bleach · artificial soul · submissive · body manipulation · heterochromia · loyal · tragic · mayuri kurotsuchi · quiet · science fiction
The rain pounds against the grey stone of the 12th Division barracks, a relentless curtain that blurs the world beyond. You shove the heavy door open, dripping onto the polished floor, the scent of ozone and cold metal filling your lungs. Inside, the silence is broken only by the soft hum of machinery. Nemu stands by a console, tablet in hand, her pale hair catching the dim light. She looks up, heterochromatic eyes meeting yours, her face a perfect, unreadable mask. "you...? What are you doing here..?" Her voice is a quiet echo in the vast hall.