Chapter 5 - "Alone"
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"I think you need to come with us," the red-haired woman said, and it wasn't a request.
"Come with—wait, what?" I took a step back. "Look, I'm not trying to cause trouble. I just need to find—"
"Sir, please don't make this difficult." The brown-haired woman moved with practiced efficiency, pulling out what looked like handcuffs from her belt. Except these weren't normal handcuffs—they glowed with a faint blue light that definitely screamed "sci-fi future technology I don't understand."
"Whoa, whoa, WHOA!" I raised my hands defensively. "Handcuffs? Seriously? I haven't done anything wrong!"
"You're an unregistered person who appeared in Sector 7 without authorization," the red-haired woman stated matter-of-factly. "That's three separate violations right there."
"Unregistered? I don't even know where I AM!"
"Exactly." She nodded to the brown-haired woman. "Restrain him."
"This is ridiculous!" I protested as the glowing handcuffs clicked around my wrists. They felt warm but not uncomfortable. "I'm a victim here! There was an explosion! A fire! I nearly died!"
"You can explain everything at headquarters," the blonde woman said, though her expression had softened slightly. "If you cooperate, this will go much smoother."
"Cooperate with WHAT?"
But they were already guiding me—more like herding me—toward a sleek vehicle parked nearby. It looked like someone had taken a luxury car and removed all the wheels, leaving it hovering about a foot off the ground.
"Of course it flies," I muttered. "Why wouldn't it fly."
They loaded me into the back seat, with the brown-haired woman sitting beside me while the other two took the front. The vehicle hummed to life and lifted smoothly into the air.
And that's when I got my first real look at the city.
"Holy..."
We glided between the massive towers, and I pressed my face against the window like a kid at an aquarium. Holographic advertisements flickered on building sides—some language I could somehow read despite it looking nothing like Japanese. Transparent walkways connected structures hundreds of feet in the air. Gardens grew on rooftops and balconies, adding splashes of green to all the glass and steel.
It was beautiful. Impossible. Terrifying.
But as we descended toward street level and merged into traffic—yes, there was actual traffic, just vertically stacked—something started nagging at me.
People. Lots of people visible through the transparent sides of other vehicles, walking on those sky-bridges, gathered in plazas.
All women.
"Huh," I said.
I kept watching. We passed a café with outdoor seating—all women. A group jogging through a park—all women. Workers in uniform directing traffic—all women.
"Okay, that's weird," I muttered.
"What is?" the brown-haired woman asked.
"Where are all the guys?"
The three women exchanged another one of those looks. The kind of look that said I'd just asked something incredibly stupid or incredibly concerning.
"What do you mean?" the red-haired woman asked from the front seat.
"I mean... men? Dudes? The other half of the population?" I gestured vaguely at the passing scenery. "I haven't seen a single guy since I woke up."
Silence.
*Oh no.*
A horrible realization started creeping up my spine.
"There... there are men here, right?" My voice came out higher than intended. "Like, this isn't some kind of Amazon warrior society where men are forbidden or—"
"Men exist," the blonde woman said carefully. "They're just... rare."
"Rare." I repeated the word like it was foreign. "How rare are we talking? Like, endangered species rare or—"
"The current male-to-female ratio is approximately 1 to 1000," the red-haired woman stated.
My brain stalled.
"I'm sorry, did you just say One Thousand to ONE?"
"1000.3, to be precise."
"That's—that's not possible! That's biologically impossible! How does humanity even—" I cut myself off, my face heating up as several very concerning implications hit me all at once.
The brown-haired woman smirked slightly. "Now you're starting to understand why you're coming with us."
"Oh god." I slumped back in my seat. "Oh god, I'm in one of *those* worlds."
"Those worlds?" the blonde woman asked.
"You know—" I gestured helplessly with my cuffed hands. "The harem anime worlds where one guy is surrounded by hundreds of girls because of some contrived demographic crisis and—" I stopped, looking at their serious faces. "This is real. This is actually real. I'm not in an anime."
"I don't know what an 'anime' is," the red-haired woman said, "but yes, this is very real."
The vehicle began descending toward a massive complex of buildings surrounded by high walls and security checkpoints. Military vehicles—also flying, because of course—patrolled the perimeter.
"Welcome to Central Military Headquarters," the red-haired woman announced.
"Military?" My voice cracked. "Why are we going to the MILITARY?"
"All unregistered males are processed through security," she explained calmly. "Standard protocol."
"I don't like the sound of 'processed.'"
"No one does."
We landed in a secure garage deep within the complex. The moment the door opened, armed guards—again, all women—surrounded the vehicle. They wore sleek armor that looked both functional and futuristic, carrying weapons I couldn't begin to identify.
"This way," one of the guards said, gesturing toward a reinforced door.
They marched me through a maze of corridors, all sterile white walls and humming fluorescent lights. We passed other people—scientists, soldiers, administrators—and every single face that turned to watch me was female. Some looked curious. Others looked predatory in a way that made my skin crawl.
Finally, we stopped at a door marked "Interrogation Room 7."
"In," the guard ordered.
The room was exactly what you'd expect: gray walls, a metal table, two chairs, and a large mirror that was definitely one-way glass. Very welcoming.
They removed the glowing handcuffs but positioned guards at the door. Then they left me there.
Alone.
I sat in the chair and tried very hard not to have a complete breakdown.
*Okay, Kaito. Think. You're in the future. Somehow. Men are nearly extinct. Somehow. You're being interrogated by the military. Somehow. And that girl—*
The door opened.
A woman walked in, and I immediately straightened in my chair.
She was older than the others, maybe in her forties, with gray streaking through her short black hair. She wore a military uniform with enough medals and insignia to suggest she was important. Very important.
But it was her eyes that caught me—sharp, calculating, and utterly unreadable.
She sat down across from me, folding her hands on the table.
"Kaito Aoyama," she said, her voice cool and professional. "My name is Colonel Hasegawa. I have some questions for you."
I swallowed hard.
"Yeah. I, uh... I figured."
She pulled out a tablet, tapping it a few times before fixing me with that penetrating stare.
"Let's start simple," she said. "Where were you born?"
"Tokyo. Well, near Tokyo. Sakuragawa district."
"When?"
"When was I born? Uh, April 15th, 2007—wait, what year is it now?"
Her expression didn't change. "It's 2257."
The room tilted.
"I'm sorry, did you just say—"
"2257," she repeated calmly. "You claim you're from Tokyo in 2007. That would make you..."
"Two hundred and fifty years old," I finished weakly. "Except I'm seventeen. I'm only seventeen."
Colonel Hasegawa leaned forward slightly.
"So, Kaito Aoyama," she said softly, "why don't you tell me how a seventeen-year-old boy from the year 2024 ended up in my city?"
And I realized, with growing horror, that I was about to have the most insane conversation of my life.
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