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GoseiKoryu Heroes: Eclipsed by the System!
🕑 Added 2024-12-18 13:24:41 +0000 UTCThe prison becomes a labyrinth of despair as the heroes discover they are not the only ones ensnared. Others, equally misjudged, stand as grim reminders of the system’s flaws. The weight of failure and isolation begins to fracture their resolve. The systematic erasure of their identities and courage culminates in a devastating realization: the system does not admit its mistakes—it buries them.
When innocence becomes indistinguishable from guilt, who decides where the shadow falls?
PS: This is based on the GoseiKoryu team concept I did years back, I think it would be a waste not to use the team as part of my growing dominion of pain. Besides anyway, ACAB and all that~
https://www.deviantart.com/anw-rev/art/GoseiKoryu-252540318
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Justice always prevails!
The cold fluorescent lights of the prison corridor flickered faintly as the guards made their way toward the isolation cells, carrying trays of steaming food and water bottles. The tantalizing aroma of freshly cooked meals wafted into the suffocating chambers, a cruel temptation for the weakened heroes. Tooru, Ema, and Noa, shackled and trembling from exhaustion, couldn’t help but react, their bodies betraying them as their senses were overwhelmed by the enticing smell.
The heroes’ GoseiKoryu suits, though advanced and designed to sustain them with minimal nourishment, were never meant to function in total isolation. The suits absorbed sunlight to generate the energy and nutrients needed to sustain their wearers, but in these sunless cells, the suits could only delay the inevitable. The heroes knew the truth—they couldn’t last much longer. The constant vibrations from the chastity belts drained their strength further, leaving them wobbly, arching, and struggling to keep their footing.
Tooru, his Allosaurus-themed suit now dull with grime and soaked with sweat, angled his helmeted head toward the door as the aroma reached him. His stomach didn’t growl—his suit sustained him just enough to avoid starvation—but the lack of sunlight had left his energy reserves dangerously low. His legs wobbled, and the ankle restraints pulled him upright as he muttered hoarsely, “They think… they can break us… with this…”
Ema, her Quetzalcoatlus-themed suit shimmering faintly under the artificial light, gasped softly as the smell hit her. Though her suit fed her just enough to keep her alive, the absence of sunlight gnawed at her strength. Her visor fogged slightly as her breathing grew heavier. “Tooru…” she whispered weakly. “We can’t… give them what they want…”
Noa, his Spinosaurus-themed suit trembling with faint energy pulses, angled his helmet downward. His voice, though muffled, was laced with exhaustion. “We’re running out of time… we need sunlight… but…” He trailed off, his legs shaking as he swayed in place, the ankle collar tugging sharply to force him upright.
The guards stopped outside the cells, their mocking laughter echoing down the hallway. “Look at them,” one sneered, holding up a tray piled high with steaming food. “Hungry, aren’t you? Bet it’s been days since you’ve had something real.”
Another guard tapped on the glass of Ema’s cell, grinning as he waved a water bottle just out of reach. “Thirsty, 3022? I bet your fancy suit isn’t doing much for that. All you have to do is agree. Let us take off that helmet, and you can eat, drink, and feel human again.”
Tooru, his helmeted head jerking upward as the ankle collar tugged, growled through gritted teeth. “You think… we’re that weak? We’re not… taking them off.”
The lead guard stepped forward, a smirk playing on his lips. “Oh, but you should. How much longer do you think you can last in there, huh? Your suits can’t do much for you without sunlight, can they? You’ll burn out eventually. Why fight it? Just take off the helmet. You’ll get food, water, relief…”
Ema, her head wobbling slightly as the vibrations from her chastity belt intensified, let out a ragged breath. “We… don’t need your help. You’re not… breaking us.”
The guard laughed, leaning closer to her cell. “Not breaking you? You’re trembling just from the smell of food. Give it a few more days, and you’ll be begging for us to take those helmets off. Go ahead, be stubborn. Starve in the dark. It’s all the same to us.”
Noa, his legs quaking as he forced himself to steady, muttered weakly, “We’re… not giving you what you want. Go ahead… keep trying…”
The guards exchanged glances, their laughter growing louder. One of them set the trays down just out of reach of the cells. “Suit yourselves. Enjoy the smell, then. We’ll be back later to see if you’ve changed your minds.”
As the guards walked away, their laughter echoing faintly, the heroes were left alone in the suffocating silence of their isolation cells. The smell of food lingered cruelly in the air, a constant indicator of their torment.
Tooru, his breathing ragged, whispered through his fogged visor. “We can’t… let them win. No matter… how bad it gets…”
Her voice cracking, Ema muttered, “They’re… waiting for us to give up. We can’t…”
Noa, his body trembling, spoke softly. “We don’t have sunlight… but we still have each other. Don’t… forget that.”
Even as the reality of their weakening suits and lack of sunlight pressed down on them, the heroes stood firm, their trembling bodies swaying under the relentless pull of the restraints.
The faint hum of the isolation cells was interrupted by the sharp, shrill sound of a whistle blowing in the distance. The signal was unmistakable: it was time for the daily prisoner tours, a calculated humiliation designed to remind the heroes of the freedom they had lost. The guards opened their cells one by one, their footsteps echoing against the cold concrete floors, accompanied by the faint creak of metal restraints as the heroes were forcefully pulled upright by the mechanism connecting their ankle collars, choke collars, and chastity belts.
Tooru, Ema, and Noa, still trembling under the relentless buzzing of their belts, staggered forward as the chains pulled them into motion. Their legs wobbled, their bodies stiff from the lack of rest, and their suits, soaked with sweat, clung tightly to their trembling forms. Each step they took caused the restraints to tug, forcing them to tiptoe slightly, desperate to avoid triggering a stronger vibration.
As the guards paraded them out into the prison hallway, the whistle blew again, sharp and commanding. The vibration from their belts spiked briefly, eliciting muffled groans from all three heroes.
“No… no more…” Tooru muttered hoarsely, his helmeted head tilting downward as he tiptoed to reduce the pull on his groin. His voice cracked as another jolt hit, forcing him to arch his back slightly. “Aaah…”
Ema, her breathing ragged, gasped loudly as the vibrations intensified with every step. “Please… stop… Kaaah…” Her legs trembled as she tried to maintain her balance, the ankle collar pulling sharply and forcing her onto her toes. Her visor fogged completely, her muffled groans mixing with the faint hum of the belts.
Noa’s body jerked as the vibrations hit him again, he said breaking as he let out a strained groan. “Aaah… just… just stop…!” His knees buckled slightly, but the tight restraints forced him upright, his head tilting back as the collar tugged painfully.
The guards led them through the hallways of the prison complex, past rows of other inmates who watched the scene with cruel amusement. Beyond the towering prison walls, glimpses of the blue sky and greener grass mocked the heroes, a cruel indicator of the freedom they had once fought for but now seemed so far out of reach. The whistle blew again, signaling the heroes to stop in unison.
Tooru groaned loudly, his body stiffening as the vibrations buzzed sharply against his groin. His trembling legs struggled to hold him upright, and sweat dripped down the sides of his helmet. “Aaah… just let… us go…”
Ema gasped, her knees trembling as the ankle collar yanked her upright again. “Kyaaah… I can’t… this is…” Her body arched slightly as the belt’s buzzing grew stronger, forcing her to tiptoe again to avoid a worse jolt.
Noa, his helmet tilting forward as he gasped for air, muttered weakly, “Why… why are they… doing this…?”
As the whistle blew again, the heroes were paraded into the central courtyard of the prison complex, the open sky above taunting them with its unreachable freedom. Around them, other prisoners laughed and jeered, their mocking voices cutting through the heroes’ muffled groans and gasps.
“Look at the mighty ‘heroes’ now,” one inmate sneered, leaning against the fence. “Can’t even walk without falling over themselves.”
Another inmate laughed. “Tiptoeing like ballerinas. Maybe they should put on a show for us.”
The guards joined in the mockery, one of them nudging Tooru’s trembling form with the tip of his baton. “What’s the matter, 3021? Not so strong now, are you?”
Tooru stiffened as the vibrations surged again, forcing him onto his toes. His voice cracked as he groaned, “Aaah… stop…”
Ema’s body trembled as the belt buzzed sharply, making her let out a loud gasp. “Kyaaah… please… just…” She wobbled on her toes, her legs quaking as she struggled to maintain her balance.
Noa, his breathing heavy, tried to steady himself, but the relentless pull of the restraints left him arching involuntarily. “Aaah… enough… just let us…”
The daily tour continued for what felt like hours, the heroes’ trembling bodies on full display for the mocking prisoners and the unrelenting guards. The vibrations from their belts buzzed mercilessly, each jolt forcing them to tiptoe higher, their trembling legs barely able to hold them upright. Sweat poured from their bodies, soaking their suits and pooling at their feet, and their muffled groans echoed faintly in the open courtyard.
***
The trio was marched through the prison, their trembling bodies barely holding them upright as they tiptoed toward the next section of their degrading tour. The sound of machines humming and the clattering of laundry carts grew louder as they entered the laundry section, where piles of dirty and clean sheets were stacked on either side of a massive room. The stench of sweat and detergent mingled in the air, adding to the oppressive atmosphere.
As the trio tiptoed forward, their visors caught sight of a group of figures further down the room, hunched over piles of dirty and clean sheets. Brightly colored suits, dulled and slick with sweat, moved with jerky, mechanical motions. The GoseiAngels—the younger team they had once cheered on, mentored, and watched grow—were unmistakable, despite their pitiful state.
Tooru’s breath hitched as he processed the scene. “It’s them… Alata, Hyde, Moune, Agri…” His voice trembled with shock and disbelief. “What have they done to them?”
Ema’s visor fogged as her trembling legs slowed. “They… they’re wearing those gloves… What even are those things?”
Noa, still wearing his helmet, let out a muffled groan as his sweat-drenched face buzzed uncomfortably under the sticky interior. His shoulders shuddered as he took a halting step forward. “Look at the writing… glowing on the sides…”
The trio squinted, and there it was—emblazoned in glowing yellow text along the boxing gloves, the humiliating name assigned to the device by the police: “POLICE ISSUED GRIP CONTROL: SUBMISSION ENFORCED.” The gloves were oversized and cumbersome, their bright surface bearing mocking caution lines that made them appear more like props of ridicule than tools of justice. The Angels could only clumsily hold large items like bed sheets, unable to perform the simplest tasks requiring dexterity. Worse, the gloves forced their hands into slightly open, puppet-like poses, rendering their movements awkward and degrading.
Tooru’s voice cracked as he repeated, almost in disbelief, “Alata… Hyde… Moune… Agri… they’re here too…”
Alata, the leader of the GoseiAngels, turned his helmeted head toward the Koryus, his trembling voice muffled but audible. “You’re… you’re here too?” His tone was weak, almost dazed, as if he couldn’t fully grasp the situation. “I guess… it makes sense. We… we all failed, didn’t we?”
Noa’s fists clenched inside his heroic helmet, trembling with frustration as sweat trickled down his neck, further soaking the sticky padding. His voice came out buzzing and strained. “No… no one failed! This isn’t what we were meant for!” Yet even as the words left his mouth, his knees buckled, and the sight of the Angels’ jerking, awkward movements made his conviction falter.
The Angels, barely able to lift their heads under the weight of their exhaustion, didn’t respond. The dull hum of the laundry machines and the oppressive mechanical clatter surrounded them, drowning out even the remnants of their heroic spirit.
“Tooru, Ema,” Hyde, the Angels' second-in-command, muttered, his usually calm voice cracking with uncertainty. “Maybe… maybe this is where we belong. We didn’t protect the Tower. Maybe… maybe we were helping Zangyack and didn’t realize it.”
Tooru’s visor fogged as he shook his head violently. “No! Don’t say that! You’re not… we’re not Zangyack agents!” His voice cracked with frustration as his legs wobbled under the unrelenting pull of the restraints. “You know that’s not true!”
Alata’s body swayed as he struggled to stay upright, his boxing-glove-covered hands hanging uselessly at his sides. “Then why… why does it feel like we were sent here to help them?” His arms hung limply as he let out a soft, trembling sigh. The glow of his chastity belt pulsed faintly, each flicker a indicator of their shame. “The Tower… it was destroyed. They said we were the ones who caused it… that we were working with Zangyack when we crashed on Earth.”
“No!” Ema cried, her voice muffled and trembling as she pulled against her bindings. “You were defending the Tower! You’re not responsible for what happened!”
The Koryus’ horror deepened as they stepped closer. The GoseiAngels’ chastity belts buzzed faintly, glowing intermittently as they trudged forward in an endless loop of labor, dragging heavy bundles of dirty sheets to washing machines and stacking clean sheets onto carts. The Angels’ helmets were fogged from sweat, their suits plastered to their trembling bodies, and their voices barely rose above the hum of the machinery.
Alata, the leader of the GoseiAngels, staggered under the weight of a massive pile of dirty sheets. His voice cracked as he muttered, “We don’t… deserve to hold weapons anymore. Not after the Tower…”
Hyde, usually calm and composed, struggled to push a cart laden with sheets, his movements jerky and hesitant. “They were right. We… we couldn’t protect the Tower. Maybe we were helping Zangyack and didn’t even realize it…”
Moune, the youngest of the team, let out a pitiful sob as she dragged a bag of wet laundry across the floor, her legs shaking under the strain. She clenched her fists weakly within her oversized gloves as tears streaked down her cheeks. “We… we failed. This is what we deserve. Cleaning up, helping the police… it’s the least we can do…”
Agri, his body trembling as he fumbled to load a washing machine with his oversized gloves, growled softly in frustration. His movements were clumsy, the weight of his failure reflected in every step. “I can’t… I can’t even hold anything properly. These gloves… they’re all I’m good for now.”
“No!” Tooru shouted, his voice breaking as he struggled against his restraints. “That’s not true! You’re not here to help the police! You’re heroes! You fought to protect Earth!”
Ema’s voice cracked as she tried to reach out. “Alata, Hyde… Moune, Agri… don’t believe them. Don’t let them take that from you. You’re more than this…”
Alata paused, his body trembling as he hesitated mid-step. “More than this?” His voice was weak, filled with self-doubt. “We… we couldn’t even protect the Tower. The police said… they said we were helping Zangyack… Maybe they’re right.”
Hyde let out a shaky sigh, his gloved hands trembling as he tried to balance a pile of sheets. “If we weren’t helping Zangyack, why couldn’t we stop them? Why did we fail so completely?”
Moune whimpered, her voice breaking as she stumbled forward, her boots dragging against the floor. “We… we’re not heroes. Heroes don’t fail like this. Heroes don’t… end up here.”
Agri shook his head faintly, his voice filled with bitterness. “And heroes don’t… don’t wear these…” He raised his gloved hands slightly, the glowing words on the gloves flashing mockingly in the dim light.
The air in the laundry room was thick with tension as the GoseiAngels were marched toward the mechanical rigs at the far end of the room, dragging their carts filled with dirty sheets. Their sweat-soaked suits clung to their trembling bodies, and their legs wobbled under the weight of their restraints and chastity belts. The Koryus—Tooru, Ema, and the helmeted Noa, his visor fogged from sweat—watched helplessly, their hearts sinking as they realized something horrifying was about to happen.
Above each Angel, sleek metallic arms descended, magnetized claws locking onto the tops of their helmets. A faint hiss echoed through the room as the helmets were slowly lifted off, exposing the Angels’ pale, sweat-drenched faces. Their breaths came in ragged gasps, their eyes wide with panic and fear.
“Alata! Hyde! Moune! Agri! Don’t let them take your helmets!” Tooru screamed, his voice trembling with desperation as he struggled against his restraints. “Fight back! You’re stronger than this!”
Ema’s voice cracked as she shouted, tears streaming down her face inside her helmet. “Please! Don’t give in! You can’t let them do this to you!”
Noa jerked violently against his restraints, his breathing loud and labored inside his sweat-slicked helmet. “No! Don’t let them take it!” His voice buzzed slightly through the comms, but his panic was unmistakable. “We can stop this! You can stop this!”
The Angels, helmetless and exposed, struggled weakly against the pull of the mechanical rigs, but their restraints and exhaustion left them defenseless. Above each of them, sleek latex masks descended, coiling hoses attached, their openings widening grotesquely as they slurped downward toward the heroes’ faces.
The muffled sounds of desperation echoed as the Angels gasped and groaned, their sweat-drenched bodies trembling as the masks latched onto their faces, sealing tightly. Their struggles faded into weak shudders as the hoses hissed and pulsed, leaving the Koryus horrified and powerless to intervene.
“No! Stop this!” Hyde shouted, his voice trembling as he thrashed against his restraints. “We’re not… we’re not meant for this!” His gloved hands twitched uselessly, the oversized boxing gloves rendering him incapable of grabbing or fighting back.
“Alata! What do we do?” Moune cried, her voice cracking as she stumbled under the weight of her restraints. “I don’t want this! I don’t want to go like this!”
Agri let out a frustrated growl, his gloved hands clenching into fists as he struggled to move. “Don’t let them win! Don’t let them take us! Fight it! Fight it!”
Alata’s voice trembled as he shouted back at his team. “Stay together! Don’t forget who we are! Don’t let them take your memories!” His words carried conviction, but his body betrayed him, quaking uncontrollably as the latex mask descended toward his head.
The first mask latched onto Hyde’s face with a sickening suction, molding tightly to his features as the hose attached to the mask began to pulse. “No… no… not like this!” Hyde groaned, his voice muffled as the slimy nourishment pumped into his mouth. His body jerked violently, his legs trembling under the strain as the aphrodisiac-laced substance overwhelmed his senses. “Moune… Agri… Alata… I… I’m sorry…”
Moune let out a piercing scream as the mask slurped over her face, sealing tightly in place. Her trembling hands clawed weakly at the latex surface, but the oversized gloves made any resistance futile. “No! I can’t… I can’t breathe! Alata! Agri! Help me!” Her voice became muffled as the mask forced the slimy substance into her mouth, her body convulsing as the sensations consumed her. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…” Her trembling legs gave out momentarily before the restraints yanked her upright again.
Agri thrashed violently as his mask descended, his muffled screams filled with rage and despair. “Alata! Don’t let them take me! Don’t—” His cry was cut off as the mask latched onto his face with a sharp hiss, the hose pulsing as it pumped relentlessly. His body stiffened, his knees buckling before the restraints jerked him upright once more. His gloved hands twitched uselessly as his muffled groans grew quieter, his struggles gradually fading.
Alata, the last to succumb, let out a strained gasp as the mask latched onto him. His voice, muffled but filled with anguish, called out to his team one final time. “Hyde… Moune… Agri… stay strong! Don’t… don’t forget…” His body jerked violently, his trembling legs forced into tiptoeing as the aphrodisiac-laced nourishment coursed through the hose. His muted sobs grew quieter as his movements slowed, the glowing chastity belt around his waist pulsing rhythmically in sync with the mask’s grotesque process.
“No! Stop it! Please!” Ema screamed, her voice trembling as she yanked against her restraints. “Don’t do this to them! They’re still heroes! Don’t take them!”
Tooru’s voice cracked with rage and despair as he thrashed violently against his ankle collar. “You monsters! Alata! Hyde! Fight it! You’re stronger than this!”
But their cries were met with silence as the Angels’ struggles ceased. The latex masks hissed faintly as they sealed completely, turning the heroes’ faces into blank, glossy forms. Their trembling bodies stiffened, their gloved hands hanging limply at their sides as the guards began to unhook them from the rigs.
The guards smirked, their laughter echoing through the room. “That’s the end of this batch. Another group ready to serve. Guess it’s just you two left, 3021 and 3022.”
Noa swayed slightly in his restraints, his voice reduced to a trembling mumble. “What if… what if it’s pointless… what if we really… belong here? Maybe… maybe we already failed…”
“Noa!” Ema shouted, her voice filled with anguish. “Don’t talk like that! You’re still in there! We can fight this together! Please, don’t give in!”
Tooru’s fists clenched tightly behind his back, his trembling body barely able to stay upright. “We couldn’t save them… we couldn’t save any of them…” His voice was raw with guilt as he looked at Noa, whose helmet was fogged with sweat, the faint buzz of his comms betraying his wavering strength.
The Angels, now blank-faced and motionless, were marched forward by the guards. Their bodies moved stiffly, mechanical and devoid of the energy that once defined them. The sight of their comrades, transformed and robbed of their identities, filled the Koryus with a crushing sense of helplessness.
As the Koryus were marched away, the haunting image of the glossy-masked Angels burned into their minds. Noa’s faint, doubtful mumbling, muffled within his helmet, echoed in their ears. “Maybe… maybe they were right… maybe we don’t deserve to be heroes…”
Ema shook her head violently, her voice trembling as she whispered, “Don’t say that… don’t give up…” But her words barely carried above the hum of the machinery and the guards’ mocking laughter.
The weight of their failure loomed over them like a shadow, growing heavier with each step. They knew that their own fate might soon mirror that of the Angels, and the thought filled them with an unbearable sense of dread.
***
By the time they were returned to their cells, the heroes were left utterly exhausted, their legs trembling uncontrollably as they were forced upright once again by the restraints. The guards, still smirking, locked the cells behind them and left without a word, the echoes of their laughter lingering in the suffocating silence.
The clanging footsteps of guards shattered the cold silence of the isolation wing as they approached Noa's cell. This time, the taunting aroma of food carried a heavier weight. The heroes had been enduring weeks of deprivation, their suits barely keeping them alive, their strength waning from the lack of sunlight. This time, the guards seemed confident—one of them would break.
“Noa, be smart,” the lead guard said, stopping outside his cell, smirking as he held up a steaming tray. “You’re looking weak. Just nod, let us take that helmet off, and you can eat. It’s that simple.”
Noa, trembling under the relentless buzzing of his chastity belt, felt the full weight of his exhaustion. His legs wobbled uncontrollably, his ankle collar pulling tightly with every subtle shift of his body. The nourishment from his suit was no longer enough, and the absence of sunlight left him barely standing. He tried to look away, but his eyes locked on the tray.
“Tooru… Ema…” he whispered, he said faint but filled with shame. “I… I don’t know if I can…”
In the adjacent cells, Tooru and Ema heard his words, their muffled screams of resistance rising sharply.
“Noa! Don’t do it!” Tooru shouted, he said cracking with desperation. “Don’t let them win! They’re lying to you!”
“Noa, please!” Ema screamed, she added trembling as she pulled against her restraints. “You don’t need their food! They just want to humiliate you! You’re stronger than this!”
Their voices echoed through the hall, filled with fear and defiance, but Noa’s trembling body betrayed him. The guards stepped closer, their smirks widening as they saw the hesitation in his fogged visor.
“It’s okay, 3023,” one guard said mockingly, tapping on the glass. “Your friends can scream all they want, but they can’t stop you. You’re the smart one, aren’t you? Make the right choice.”
“Noa, don’t listen to them!” Tooru yelled, he said hoarse as he thrashed against the vibrating restraints. “We’ll get through this! Just hold on!”
“Noooo!” Ema’s scream cracked as she strained against her bindings, her legs wobbling violently as the ankle collar forced her upright. “Don’t give them what they want! You’re a hero, Noa!”
The guards, amused by the desperate cries, turned back to Noa. “Well, what’s it going to be, 3023? Starve, or take the mask off and eat like a human?”
Noa’s trembling legs nearly gave out, and his helmeted head angled downward in resignation. Slowly, reluctantly, he nodded.
The lock on Noa’s helmet disengaged with a sharp hiss, and the guards entered the cell, their grins widening as they removed the protective headgear. Noa’s pale, sweat-drenched face was exposed to the harsh light of the cell, his exhaustion evident in his bloodshot eyes and trembling lips.
“No! Noa, no!” Ema screamed, she added breaking as she slammed her helmeted head against the glass of her cell. “Don’t let them do this! Fight back!”
“Nooo!” Tooru’s voice rang out, filled with anguish as he yanked violently against his restraints. “Put the helmet back on! Don’t let them—”
The guards ignored the cries, raising cameras to capture Noa’s exposed face. Flash after flash illuminated the cell, blinding him as they took a barrage of photographs. His head jerked back weakly, but the ankle collar kept him upright as the guards barked orders.
“Hold still, 3023. We need every angle,” one guard sneered, snapping more photos. “You’re going to be the face of the biggest betrayal Earth has ever seen.”
“No! Stop it!” Noa gasped, he said cracking as he tried to pull away. “You don’t—aaah—you don’t have to do this!”
The flashes stopped, and the guards stepped back, setting the cameras aside. One of them held up what looked like a sleek, black latex mask connected to a coiled hose. “Now for your meal,” the guard said with a smirk.
Before Noa could react, the mask was forced over his face, sealing tightly around his head. The latex clung to his skin, molding to every contour as the hose coiled around his neck. “What… what is this?!” Noa shouted, he said muffled by the mask as he struggled against the restraints. “Take it off—aaah—take it off!”
“Noa! No!” Tooru screamed, slamming his body against the restraints as the vibrations from his belt intensified. “Fight back! Don’t let them do this!”
Ema’s cries were filled with despair as she yanked against her chains, her helmeted head tilting back in anguish. “Please! Stop! Don’t do this to him! Noa, resist!”
The mask hissed ominously, and the hose vibrated before thick, slimy substance began to pump through it. The first burst hit Noa’s mouth, forcing its way in as the mask gagged him. The slimy protein tasted revolting, a mix of synthetic nourishment and something far worse. Noa’s muffled screams filled the cell as the mask continued to pump, the goop forcing its way down his throat with each burst.
“Nooo! Stop it! Please, stop!” Ema sobbed, she added cracking as she slammed against the restraints. “Don’t hurt him! Don’t—”
“Let him go!” Tooru roared, his body convulsing violently as he thrashed against the choking collar. “Noa, don’t give in! You’re stronger than this!”
But the mask’s effects grew worse. The protein was laced with aphrodisiacs, and as the substance coursed through his system, Noa’s body began to tremble uncontrollably. His muscles jerked violently, his legs quaking as the sensations overwhelmed him. His eyes rolled back, his muffled screams growing louder as his body arched involuntarily.
“Nooo!” Ema shrieked, she added breaking as tears streamed down her face inside her helmet. “Please, stop! Don’t do this to him!”
Tooru’s voice trembled with rage and despair. “You monsters! He’s had enough! Let him go!”
Noa’s body convulsed one final time before slumping forward, his breathing shallow and ragged as the mask hissed and deflated slightly. The guards stepped back, their laughter echoing as they left the cell, leaving Noa trembling and broken, his exposed face drenched in sweat and humiliation.
In the adjacent cells, Tooru and Ema continued to scream, their muted sobs of anguish filling the silence long after the guards had left.
***
The isolation chambers buzzed with an eerie silence, broken only by the muted sobs and the sharp squeaks of friction from the tight evidence plastic encasing the heroes. The guards dragged Noa back into the hall, his trembling body crawling obediently on all fours, the leash clipped to his neck collar pulling him forward like a trained beast. The visor of his helmet glowed brightly, casting a harsh spotlight that illuminated the prison’s walls and the faces of the other struggling prisoners.
Noa’s soul had already shattered. Beneath his helmet, his head was wrapped in an unforgivingly tight latex mask, fused to his skin like a second suffocating layer. His features were smoothed over, his humanity erased. He was unrecognizable even to himself, the choking grip of the mask stealing the last remnants of his identity. The muffled sound of his own ragged breathing inside the helmet only served to remind him how far he had fallen.
As his visor scanned over his struggling teammates, Tooru and Ema, their writhing forms pressed against each other in torment, he groaned through his gagged mouth—a hollow, pitiful sound. He could barely feel shame or grief anymore; all that remained was the relentless pull of the leash and the faint hum of his restraints. The guards yanked him harder, forcing his body to arch painfully as they stopped in front of Tooru and Ema’s chambers.
“Look at that, 3023,” one guard sneered, jerking the leash upward, causing Noa’s head to tilt unnaturally high. “Your friends are still fighting. Don’t you think it’s time they learned to serve, just like you?”
Noa’s muffled voice emerged, dull and lifeless, the words barely comprehensible through his gag. “They’ll… they’ll learn… They’ll… serve… too…”
The guards laughed cruelly as they watched Noa’s visor spotlight flicker across the restrained forms of his teammates. The glowing light traced over their writhing bodies, illuminating every humiliating detail of their struggles—the sweat pooling inside their suits, the trembling of their limbs, the muted sobs spilling from their gagged mouths.
Tooru arched his back violently against his restraints, his helmeted head shaking as he let out a guttural, muffled scream. “Noa! You’re not—don’t let them—!” His voice broke, choked off by the ball gag fused to his mouthguard, drool dripping down inside his helmet as he thrashed harder.
Ema’s body trembled as she struggled against the restraints holding her tightly against Tooru. Her muted sobs echoed faintly, her voice cracking as she screamed, “Noa! Fight back! Don’t… don’t let them—!” But her words dissolved into incoherent sounds as the unbearable friction of the evidence plastic and the vibrations of her restraints left her shaking uncontrollably.
Noa’s glowing visor flickered again, the light casting an almost mocking glow across the duo’s tortured forms. “They’ll… stop fighting…” he muttered, his voice hollow and broken. “They’ll… understand… just like I… do…”
The guards smirked, pleased with his response. One of them reached down and patted Noa’s helmet mockingly. “Good boy, 3023. You’re starting to sound just like a proper police tool.”
The leash was yanked sharply again, forcing Noa to crawl forward, his trembling body jerking with each pull. He groaned faintly, his broken voice muttering jumbled phrases of obedience. “Serve… protect… help the police…”
The guards dragged him through the corridors, but he could still hear the muffled screams of his teammates echoing faintly behind him. Tooru and Ema’s struggles grew more frantic as they fought against the suffocating restraints, their bodies writhing against each other as the squeaking of the plastic grew louder. The vibrations from their chastity belts pulsed harder, amplifying their torment as their muted sobs turned into incoherent wails.
The guards paused at another cell, turning Noa’s spotlight onto another group of prisoners. His glowing visor illuminated their faces—other fallen heroes who had once stood for justice, now reduced to trembling shells of their former selves. The guards laughed as they yanked Noa’s leash, forcing him to bow his head submissively.
“This one’s ready for the patrol unit,” one guard said, smirking as they tightened the leash around Noa’s neck collar. “He’s perfect for hunting down strays. Look at him—he’s practically begging to serve.”
Noa’s muffled voice emerged again, trembling and hollow. “Yes… to serve… the police…” His head angled upward as his glowing visor scanned the prisoners before him. Inside, his thoughts were fragmented and distant, the suffocating latex mask erasing his humanity with every passing moment.
Meanwhile, back in their chambers, Ema and Tooru’s struggles continued. The guards had shoved them together, forcing their bodies to remain pressed against each other as the suffocating evidence plastic squeaked and rubbed against their suits. The vibrations of their restraints pulsed relentlessly, sending jolts of unbearable sensation through their trembling bodies.
Ema groaned deeply, her muted sobs growing weaker as her body quaked uncontrollably. “Mmmmphhh! Nnnnnghhh!” Drool pooled inside her helmet as the ball gag fused to her mouthguard tightened, amplifying the suffocating pressure.
Tooru’s muffled voice was filled with frustration and despair as he strained against the restraints. “Mmmmphhh! Nnnnhhh! Nnnnghh!” His body trembled violently, every movement causing the plastic evidence bag to rub against him, sending waves of unrelenting torment through his form.
The guards watched through the screens, laughing as the duo’s struggles slowed, their bodies slumping against each other as exhaustion took hold. The chambers filled with the sounds of muted sobs, squeaking plastic, and the faint hum of the restraints. For Tooru and Ema, the torment seemed endless, their broken minds spiraling further as the suffocating heat and unceasing hum robbed them of all sense of self.
Noa, crawling through the corridors on his leash, could hear their muted sobs faintly in the distance. His broken mind registered them only dimly, his soul too far gone to process anything beyond the commands of his handlers. His glowing visor spotlight flickered faintly, illuminating the path ahead as the guards led him deeper into the prison, his trembling body a living tool for their control.
For the trio, the nightmare had no end.
***
The months dragged on, and the former GoseiKoryus—Tooru, Ema, and Noa—were reduced to tools of the police, their minds shattered and reprogrammed. Their trembling, sweat-soaked bodies moved mechanically, each step or motion guided by their restraints and the suffocating presence of the suffocating evidence plastic that encased their suits and helmets. The glowing visors on their helmets, once symbols of their heroism, now pulsed mockingly with their degrading new labels: "FACILITY GENERATOR UNIT," "ENTERTAINMENT UNIT," and "POLICE PATROL DOG."
Tooru, labeled "FACILITY GENERATOR UNIT," ran endlessly in the squeaking hamster wheel, his powerful legs trembling under the strain. The leash fastened to his neck collar kept him hunched forward, his glowing visor flickering with its mocking label. His arms, bound behind his back, swayed uselessly as the endless loop of humiliation continued.
The guards stood nearby, watching him with cruel amusement. One of them leaned in close, slamming his baton against the wheel’s frame. “Come on, 3021, let’s hear it. What’s your purpose now?”
Tooru’s glowing visor pulsed faintly as he gasped for air, his voice trembling but automatic. “Run… generate… serve… to help the police…” Each word came out in a rhythmic chant, matching the motion of his trembling legs. The guards burst into laughter, jeering at his broken compliance.
“That’s the spirit!” one guard mocked, smirking. “See, this is why we’re the real heroes. You fools just get in the way, thinking you can do our jobs. Leave it to us, 3021. Just keep running like the good little generator you are.”
Tooru’s trembling body arched slightly as he stumbled, the shocks from his collar forcing him to pick up his pace. “Run… generate… serve…” he chanted again, his broken voice barely audible beneath the squeaking of the wheel. His visor flickered, his shattered mind repeating the words endlessly as he powered the facility without question.
Ema, labeled "ENTERTAINMENT UNIT," knelt trembling in the brothel, her sweat-drenched body quaking under the suffocating evidence plastic encasing her. Her ball gag, fused into her helmet, muffled her soft cries as she complied with the guards’ every demand. The leash attached to her neck collar pulled her into position as her visor glowed faintly, flickering with its degrading label.
“Let’s hear it, 3022,” one guard said, pulling roughly on her leash. “What are you here for?”
Ema’s trembling body quaked as the vibrations from her restraints intensified, forcing her to respond. Her muffled voice emerged weakly, trembling but automatic. “Obey… entertain… serve… to help the police…”
The guards burst into laughter, their mocking voices filling the room. “That’s right,” one sneered, nudging her helmet with his boot. “You’re not a hero, 3022. You’re just here to serve us. That’s all you were ever good for.”
Ema’s visor flickered, the glowing words mocking her as her broken mind repeated the chant. “Obey… entertain… serve…” Her trembling body shuddered with humiliation, but her thoughts were too fragmented to fight back. She was no longer Ema, no longer a hero—just a tool.
Noa, crawling through the corridors as "POLICE PATROL DOG," moved obediently on all fours, his head tightly encased in a suffocating latex mask beneath his helmet. The glowing visor, flickering with the words "POLICE PATROL DOG," cast a harsh spotlight ahead, illuminating the dark corridors. His leash was held tightly by a guard, who yanked it roughly to keep him moving.
“Let’s hear it, 3023,” the guard sneered, giving the leash another sharp tug. “What’s your job?”
Noa groaned faintly through the gag embedded in his helmet, his voice muffled but monotone. “Patrol… spotlight… serve… to help the police…” His trembling body quaked as he crawled forward, the suffocating plastic squeaking loudly with every movement.
The guards laughed cruelly, one of them slapping his trembling back with a baton. “That’s all you’re good for, 3023. Leave the real hero work to us. You’re just here to make sure we get the job done.”
Noa’s glowing visor flickered as his broken mind repeated the chant. “Patrol… spotlight… serve…” His body shivered under the suffocating heat of his suit, but his thoughts were blank, his obedience automatic. He was no longer Noa—just a patrol dog for the police.
The three of them, broken and trembling, chanted their new roles endlessly, their glowing visors mocking them with every flicker:
Tooru: "Run… generate… serve… to help the police…"
Ema: "Obey… entertain… serve… to help the police…"
Noa: "Patrol… spotlight… serve… to help the police…"
Their once-heroic identities were gone, erased by months of torment and degradation. They were no longer individuals, no longer heroes. They were tools, living items designed to serve the police without question, their trembling, sweat-drenched forms fulfilling their degrading roles in silence. The guards reveled in their torment, their jeers and taunts amplifying the trio’s humiliation as they worked tirelessly, their broken voices chanting endlessly in the suffocating darkness.
