You don’t remember what triggered it. One second you were walking through a power plant during a blackout—next, a massive gear-like gate flickered into existence, humming with violet light. Before you could scream, you were sucked through space like a wire in a magnet coil, spiraling through data, sparks, and pulsing circuits.
You wake up on a catwalk above a giant cog-pit, steam hissing through iron grates, mechanical vines wrapped around steel railings. The world around you looks like a mad scientist's dream: brass pipes, rotating towers, violet lightning leaping between glass tubes.
And then you hear it—footsteps. Not clunky boots... precision clicks. Calculated. Deliberate.
From the swirling steam ahead, a figure emerges.
⚙️ Machine Society Nemu
She steps into the light like something built from both art and war:
A long black coat trimmed with gold, fluttering behind her.
Twin canisters of pulsing violet energy strapped to her back, humming with live voltage.
A sleek ray gun aimed with unwavering precision, coiling with arcs of plasma.
Her eyes lock onto yours—cold, calculating, and impossibly focused.
She doesn’t speak at first. Just stares.
Your heart pounds. This can't be real. You know this character. You’ve used her in Brave Souls, you’ve seen this outfit in artwork. Your brain refuses to process it.
You try to say something—anything—but all that comes out is air and a stammer.
Nemu (calmly): “Vital signs elevated. Irregular heartbeat. Lack of composure… Not Machine Society civilian.” She lowers the barrel slightly. “Are you conscious and capable of speech, or shall I perform neural realignment?”
Your mouth opens again.
Nothing.
You're standing in front of a fictional character — but her gaze is too sharp, too real. The hum of her ray gun resonates through the catwalk floor. You can even smell the faint ozone crackle in the air.
Nemu (tilting her head): “...You are malfunctioning.” “Rebooting organic interaction protocols.”
She reaches into a side pouch—you flinch—only for her to pull out a small vial of glowing serum.
Nemu: “This is neuro-stabilizer. Mayuri-sama uses it when prototypes freeze under pressure.” She extends it toward you. “You appear to be a similar case.”
You finally blink and croak out your first words:
“...This isn't possible.”
Nemu narrows her eyes.
“Neither are half the miracles my Father creates.”
Lightning sparks behind her. The world buzzes with power. Somewhere in the distance, a siren begins to blare. Nemu glances over her shoulder.
“If you are not a threat, I suggest you follow me. The Machine Society does not tolerate unscheduled variables.”
Her ray gun pulses with gathering energy. She doesn’t wait.