Memo 02: The Veylstra Broker.

Nagisa’s body hung weightless in the dark, her breath caught somewhere between her chest and her throat. She had never felt like this before. Sickness still lets you know you’re alive—the dull ache of a fever, the churn of nausea, the pounding of a headache. But this… this was nothing. No warmth, no cold. No pain, no comfort. Only the faint awareness that she existed, drifting in a void that gnawed away the edges of her being. It was almost alien. A truth that clawed at her from somewhere deep inside—proof she was no longer in her old world. Here, even the air did not belong to her. Somewhere beyond the curtain of black, something moved. Her senses bled back in, slow and reluctant. At first it was only the faint scrape of her breathing, then the whisper of metal pressing against her skin. Shapes began to form in the black—bars, curved and close. The chill of iron seeped into her arms and legs.

A cage.

Nagisa’s hands moved instinctively, patting herself down. Her fingers brushed the familiar strap over her shoulder—the camera was still there, and the memo book sat snug against her side. A small relief in the midst of the cold confinement. She curled her hands around the bars, testing them. Solid. Slick with moisture. Somewhere in the dark, water dripped in a slow, taunting rhythm. She tries waking up her companions to no avail. Looking through her camera she realizes a inherent truth.

The rattling rang out like gunfire in the silence. Nagisa shook the bars with both hands, each violent jolt sending a metallic screech tearing through the stillness. Her breath came sharp and fast, vapor puffing in the cold air. No one answered. No one moved. She was the only sound in the void—iron clanging against iron, defiant and relentless. The noise rolled down the unseen hall, echoing until it became something almost inhuman, a mechanical heartbeat pounding through the dark. If they thought she would stay quiet, they’d learn otherwise. A bigger cling in the close by. From somewhere in the dark, a voice slipped between the echoes—sharp, tired, and dripping with a bitterness too old for its owner. “Hizzzzz Give it a rest,” it said. Nagisa froze, her fingers still wrapped around the cold bars. “Don’t you see? Everyone’s given up already.” It was a girl’s voice—young, but coiled tight like a viper ready to strike. Wearing the striped colored wardrobe and her tail long and skinny slithering through the bars.. “Just… be quiet Hizzzzzz.” The words weren’t a plea. They were an order, one born from exhaustion, not malice.

Nagisa stared into the darkness in front of her, her disbelief burning hotter than the cold iron around her. “Why are you telling me to quit?” she shot back, her voice bouncing off the unseen walls. “We have to show them we’ve still got fight in us.” Her grip tightened on the bars until her knuckles ached. “Don’t you understand?” she went on, her words cutting through the stagnant air. “They’re trying to snuff the fire out of us. That’s why we’re in cages. That’s why they stripped us—of clothes, of dignity, of anything that makes us feel like people.” Her voice trembled—not from fear, but from the rage that had been building since the moment she woke up in this alien dark. “Stripped us?” the viperian girl’s voice slithered through the darkness, dry and sharp.

“You look pretty cozy in there Hizzzzz.”

Nagisa froze mid-breath.

“You’re still well-dressed. Groomed. You don’t smell like rusted water and rot like the rest of us Hizzzz. You’re not even banded like any of us.” The girl’s tone wasn’t angry—just dead certain, as if stating a law of nature.

Nagisa felt the weight of unseen eyes on her..

“So don’t go around inspiring anyone Hizzzz.”

Nagisa’s grip on the bars tightened. “I bet your life was perfect before this anyway,” the girl went on. “You weren’t taken from your home Hizzzz. You weren’t dragged by your hair into a pit. You’re just sitting over there, trying to give us false hope like it’s candy you can toss away. ”The darkness seemed to grow heavier with each word.

“I hate you already Hizzzz.”

A deafening clang echoed as the iron door swung open. Nateas stepped in, the stench of oil and charred meat drifting from the dented tray in his hands. Without a word, he flung the contents across the floor—greasy orc patties (orc-a Gobble) from some cheap roadside restaurant, breaking apart midair and splattering in the dust.

The prisoners lunged like starved dogs, hands clawing for even a crumb. The scrape of nails, the muffled grunts, the tearing of food from one another—it filled the silence.

Nateas leaned on the doorframe, lips curling.

“Look at you,” he chuckled, deep and mocking. “Like a little circus… all for scraps.”

Nateas stepped through, the air seeming to thin with him. Every girl in the cages stiffened, shrinking back as far as the bars allowed. Some whimpered. Some buried their faces in their knees. He didn’t start with words—he started with a sound. A shout, high with glee, jagged at the edges, tearing through the silence. Nateas’ grin widened, baring teeth in the dim light. “Well, well… the Little typo,” he said, tasting the words like a private joke. “Didn’t think you’d wake so soon was that you making all that noise?.” Nagisa grapsing the front of the cold cage. “I’m used to being confined,” she said flatly. “Though I’ve had more spacious rooms.” Her eyes flicked to the other cages, to the bands around the girls’ necks, then back to him.

She gestured vaguely at the rows of frightened captives. “This your handiwork?” Something in his smile twitched—pride and cruelty sharing the same space. Nagisa’s voice was steady, but her eyes cut through the dim like the camera’s flash still burned in them. ““How can you not feel anything?” she muttered, not caring if he heard. “No guilt in your chest, no second thought… nothing at all?” The others were too busy clutching their crumbs to notice her. But her eyes stayed locked on him, as if daring him to show even a flicker of humanity. Nagisa’s words still hung in the air when the viperian girl’s eyes snapped toward her, their cold, serpentine focus cutting deeper than the darkness around them. “For that demon creep?” she said, her tone flat, almost bitter. “He’s a demon. Like he feels anything for us Hizzzzz." Nateas’s shadow stretched across the cramped chamber as he stepped closer, a slow grin curling on his face.

"Grazi"

he said, voice dripping with amusement, like Nagisa’s contempt was a toast in his honor. Then, without warning, he turned and drove his boot hard into the viperian girl’s cage. The iron rattled with a metallic shriek, the girl flinching only slightly. “Don’t talk for me,” Nateas gleefully, leaning close enough for her to see the faint, hellish glint in his eyes. “Finish your food… like a good pet.” The girl’s hands clenched around her meager scrap of meat, jaw tight, but she said nothing.

"I get to shape the lives of who I want the way I want… and you’re asking me how I could be proud?” He leaned close, his grin splitting wider, eyes glinting with something that wasn’t just cruelty but certainty. “Because the strong write the story, the weak get written in as scenery. And you…” he chuckled low, “…you’re not even from here, yet you still ended up in a cage. That’s almost poetic.”

Nagisa’s fingers curl tighter around the "bars, her teeth grinding. Nagisa: "shaping the lives.... "Kidnapping the innocent…To feel powerful? To feed some twisted need?"Nagisa threw her head back and laughed, the sound sharp and mocking as it bounced off the stone walls.

“Of course,” she said between chuckles. “Makes perfect sense. Someone who doesn’t even have control of his own life… has to dictate the lives of others. Makes sense.” The words hit like venom. Nateas’s grin snapped away, his face twisting. He lunged forward, slamming his forehead against the bars of her cage with a deafening clang. The iron shook under the impact, dust sprinkling down from the ceiling. His burning eyes bored into hers. “What’s funny about that?” he growled, voice low and dangerous, each word vibrating through the metal. Nagisa leaned forward, ignoring the way Nateas’s forehead still pressed against the bars. Her eyes slid deliberately past him, locking on the viperian girl’s cage with a knowing smirk.

“You wanna know why this guy’s all bravado?” she asked, her tone dripping with contempt. “Why he struts and snarls like some untouchable beast?” Her voice lowered, conspiratorial, just loud enough to make sure Nateas heard every word. “I know the truth,” she said, her smile cutting sharper. “And I’ll show it to you.”Before Nateas could sneer or slam the bars again, Nagisa’s hand shot out and grabbed his collar. In one reckless motion, she yanked him forward, pressing her lips hard against his through the cold iron.

For a heartbeat, his body froze. Then his face lit up, blood rushing red as his composure crumbled. His breath quickened, his shoulders stiffening as heat flooded through him. He stumbled back, eyes wide, choking on his own frustration. “You’re not so tough after all,” Nagisa said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, grinning like she’d just won a game.

That was the cue. Metal shrieked in protest as the viperian girl’s hands tightened on the bars. Fueled by the spark Nagisa had lit, she tore through the weakened cage, the sound of snapping steel echoing like a battle cry. The viperian girl launched herself at Nateas with a hiss, fangs flashing, her torn cage bars still clattering to the floor. For a moment, she looked like a blur of rage and liberation.

But Nateas’s daze cracked in an instant. His flushed face hardened into pure contempt, his eyes igniting with an unnatural glow. He spat a guttural word in his own harsh, demonlike tongue "pobre miga" (poor garbage)— the syllables carried weight like iron chains.

THOOM.

The force of it ripped the air, striking the girl mid-lunge. She was slammed into the ground so hard the stone floor groaned beneath her. Dust burst up around her limp form as her claws twitched, the fight smothered in an instant.

Nateas loomed above, his breathing steady again, his expression an ugly mask of scorn. “Pathetic,” he muttered, flexing his fingers as if brushing off the residue of the spell. His eyes cut back to Nagisa, a venomous smile crawling across his lips.

The viperian girl barely stirred, her cheek pressed into the stone. Nateas’s boot came down on her face with a sickening crack. He leaned into it, twisting his heel as though grinding dirt into the floor. A low chuckle escaped his throat, rising into a manic laugh. Heheheh… “Trash,” he sneered, stomping again. Thud. “Filthy, weak trash.” Another stomp — the sound of bone straining under his weight. “You really thought you could touch me? Me?”

Each word was punctuated by another brutal press of his heel, dust puffing up around them. His laughter echoed in the chamber, gleeful and merciless, like he was savoring every crack and cry.

 Nagisa began writing in her memo pad. Blood ran down her lips as the viperian girl barely managed to lift her face from the dirt. Her voice was weak, broken by each breath, but still sharp enough to cut. “Calling me… trash, over and over…” she rasped. “I have a name… it’s Yuranu.” Her eyes flickered towards Nagisa’s cage. A faint, defiant smile tugged at her battered mouth. “And thanks… for the key… around your waist.”

Before Nateas could process the words, Yuranu’s tail slithered with uncanny precision. In one swift motion, the tip slipped the ring of keys from his belt. The cold metal jingled faintly as her tail coiled, maneuvering it with care toward Nagisa’s cage lock.

Click

The bars rattled as the lock sprang loose. Nagisa’s eyes widened — a sudden spark of freedom amid the cruelty. Nateas froze mid-stomp, his sadistic grin faltering for just a moment as realization dawned. 

 (ᴹᵉᵐᵒ ᴹᵃᵉˢᵗʳᵒ) Taser. 

Nagisa exploded from the cage with a roar, hair flying wildly as if the very air cracked under her movement. Her memo Maestro flared to life in her hands, letters and symbols twisting midair, bending into sharp electric arcs. “Trash, huh…?” she snarled, eyes blazing. “Let’s see who’s garbage after this.”

The memos snapped together with a BZZZZT, forming into a long black-and-silver weapon humming with raw current — a taser, cranked to maximum voltage. Lightning spat from its prongs, scorching the dirt beneath her feet. Nateas barely had time to laugh before she lunged. The weapon slammed against his chest with a crack like thunder.

“Fry, bastard!”

Blue light erupted, electricity surging through his body in violent waves. His sadistic grin warped into a twisted scream as every muscle in his body seized, the air filling with the acrid smell of burning fabric and ozone. Nagisa stood over him, hand steady on the weapon, letting the full current pour into him — no hesitation, no mercy.

The volts tore through Nateas, his body convulsing violently, eyes rolling back. His mouth opened as if to bark out another spell—

—but Yuranu was faster.

Her scaled tail whipped forward with a hiss, coiling tight around his face and snapping shut across his mouth like a living gag. “It’s about time you shut it.” she rasped, her voice shaking from exhaustion but laced with venom. Nateas’ muffled scream vibrated uselessly against her grip. The sparks still danced along Nagisa’s weapon, his body twitching and jerking under the relentless current until, finally, his limbs went slack. He collapsed to his knees, eyes glazed, smoke curling faintly from his clothes. Yuranu didn’t let go until his body sagged fully to the ground. The chamber went deathly quiet. Nagisa stood there, chest heaving, weapon still buzzing in her grip. Yuranu released her tail’s hold with a tired gasp, slumping back against the stone.

Yuranu lets out a relieved sigh.

"I guess all you need is belief.....