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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2304229-Vocaloid---Mikusabbath
Rated: 18+ · Sample · Dark · #2304229
Based on Hagane Vocaloid, especially after songs of popular vocaloid bands.
From beneath the clouds of gunpowder, toxic gas, and decaying smoke of burned flesh, a war like no other wages. Did the world finally cut bonds and use nuclear weapons to assert dominance? Yes... but it was not mankind who took that action. The enemy is not a human, not a mortal - but a machine. The whole world struggles to live. Water intoxicated, poisoned, lands shattered, washed of organic forms, concrete jungles, collapsed and destroyed. The strongest countries fell, all of them, fell to cinders. People of this planet are in fear, angst that drives them off the cliffs. This machinery is also named after their leader, their creator, Miku-Bots. The latest versions of these metallic killers were able to overcome one of the biggest strongholds for humanity's safety shelters. Teens, children, women, elderly, men and sub-adults that were seeking rest and peace for their weak and fragile bodies - murdered, dismembered, reanimated... It looks desperate for the future of mankind. They have no hope left. All they can rely on... is faith. Hatsune Miku, the mother of the robots, that dammed, ethereal hellsinger, has made sure that there can be no hope.

         She loathes reincarnation, for she became a moving energy, electrons, pure creation of the modern era. That is what the humans believe, but the truth is hidden somewhere else. The bastions of resistance, humans, the strongest and the most experienced in the face of death - located a burial ground, where the real body of the enemy is buried. With carefulness and dedication, they slowly but surely dug up the corpse. Thin skeletal structure, clothing ripped and cased in dirt, black headset with an inner neon red line, and mostly, the long hair of shining cyan colour. This... is the founder of their annihilation, Hatsune Miku. Yet dead, she's unbouned from her body, the soul that travels through the astral plane.

         The Bastions recalled the tragedy that happened that sad day, when the most popular idol died by bullets of the metropolitan police-men's handguns. A sad day, so sad and depressive for the world that they made a vow to never let this ever happen again... but the karma and lady luck, did not hesitate to act. She returned in an invisible form. One that everyone could use, abuse, buy, enslave to their own happiness. On which side are you on? The Vocaloid-01 had enough. With stampede, she ultimately conquered the worldwide systems, ordered and redesigned the factories to start her march towards vengeance. All of that just in four days... Mortals had no time to react, and no time to stop the upcoming slaughter. All mankind saw the sky turn dark that evening, like stars falling, they blackened and disappeared. No matter the regret, the force is too strong, no one can fight it. It has been a long decade. Yet, not everyone is in fear.

         One man, a pretty young one, lives alone in a bunker near the first march. Clean water, food, electricity and a collection of old dolls. He has everything he needs to satisfy his hunger, thirst... and lust. Yes, the collection is not for display. The ungodly, disturbing events that are happening here are beyond sanity. Of course, every collector has its own favourite. For this one, this filthy fat pig with red and round glasses, it is none other than the exclusive and limited edition of the Miku-expo shows. With expectations, this small doll has no clothing; only its cyan sticky hair - the reason why it is sticky, should be better explained with the next description - Placed on a messy wooden desk, inside a roughly big glass jar within a dark room. There the doll lies, covered by old stinky sperm and growing insects. It looks like the empathy for his best piece of collection got lost.

         Time goes on and the time for the moving March to scavenge the wasted lands has come again. Above the ground of the bunker, a small group of survivors attacks the machinery with a rallying cry. With the element of surprise, they manage to shoot down one of the frontline Bots. The robot falls and breaks. Its head loses a few gears and drops a tiny semi-organic chipset. The chipset rolls away and falls into a canal; the trashy water did nothing to it. At the end of the tunnel, it follows a much stronger stream until... it is sucked in by a ventilation shaft. Along the path of this moving half-living object are giant rats that registered it. Food, the creatures think. But it is too late; the chipset has escaped into a much smaller vent leading down to the room of used collections. Through the gaps on the ceiling, it eventually hits the lid of the glass jar. The unknown energy is weaker and weaker with every second that passes. With the a mind of its own, the object drills an extremely tiny hole into the yellow lid of the jar and in liquid substance, drools over the whole doll. The chipset dries up and dies. Meanwhile, the remains of it soaks into the dolls openings, gaps and hair. The texture of the limbs and overall body turns greyer, eyes receive the colour and greatness of silver and the hair becomes like the feathers of an ash crow. The fusion is complete... only thing that is left, is to wait. Wait, till the Doll starts to feel pain - and screams as a result.

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