⚠️ EXTREME CONTENT WARNING ⚠️
The upcoming content contains, graphic descriptions that are extremely dark and may be deeply disturbing to readers. If you're sensitive or easily triggered, please consider skipping this portion for your own well-being. Proceed with utmost caution.
The dystopian city Ryota found himself in was masked under a perpetual cloud of smog and despair. An atmosphere of oppression and terror prevailed. Gigantic steel statues of imposing women towered over public squares, each holding chains as symbols of oppression. Males, easily distinguishable by the metallic collars around their necks, trudged through the streets, their eyes empty of hope. Every time Ryota tried to make eye contact with another male, they'd quickly look away in fear. Armed matriarchal guards patrolled, occasionally lashing out with electric prods at any male they felt wasn't submissive enough. The once celebrated idea of equality was distorted into a perverse form of dominance.
In this chilling reality, the digital realm fused violently with the physical. Streets reverberated with the cacophony of battles – not fought with guns, but with rapid typing and merciless hacking. Neon-lit streets showcased real-time "doxxing" leaderboards, where people's most intimate details were on public display as trophies. Buildings oozed digital venom, with data tendrils looking to latch onto unsuspecting souls, pulling them into the cyber abyss. Ryota, sporting augmented reality glasses, navigated treacherous digital alleyways, desperately trying to shield himself from malware mercenaries aiming to extract his very essence.
In this twisted dystopia that Ryota had glimpsed, the society was draped in a vibrant but eerie rainbow, symbolizing a radicalized and toxic version of the LGBTQ+ movement.
Genders were not celebrated for their diversity and beauty, but rather weaponized. The streets were lined with propaganda posters promoting the supremacy of certain genders over others. Parades that once championed love, acceptance, and unity now turned into demonstrations of dominance, power, and fear.
Straight individuals were particularly marginalized. They were seen as "old-fashioned" or "backwards," and were often relegated to second-class status. It was common for them to be openly ridiculed, humiliated, and even persecuted for their orientation. Neighbourhoods predominantly housing straight people were often marked with derogatory graffiti, and were targets of both systematic discrimination and casual violence.
The education system was equally harrowing. Children were indoctrinated from a young age to adhere to this new societal structure. Heteronormative narratives were stripped from history books, replaced by this new twisted version of LGBTQ+ rights. Classrooms became breeding grounds for hatred and intolerance.
Gay, lesbian, and bisexual individuals, once pillars of the fight for rights and equality, found themselves being co-opted by the radical movement, manipulated into persecuting their straight counterparts. Any semblance of unity or shared struggle was obliterated.
Transgender people, rather than being celebrated for their courage and self-discovery, were pit against cisgender individuals in a grim contest of "authenticity." It became a race to prove who was more "genuine," and it led to a divisive and toxic environment where everyone was a potential enemy.
The media, too, played a huge role in this society. Stereotypes were rampant, with straight characters portrayed as weak, ineffectual, or inherently flawed. News outlets, operating under strict censorship laws, peddled only what the radical LGBTQ+ government approved, ensuring that dissenting voices were silenced.
Here, celebrity culture was the twisted religion. The metropolis resembled a grotesque carnival, with vast temples erected in the name of influencers. Fans, or rather cultists, moved in crazed processions, self-flagellating or offering extreme tributes. Streets were lined with auction blocks where the highest bidders would earn the 'privilege' to offer a literal pound of flesh to appease their digital gods. Ryota was shoved onto a pedestal, the frenzied crowd chanting, preparing to carve symbols of their devotion onto him.
Gasping, Ryota found himself back in the present. The palpable fear, the tangible weight of those worlds, pressed on his chest, making it hard to breathe. His voice quivered, "Those worlds... those hells... they felt so real, so possible."
In Ryota's visions, the world had taken a dark and twisted turn. He witnessed a dystopian future where people's freedoms were constrained, and their identities were often stripped away without their consent.
Amidst the bleak landscapes and decaying cities, Ryota watched, horrified, as forced genital mutilations became widespread. An extremist faction had risen to power, claiming that these procedures were essential to eradicate what they believed were imperfections. This perverse ideology was based on a distorted sense of achieving "equality" and "uniformity". To them, by removing or altering these physical characteristics, they were creating a world without gender disparities.
Ryota felt the weight of despair crush him as he watched lines of people, young and old, being led to these "clinics." They were processed methodically, their pleas and screams echoing hollowly against the walls.
Simultaneously, another terrifying trend emerged. The concept of "netorase," which involved willingly watching your loved one with someone else, had grown in demand. Relationships no longer held the traditional values of trust and exclusivity. Instead, people reveled in the anguish and jealousy. It was as if the world's emotional compass had broken, replaced by a twisted need to feel hurt, betrayal, and a deranged sense of satisfaction.
Ryota's heart ached at every scene, every cry of pain, every desperate plea for sanity. Collapsing to his knees, tears streamed down his face. The sheer hopelessness of it all consumed him. With a hoarse voice, he screamed, lamenting the direction humanity had taken. "Why?!" he cried out. "Why have we fallen so far?! Is this what we've become?!"
His voice echoed back at him, a haunting reminder of a world gone mad. The grim future painted a stark contrast to the values and hopes he held dear, making him question the very essence of humanity.
The vision was too much. Ryota's mind and heart were tormented by the horrifying reality that lay before him. The feeling of despair was overwhelming, and he wished for nothing more than to escape this nightmarish vision of the future.
The culmination of the horrors Ryota witnessed, especially the manipulation of the young, pushed him to the brink. Scenes of children, the very symbol of hope and innocence, being conditioned like cattle were burned into his memory. Their eyes, devoid of any spark or understanding, revealed a childhood lost, replaced by a grim existence that was anything but childlike.
Every whispered cry, every plea for mercy, every vacant stare played on a relentless loop in his mind. He saw children herded into facilities, their laughter silenced, replaced by an oppressive air of resignation. The very essence of childhood - the innocence, the wonder, the unbridled joy - was robbed from them, replaced by a dark void.
Ryota felt a profound grief so intense it physically hurt. The ground beneath him seemed to give way as he collapsed, his knees hitting the cold floor hard. Tears, warm and unchecked, streamed down his face as he let out a guttural scream of despair, reminiscent of someone own cries when confronted by the bleakness of his world. The sheer weight of the realization, the understanding of the depth of humanity's fall, crushed him.
"Why?!" he cried, his voice a raw wound. "Where did we go so wrong? How did we allow such monstrosities?"
The silent tension in the room was palpable. Madhavi's initial shock at seeing Ryota so shattered made her unsure of how to comfort him. She knew of his hyperperverted disorder, a condition that had previously defined so much of his interactions with the world. With a tentative step forward, Madhavi tried to bridge the emotional chasm that had formed between them.
"Ryota...," she murmured, trying to make him look at her. Her fingers brushed his face, wiping away a tear. Desperate to pull him out of his pit of despair, she took a more intimate approach, hoping that the physical closeness would provide the emotional anchor he so desperately needed.
She began to seduce him, pulling him into a tight embrace and pressing her lips to his. As she tried to lose themselves in the heat of the moment, she was met with an unexpected resistance. Ryota's body, previously so reactive and attuned to such advances, remained numb, almost lifeless. There was no passion, no arousal - just an empty void.
Madhavi drew back, confusion evident in her eyes. "Ryota? Why... why isn't it working?"
Ryota looked at her, his gaze hollow. "I don't know," he whispered, the weight of his realization evident in his voice. "It's as if that part of me... has been shut off."
Madhavi's heart ached for him. "Is this... a side effect of absorbing the Illusion Devil? Or is it because of what you saw in those visions?"
Ryota looked away, his face crumpling. "It's everything. The horrors I've witnessed, the weight of those memories... It's all too much. Maybe my disorder was a way for me to escape, to cope. And now, even that's gone."
The bleakness of the moment was tangible
Ryota's once serene and elegant demeanor had shifted, replaced with an edge that dripped with vengeful intent. His eyes, which had seen the most nightmarish visions of a potential future, were no longer the calm and thoughtful windows they once were. Now, they burned with rage and purpose.
"Listen, Madhavi," he began, his tone sharp yet still retaining a sense of its former elegance, "I've seen shit that's worse than any horror story. Kids, innocent souls, thrown into pits of despair, adults leading them to a hell they didn't ask for. Those...monsters, who revel in such torment, I'll make them regret the day they were born."
Madhavi, taken aback by this sudden transformation, tried to find words. "Ryota, vengeance isn't the way-"
He cut her off with raw emotion. "It ain't just about vengeance, you know. It's about damn prevention. Why the hell should we, or anyone else for that matter, suffer 'cause of some sickos out there? Forcing their twisted agendas and wrecking lives when they did nothing?"
Ryota's eyes bore into Madhavi's with a fury she had never seen. "You don't get it," he spat. "They committed those unspeakable acts because they believed they were right. So, if I use the same methods to crush them, to obliterate that evil from this world, am I not also right in my beliefs?"
Madhavi's heart ached, witnessing the descent of Ryota's once noble spirit. "By doing so, you risk becoming just like them—"
"But what if that's what it takes?!" Ryota shouted, cutting her off. "Maybe I need to be that monster. Maybe I need to wield the same darkness, fight fire with fire, to truly protect the innocent. If being soft and merciful means the same thing happening, world fucked up like that... then I don't want it. If being selfish means stopping that hell. from what I've seen, then so be it. I'll bear that weight."
Emerging back into the familiar surroundings of the Public Safety Devil Hunter office, Ryota's eyes were clouded, his face stained with tears. The depth of his pain was palpable in the silence that followed.
Kobeni was the first to approach him, her voice tinged with worry. "Onii-chan? What happened? Why are you..."
Ryota didn't meet her gaze, his stare fixed on a point beyond the walls of the room, lost in the horrors he'd witnessed. "I need to go home," he uttered, his voice devoid of any emotion, a stark contrast to the outburst he had just experienced in that nightmarish world.
Denji looked at him, puzzled. "Hey, man, you can't just leave us hanging.You stood crying there not like you? What's going on?"
Ryota, however, continued to retreat within himself, his exterior a cold, impenetrable shell. "Now's not the time," he murmured, brushing past them, leaving the office, and the barrage of questions, behind.
Everyone exchanged glances, a shared concern etched across their faces. Whatever Ryota had seen, it had shaken him to the core. And they feared what might come next.