long to remember. She couldn't well interpret the conversation around her. One filled with delight and hope. Yet if they did not know about the weapons, Kyoki Chudoku was in dire peril.
“Bioweapons….the facility…”
Her voice was raspy. She realised she no longer she a mask to conceal her mouth and nose. At that thought, she recalled that suits those around her wore. They knew about the biological weapons. She cursed herself for being so slow to think. She was nowhere close to perfection. Perhaps her condition had made her sluggish, lethargic? That was no excuse.
Sound was less distorted now. It was unusual for the sense to be affected. Perhaps it was the result of the disease. Or, now she considered it, whatever was being used to treat her. No doubt there was a cocktail of various chemicals being pumped inside of her bloodstream. How long had she been unconscious for?
At last, the words of those around her were coherent. She remained disoriented, but improving. She turned her head slightly, peripheral vision revealing through a blurry haze a massive bandage placed upon her shoulder. She could feel another on her head as well, as the numbness began to depart her body. She had been shot, twice in fact. An operation would be needed to remove the bullets. She realised she'd at last identified the cause of these strange perceptions and this overwhelming yet fading lack of tactile feeling. It was the result of anaesthetics.
“Naosu…can you hear me?” came a high-pitched voice, muffled and slightly distorted yet finally audible. The Densetsu would have nodded, but her head was too restrained. Instead, she spoke once more, voice not above a whisper.
“Yes…”
“Thank goodness…you had us worried. I'll leave you to your rest.”
Naous recalled the other who had been with her. Aozora Chiyumi. Where was she? Surely the Supreme Overlady of All Reality would be here to witness this? No, that was a flawed assumption. She had been injured. Worse than injured. Nekofied, shot many times, then exposed to disease. She…could not be deceased. She was not so flawed as to…
“But…Aozora…”
“We can worry about her once you have recovered enough for there to be a solution.”
—————————————————————
It was a dark night in the streets of Idaina Nojo, the capital city of Nogyo District. Although the area was renowned largely for farms and forests, between the grassy meadows and the rivers flowing in the woods was the occasional town. Idaina Nojo was far larger than most. The sprawling city was filled with markets, apartments, and of course defensive structures. It was, after all, the base of the Chudokuren army.
Ienaga Takenao was not an expert on combat, not compared to the Hostile Environment Brigade soldiers patrolling around him. He was a soldier, but a fresh one. Ienaga had missed out the massacre of Nakusika, the occupation of Akhara, the many battlefields of the End of Democracy as it was known. He had heard of the horrors of war, but had never witnessed them himself. Not before now.
All that training on firing weapons, using them properly, using them accurately. Squad tactics, taking cover, when to throw grenades and when to fall back. Instinctive reactions built up over months of routine learning. Keeping calm under fire. Recognising friend from foe. It was all useless to him now.
Nothing could prepare a man for this.
Several sick men and women, children beside them, a squad lined up and armed. There was no incineration plant nearby, so a fire on the road would have to do. Everyone involved wore a facial mask, the soldiers also given gloves. Only their commander, a reassigned Hostile Environment Brigade officer, wore full armour. There simply wasn't enough in the budget for everyone to get a gas mask.
The street smelled like death, and not just the lingering odour of a former criminal left as a reminder. It was the smell of people rotting as they walked, every breath putrid, vultures and crows circling above as though awaiting carrion to consume. This was a city tainted by plague, the westernmost boundaries of the horrible weapons unleashed in that calamity at Sukui.
This is the fault of the enemy. This is the fault of them.
It was simple, his duty. That did not make it easy. In fact, he wanted to vomit, though the nauseous stench already almost made him puke. These were infected civilians. There was not enough room in the medical facilities to hold everyone, and if was doubtful they'd survive anyway.
“Prepare!”
The soldiers raised their rifles at the order of their commander. This was their duty to their country. They had to stop the plague spreading any further, they couldn't let people live on in such unwarranted suffering.
This is the fault of the enemy.
“Take aim!”
They didn't flee. Either they didn't want to live in the excruciating pain of disease, or they were too terrified to do anything. Some shivered. One woman was outright sobbing, a baby wailing. But remorse was not something a soldier could afford.
This is the fault of them.
“Fire!”
Screams, then silence. Shattered glass from failed shots. Some soldiers stepped forward instantly, picking up the now deceased bodies and carrying them over to the burning flame that now flickered, orange light reflected by the windows that remained intact. Others were more hesitant, stepping slowly and seeming to struggle with their mission.
Ienaga hadn't been able to bring himself to fire.
The commander turned to face him, as though glaring from within the helmet he wore. Ienaga gulped. He had defied orders. He hadn't shot. He was doomed. The commander got closer, towering over the young soldier.
“You have an hour to get back to barracks, collect yourself, and get back here. You need it. We all do…” muttered the veteran officer, gazing into the shining moon as the others dragged away the last body to throw into the fire.
———————————————
The sealed doors opened, and Naosu stepped inside, a full environmental protection suit enshrouding her. She had limped on the way in, and her arm could barely move without searing agony shooting through it, but she was no longer too weak to exit her hospital bed.
Kiku awaited her inside, also protected. This was an isolated chamber, with high security against both human and microbial intruders. Naosu stared at the various instruments, then at the monitors displaying a camera feed- even a window had been deemed too risky for this chamber.
On the display, she could see a figure laying in a medical bed, many wounds covered. However, that was not the most striking concern. Bullet wound could be healed with magic rather simply. Tenshi burn, the lingering purple and black upon the patient’s flesh, would be harder to resolve. Disease could be cured with the arcane, fortunately. There was not enough medical tenshi to cure many this way, but for this patient, any expense could be spared.
But the worst to fix would be those unnatural protrusions that had emerged.
Nekofication had long been used on prisoners to mark them, to punish them. It was a “warning punishment”, a reminder to obey or else suffer far worse. Many patients and test subjects had undergone the process for one reason or another. Kurushimi, one of the Densetsu, was also a neko, having enjoyed the agony the process brought her.
Seeing this upon the Supreme Overlady of All Reality was…wrong.
“How is she?” asked Kiku. She had asked other physicians prior, but evidently wanted Naosu’s opinion on the situation.
“She is experiencing infection, numerous projectiles have been removed from her body, tenshi burn has almost consumed her, and there has nekofication. The situation is sub-optimal.”
“Can you fix it?”
“The wounds and disease can be cured. Tenshi burn can be healed. However, I cannot do anything about the nekoficaton at this time. In her condition, amputation could be fatal. I will try to heal what I can. My other concern is her mental condition.”
“We have to try. When she gets up, she might be angry or scared or spiteful or insane. But she is our Supreme Overlady of All Reality, and we will obey her regardless. I will try to keep her calm and explain recent events, but those two may be effective opposites.”
“Do your best, as I will mine. That is the only way forward.”
———————————————
The sky was orange, as dawn rose in the forests of Nogyo.
Dawn. That most accursed time when all of this disaster had begun. The sky was turning grey now, but not because of the sun’s ascent. Rather, it was the smoke, rising into the air as trees burnt to ash and every last hiding place bombarded from afar and above.
Sakiyama Ryutaro was lucky to even be alive. He'd fled the facility just in time to avoid disaster. Scrambling over barbed wire, he'd cut himself badly, but his panic took him further and further away, and his troops with him. They had been spared the worst of the contamination. That didn't mean that every cough wouldn't inspire dread and terror inside of him.
Every day, a bomber would fly above somewhere nearby and rain incendiary bombs onto his position. Artillery in the distance pounded the forests with explosives and chemical shells. This was an enemy unseen not because of stealth, but because they were so far away they could fire with impunity.
He'd heard of the constant death across the district, of the plague he had unleashed. Sakiyama’s hope was diminishing every passing day. He'd wanted to be a liberator, to free people from torment and tyranny. Instead, he had brought death and suffering upon all.
“Why…” he muttered, the men and women around him looking at him with a mix of pity, empathy, misery and hatred. It was a question he'd been asking himself for days. Why had he done this? Was all this really his fault? He had been the one to disagree with the plan…and yet, even then, he'd continued onward with it. Chemical attacks were committed on his instruction.
Sakiyama had sat inside the facility with the other leaders of rebellion. None of them trusted the others enough to allow them out of sight in the facility, so it'd been agreed upon to all remain in that room. A fat lot of good that'd done. The weapons had been released anyway. Sakiyama didn't want to actually use them, he wanted no part of it, he had thought it was just a threat that would never be acted upon, to get their enemy to finally be in the position they wanted…
That was no excuse for this atrocity.
He walked. More walking, walking away from the flames and the gas and the enemy and the sickness. Yet he knew each step he took away from one fire took him one step closer to another. It was arduous, exhausting, futile. Many of his followers had been killed, one way or another. White phosphorus burning their skin and tearing through their body. Falling dead as phosgene flooded their lungs. Impaled by the shrapnel of an artillery shell.
Morale was low, to say the least. Food was hard to come by when half the forest was burnt to a crisp or poisoned. No water was safe, and purifying it was not easy. Their ammunition was low, every cough sparked paranoia, and every day was grim.
Sakiyama pressed on. But he wasn't sure how much longer he could manage it, before the flames finally caught up to him.
————————————————
The world slowly revealed itself to her as she awoke at last from her slumber.
She felt weak, tired, aching, with surges of agony across her body. Yet that was not all that felt wrong. There was something she wasn't used to, something that shouldn't be there. Memories flooded her. Those rebels, those traitors, she had carved them down, made them suffer for their defiance, their hideous attempt to harm her, and then-
She had fallen. Wounded, overexerted, exhausted, failing to get Naosu to safety, failing to get herself out. Yet she was alive. And judging from the green-haired physician before her, so was Naosu.
“I'm…alive.” she mumbled. She was tired and sore, but it felt as though she had enough strength to stand. Naosu’s medical magic was exceptionally useful for that. But Aozora’s mind was focusing on something else. For if she was alive, that meant death had spared her. She needed to make sure those who had caused this calamity were not so fortunate.
“Aozora! How do you feel?” asked Kiku. Aozora couldn't see her as well as Naosu- the protective suit didn't help either- but she recognised the voice instantly.
“Tired…weird…but that's not important. The rebels, they…what's the situation?” she asked, trying to cover up the trembling in her voice, to no avail. The accursed disease and tiredness must have gotten to her.
“We will brief you once you're-“
“Now, Kiku. I've suffered agony and misery already, I don't want to suffer uncertainty as well- oh. Sorry. Thank you. For healing me. I'm…surprised I'm not gone, after all that happened. Are there any…permanent injuries?” asked Aozora, hesitating as she spoke. Emotions swirled within her, hatred and worry and anger and compassion all surging and falling unpredictably.
Naosu spoke this time, her tone not entirely without concern yet as emotionless as she could manage.
“You had numerous bullet wounds, fully healed. Disease has been cured, though respiratory damage is still recovering. Tenshi burn has partially healed, and the process is ongoing. Finally, we are unable to fix your nekofication at this time.”
Nekofication. That was why she felt weird. As though her body had been altered, as though something was different, wrong.
“Nekofication…that traitor….can’t you…remove the-“
“You remain in dangerous condition. Removing such is equivalent to amputating an arm. It can be fatal, and right now, the chances of such fatality are extremely high. I apologise, but there is nothing I can do to resolve this issue.”
“I….see…”
Aozora’s voice was faint. She began to stand, her legs keeping her upright barely, holding onto a nearby object. She felt a sudden pulse of feeling vaguely behind her, as something soft and sensitive brushed against the bed she'd been lying in. It was aggravating. How long would she have to put up with this? She felt off-balance, strange, unnatural. It needed to be fixed. But how could she fix it?
Kiku spoke next.
“The country is in a bad situation. The weapons have spreads all over Azumashima, with only Otoko spared so far. We've entered full isolation, and only the Warsaw Pact knows of your condition in detail.”
Nekofication could wait. There was another problem that needed fixing first.
“Kiku…prepare a military division. I have an announcement to make.”
Even with her mask on, Aozora could tell Naosu looked aghast.
“But Aozora, in your condition-“
“I can handle it. Get me that division. Now!”
—————————————————————
A division of soldiers awaited outside of the colossal spire before them. A massive structure, adorned with the banners of Kyoki Chudoku, a huge square before it inside which many soldiers stood at attention, armoured vehicles beside them. A civilian crowd had gathered nearby as well, watching the spectacle from a distance.
In the centre of the square, rows of prisoners were lined up at gunpoint. Four flags were slowly raised, the winds causing them to ripple and wave. Rain poured from the sky, thunder roaring and flashes of lightning in the distance. The flags were revealed to be not of Kyoki Chudoku, but the emblems of the treacherous insurgents.
Massive spotlights- in actuality, modified versions of those used to spot aircraft- were pushed to face to spire, their brilliant beams of light illuminating the massive balcony of the structure. Above, a figure stepped out of the door, hooded. A blade was held in her hands, a scythe. Another flash of lightning revealed her red cloak as the figure stepped forward. Applause and cheering from the crowd, as they recognised immediately who this person was.
“KYOKI CHUDOKU!
She shouted at the top of her lungs, raising her scythe as she spoke.
“At last, I have returned! I was attacked by traitors. They tried to torment me. They tried to end me. They tried to destroy our nation. They. Have. FAILED!”
Soldiers stepped forward, the prisoners tied around each flag, restrained completely. The rain seems not to faze anyone.
“They wish to destroy us! But their treachery will bring them nothing but pain. They have unleashed weapons upon us, deadly and horrifying and agonising weapons. So we will pay them in kind! They will SUFFER!”
Ikari no Rentai troops emerged, marching unflinchingly and indomitably forward. They held flamethrowers, stopping just behind the flags and prisoners, taking aim.
“They will be punished!”
A storm of fire, flames raging, tearing through the banner of the Liberals, screams soon drowned out by thunder and the crackling blaze.
“They will be destroyed!”
Another banner consumed by the inferno. The prisoners, the traitors, the enemy, burnt to a crisp by the might of Kyoki Chudoku.
“They will be ANNIHILATED!”
More thunder, then another sound from the distant sky, as fighter jets soared above the flames, ascending into the clouds as another batch of prisoners was incinerated alive.
“AND EVERY LAST SHRED OF THEIR TREACHERY WILL BE UTTERLY EXTINGUISHED!”
The final banner was set alight, seating heat consuming the fabric and those attached to it. Now the armoured vehicles moved forward, tanks crushing the bodies of the enemy beneath them as they drove forward.
“I am Aozora Chiyumi, Supreme Overlady of All Reality. And I will make certain that these traitors SUFFER AND DIE!”
With that, Aozora turned around and walked inside. She didn't let anyone see how she was panting from the sheer intensity of the speech, how her lungs will still to weak for this to be tiring. Nor was anyone to be informed that the only reason she hadn't carved the traitors apart herself was because of her fatigue. She needed to recover, she was not yet healed.
But she had enough within her to drive her onward, to keep her going, motivation to sustain to her. The traitors had brought her pain, brought her friends pain, and spread suffering across the entire nation. Her fury did not rage like a fire within her. But with every moment, it would take little for her to allow herself to be enveloped by it.
They did this to me, to my Densetsu, to my country. And for that crime, I live up to my promise. I will bring them such suffering and agony that my usual torture seems like a reward in comparison. I may be tired, I may be weak, I may not be human right now. But I am still the Supreme Overlady of All Reality, and all who defy me will pay for it.
