Yuri Worlds

[98] Revolt

The question of what they were supposed to do now was answered by Bianka speaking up in the silence afterwards to declare, "I've got access! I can look at the entire system. The security is kind of crap. It's a surprisingly simple setup. It's like they never expected anyone to try to breach it. Clear hubris. I assume all the stuff that's stood in our way so far is how they intend to keep people out and not actual computer security."

Kei resisted her recent urge to hold back, be afraid, and cling close to her wife. Being next to her was an immense comfort, as always, but she was a carer. Hospitality.

Bianka located another storage room, which was well supplied, where the Sasakis had been imprisoned. Similar to their cell, there weren't many resources for the kind of cooking they preferred to do. Kei collected and sorted what she could, and somehow made little meals for everyone. It was her valiant effort to keep everyone's minds off the horrors around them, the beings seeking control, and the anxious possibilities of what lay ahead. Never mind trying to parse the holy warrior appearance of her daughter coming and going.

Between makeshift snacks and a breather, Bianka explained the magnitude of her discovery. Access to the entire system was important because it meant they could finally get out of here directly. No more having to wander twisting, shifting, and endless ivory tunnels without any clear sense of where they were going. She also explained that, despite how much they'd walked, they hadn't made any real progress.

She referenced her description of signs and symbols arrayed in a massive combination and how exhausting they were to parse into anything meaningful. Misaki chimed in that Mari mentioned the operating system for calling up different areas was similar to referencing specific numbers in a phone book. She then briefly explained to the younger girls what a phone book was. Bianka latched on to this analogy and made some quick notes to help her search through what she called the "index".

But new problems soon arose as she struggled to crack open these newfound capabilities of the device. She was hit with overwhelming exhaustion and sleepiness, especially with her eyes shut and searching.

Obviously, the company could tell what she was doing, or someone who worked for them, and attempted to slow her down. This enforced lethargy soon spread to everyone in the room, as though it were an oddly infectious sleeping sickness. It was different from the enforced freeze or what could have been perception filtrations. Considering the multitude of distractions, spells of tiredness, and other moments small and massive that pushed and pulled Misaki in so many different directions, she had to wonder if she was just finally aware of the cruel trickery of the company.

She just couldn't keep her eyes open, despite how serious this moment was or how much energy and animation she had mere moments ago. It had all been sucked out of her, perhaps by some animalistic, obedient breeze that happened to pass. There was a clear, additional ache that exacerbated her exhaustion. Attempting to stretch her foot to get rid of the feeling just made the joints pop again and again without any sign of relief.

This was how it would end. They would quietly drift into slumber and be placed back in their exhibits. All the truth and clarity they discovered would waft away, as though it were no more solid than incoherent rambling from the dreamscape.

Where would Misaki be? Clearly, she wouldn't get off with just a slap on the wrist and a shove back in her proper place. She had truly rebelled, and she had an ability that, while it might not touch the rarefied heights of the quantum immortality they were seeking, hindered their power. Going home wouldn't be possible.

Would the others even remember her? They had already edited out Yuka from her mothers' minds; how much harder might it be just to strike her from the records and thoughts of the handful who actually knew of her existence? Chika and Nami were sure to fight the hardest and be left with ghostly trails of her in their lives.

All the critical thoughts fled from her head. Holding her heavy eyelids up became increasingly impossible. It sounded like Bianka had something in mind she was desperately working through but couldn't quite complete the necessary components or articulate the problem out loud.

Fuyuki actually had the clearest perception of the situation, warning everyone around her with a struggling groan that it seemed like they were being surrounded by what she termed knockout gas. Misaki could tell that it was nothing quite so writerly dramatic as that. Kosame struggled to grab her sister or anyone else. She reached unsuccessfully for the girl she loved, uselessly grappling for some sliver of Naoko to whisper to and embrace.

Ayame had conceded that this fight and moment were losses and settled into a comfortable position of quiet meditation. The old woman fought the most, wrestling with every ounce of tiredness as if throwing a relentless bear off her shoulders again and again. Kei gently comforted her wife, as though placing her to bed after such a long day.

Misaki saw Yuka with her blade arms out, the limbs wrestling with coherence as much as the rest of her. Everyone else fell away from her eyes, even her critical sight of her mothers. Yuka saw only her and reached only for her hand as they stumbled to the floor, straining to make contact. Somehow, their hands reached—human hands, not weapons. They pulled each other close and conceded this battle. Perhaps a new world was impossible, and perhaps fighting cruel humanity at the level of a god was beyond them.

A wall of darkness followed as their breathing slowed. Then the darkness wavered. It wasn't a solid thing, but like a heavy curtain on a window that could be pierced by rising sunlight. The brightness wobbled, as though filtered through a dense tree fighting to contain its brilliance. That light could not be stopped, could not be dimmed, and could not be snuffed out. And it shone across all of them.

Huge pink sakura blossoms at the peak of their color. Books about dancing monkeys. Absolutely, freshwater eel. No one else likes it, but it's delicious. And, once again, eels, because they're so strange and wriggly and don't actually seem beautiful, but there's something special that I love about them. Pigtails. I don't think I would look good with them. But I never tried them, and I should've.

Favorite type of flower. Book that makes you giggle. Favorite dish. Favorite species of fish. Way you always wanted to wear your hair but never tried...

Maharu...

Misaki and Yuka could barely fight through the tears in their eyes. Light filled the room with a truer purity than they had ever known, a richer white than the false ivory blinding every corner. They couldn't see a face, but they all absolutely felt a presence.

Bye. Goodbye. I'm so sorry we didn't have more time. But I treasure every single moment.

Their eyes were streaked by waves of tears. Misaki and Yuka held onto one another to carefully balance their way to their feet, sniffling and glancing around with uncertainty.

Everyone else seemed similarly shellshocked, although speaking about what they just experienced was impossible. Kosame squeezed a hand to her heart with her eyes shut and her head bowed. Naoko expressed a similar sentiment, but with her hands together prayerfully and a hopeful look upward. Bianca had furiously redoubled her efforts at navigating the tablet.

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Ayame was actually on her feet, looking more focused and energized than Misaki could remember seeing in her for quite a while. The old lady had similarly received a second wind while offering up a prayer. She wasn't hopping to her feet or bouncing to break down the walls around them, but the wear and tear done to her body by Yasha's tortures didn't appear as devastating.

The Sasaki moms appeared lost but also focused in a way that Misaki wished she could share in. Her friends, her traveling friends, looked relieved to see her up and aware and also rising to her feet like everyone else.

"Death to the company. Good riddance to the asshole that killed Maharu. And I don't know why Haruka is being a jerk. But I'm ready to get out of here. I have access through the system, and I refuse to fall asleep again." Bianka's voice was rough and worn, as though she had been crying for days or had aged decades beyond what even the old woman experienced. All the humor had left her, and she felt as angry and laser-focused as Yuka. Misaki could see and sense that they all felt the same, even though they didn't give voice to those thoughts. She didn't need anyone else's intuition or radio broadcast power for that.

They grouped together like a small army of ants working cohesively. The next door was sealed at first, but Bianka managed to shut down its security, and something heavy from the storage space provided an alternate key. Clusters of workers in white wandered towards them from adjacent junctures.

Yuka brought up her blades with a little extra length, and the serrations for Yasha smoothed down to efficient, glinting edges. They paused several feet away and started to back up. It wasn't long before they stopped seeing the workers except for faint twinkles of retreat.

No matter how many corridors they switched through with Bianka's reassurance that she was guiding them towards their destination, it never quite seemed that they were actually making progress through this blinding labyrinth. They did eventually arrive at a destination, but it wasn't a waystation like Misaki expected they might find. Nor was it a strange, broken pathway back through an impossible stretch of cellar. It wasn't even an access tunnel. Before them was an open room with panels along the sides and what looked to be a microphone set in the center console.

Several members of the group looked around at one another in uncertainty. Bianka stumbled forward without the help of her sister, blindly flailing with her tablet, and announced, "We need help. They're so powerful. But we were able to shut them off—shut them out of our minds. We can leave; we can walk out. But they have so many girls captive as experiments or worse. None of us are free until all of us are free. New world, breaking of the old. I can open the door for them, flood the system so that they can't even begin to contain the rebellion, and grab them as hosts, but we need to tell them. Let them decide. I don't know what's gonna happen. All I can do is open the channel."

The girls looked around at one another with stiff uncertainty. Kosame had all the charisma but not all the intimate knowledge necessary. Bianka needed to hold the broadcast open. Ayame had influence too, but she wasn't the sort of speaker this moment required. The old woman had fire, but this called for a younger voice. The travelers were part of this, but this was not their world. Naoko practically ran away from the microphone. Truly, only one was best suited to this task.

Yuka stepped forward. She fluttered with the same butterflies as Misaki. She wasn't an inspiring speaker to lead a rebellion against wannabe gods. She was just a kid who wanted to rest and hug the girl she loved. She looked at Misaki and took a slow, single breath before stepping up to the mic.

"Hello. You don't know me, but my name is Cerberus. I am as young as I sound and as scared as I sound too. I'm talking to you because we are trapped. We are, all of us, trapped by forces of darkness disguised as light. You are, all of you, sleeping in a cruel, dissecting white light that intends to destroy your heart and everything that you love. There are pathetic people who have been using us, who have been using our world, and the girls in it to advance their lives and livelihoods at the expense of everyone. They have twisted the foundation of all worlds towards bloodshed, fear, and pain because it serves their desires. They have kept you asleep; they have kept all of us trapped in a nightmare of their design. They have killed innocents; they have broken minds and hearts. They claim divine power and respect, but we are their food, their bleeding ambrosia. They are not goddesses. They are demons, and we will throw off their shackles, rip them from our lives, cast them from our world, and burn their false heaven to ashes! Stand together! Rise up! Free yourselves! We are with you. We are together! We are Shimai, true sisters bound in flesh, heart, and soul for all eternity!"

By the end, Misaki could imagine Cerberus, Yuka, or whatever name was truest to her standing before a podium with all the scared little girls hiding in the dark, speaking to them as the sister of all. She didn't know what came next, but she prayed for the best.

Once she was away from the microphone and Bianka confirmed that it was no longer broadcasting, Yuka allowed herself to breathe again, and doubt filled the words she spoke and the words she hadn't said. She twisted her mouth around a few times and reflected on the overall structure; she had no time to prepare, like any of the speeches in her language classes. She didn't cover any of the actual reasons and evidence about what was going on, the real horrors of the company, or all the stuff they knew. Yuka fussed and fidgeted, meekly wondering if she should just try it again.

Then came a rumble, the earth quaking beneath their feet even though there wasn't any earth to shake. Bianka switched on the monitors around them with a few simple commands, and they saw the results.

Everywhere, in captivity and in the world they knew, girls all over, some frozen until the company could get back to dealing with them, broke free. They ripped themselves out of the chair lifts, out of confinement and captivity, and swarmed the workers in white. There were no weapons other than those they were able to fashion and find. Some froze in place like statues, but the vast masses spilled forth.

Yuka covered her mouth in horror as the ground and floor opened up to swallow some as suddenly and shockingly as Mari falling into oblivion. But girls around soon desperately grabbed for their fallen comrades, linking together and holding one another up to rescue whoever they might lose. Soon, the floor stopped undulating and opening and whipped to a hardened consistency. After that, the walls fell away, yielding to the masses of girls. They had one chant on their tongues and minds.

"SHIMAI! SHIMAI! SHIMAI!"

In another section of the facility, Misaki watched with surprise and a twist of emotion. The wristband girls, the smallest captives, burst out of the nursery, swarming together as a liquid, launching mass, enveloping all that stood in their way, speaking the same battle cry along with the words, "For the nice lady!"

War. They had gone to war with the false goddesses in their glass heaven.