The tent rustled around Ashe as he hunched over his journal, pencil tapping against the page. The cube had been quiet all morning—eerily so—and the sound of his own breathing filled the small space.

  Day 14. Two weeks in. Still alive. Still—

  The floor lurched beneath him.His pencil tore a line across the page as the entire cube shuddered violently. The tent pitched forward, and Ashe’s face met the floor with a dull thud.

  “Wha—?!”

  He scrambled upright, the tremor fading into a low hum that vibrated through the walls. Then came the system’s familiar chime, clear and toneless:

  “Welcome to the group living module. Four participants detected.Today’s directive: Appoint a leader. The leader’s vote will be used as a tiebreaker in future decisions.”

  The hum cut out, leaving an uncanny silence.

  Ashe slowly unzipped the tent fp and peeked out——and froze.

  To his right, the sterile white floor simply ended, blending into a patch of soft, living grass. Actual grass. Dew clung to each bde, shimmering under the cube’s overhead light. Beyond it stood what looked like a small wooden cabin, smoke curling faintly from a metal chimney vent. The entire quadrant stretched wider than his own, almost like a miniature homestead stitched into the sterile architecture.

  Then movement—J.H. stepped out from behind the cabin, stretching zily, every line of him at ease. He turned, and their eyes met across the new shared space.

  Ashe ducked back into the tent so fast he nearly fell on his face again.“G-give me a second!” he stammered. “I’m—uh—just getting dressed!”

  A pause. Then, J.H.’s amused drawl:

  “Hard to hear you in there, Sunshine.”

  The zipper to the tent door started to move.

  “Wait—don’t—!” Ashe fumbled for his sundress, tugging it over his head. His fingers trembled as he yanked on the single pair of duck-print underwear. He barely got them in pce before the zipper reached the top.

  The fp pulled open.

  J.H. filled the doorway, one eyebrow cocked, that half-smile firmly in pce.

  “There you are. Thought maybe the quake buried you alive.”

  Ashe’s face burned. “You could’ve waited!”

  “Could’ve,” J.H. said lightly, leaning an arm on the tent frame. “Didn’t sound like you were answering.”

  Ashe bit back a retort. Clearly, J.H. meant no harm. He told himself that twice, then forced a small smile. “Right. Sorry. Just… startled.”

  J.H. tilted his head, gaze drifting past Ashe. “What’s this?” he asked, reaching for the open journal resting on Ashe’s little nest of bnkets .

  Ashe’s stomach dropped. The page was open to a half-finished doodle—J.H.’s outline, his grin sketched in with just enough accuracy to be damning.

  “It’s nothing!” Ashe lunged forward, spping the cover shut before J.H.’s fingers could touch it. He shoved the notebook under the pillow beside him with a little too much force.

  J.H. blinked, that knowing smirk threatening to return—but, for once, he let it slide.“Sure,” he said easily, like he’d just confirmed something.

  From across the newly merged space, another set of eyes caught the scene—a young, slim man, seated on a pillow in the opposite quadrant, watching quietly. He made a mental note:Red fg.

  J.H. extended a hand toward Ashe, palm open.

  “C’mon, Sunshine. World’s gotten bigger—might as well see it standing up.”

  Ashe hesitated only a second before taking it. J.H.’s grip was warm, steady, and it pulled him up with ease.

  “Good to see you again,” J.H. said with that same easy grin.

  Ashe narrowed his eyes. “You owe me some info.”

  J.H. chuckled. “And you’re still impatient.” He nodded past Ashe instead. “Turn around.”

  Ashe frowned, but did as told. Where the back of his tent should’ve met a wall, there was now an open expanse—two additional quadrants seamlessly connected to his own.

  The space catty-corner to them caught his eye first: a young man sat cross-legged on a floor cushion before what looked like a low desk, the soft glow of a ft, computer-like screen illuminating his sharp, focused expression. His area was impossibly tidy—bnkets folded in a perfect stack next to him, a small, organized pile of wrappers and packaging set neatly near the center of the room near the tent instead of scattered. Along the far side, near a closed elevator door, hung a thin curtain stretched between two improvised poles—sectioning off something unseen.

  It was clean. Controlled. Almost unnervingly so.

  The other and st quadrant, the one directly behind Ashe’s tent couldn’t have been more different: A heap of tangled bnkets and wrappers surrounded a lopsided Model 02 bucket toilet near the wall

  “Wait…” Ashe said slowly. “Wasn’t there supposed to be four of us?”

  J.H. nodded once, already moving. “Guess one of them sleeps heavy.”

  He started toward the bnket pile, calling over his shoulder. “Hey, new guy! You alive over there? Get over here, we’ve got a situation.”

  The young man’s head turned slightly, but he didn’t answer. His posture was tight, cautious, like someone weighing the cost of standing up.

  Ashe stepped forward, softer. “Please come. I think… we’re supposed to be a group now.”

  That seemed to work. He rose from the floor cushion and approached, slow and wary, eyes flicking between them.

  J.H., impatient as ever, crouched by the mound of bnkets and grabbed the top one in a single motion.“Would you take a look at that.”

  The covers fell away, revealing a young woman lying still—her dove-gray shift-dress clinging loosely to her frame, a frayed pink ribbon cinching the waist. One shoulder had slipped free, pale skin visible in the dim light.

  Ashe’s breath caught. “Chloe?”

  J.H. looked between them, one brow raised. “You know her?”

  The newcomer knelt down beside the girl, analyzing with a detached precision. “She’s breathing,” he said evenly. “We should check her pulse… and her temperature.”

  Neither J.H. nor the young man moved to touch her. Instead, both of them turned—subtly, expectantly—to Ashe.

  He blinked, misunderstanding the reason for their stares. “Oh—right. I said her name. I’ll, uh… check.”

  Ashe dropped to his knees beside Chloe, heart hammering. He’d seen people check for a pulse in movies, but never done it himself.

  He pressed two trembling fingers against the side of her neck and waited.

  Nothing at first. Then—faintly—a thump.

  “She has a pulse!” he blurted, relief flooding through him.

  Next, he pressed his palm to her forehead. Warm. Too warm. His fingers came away slick with sweat.

  “She’s really warm,” he said quickly, looking over his shoulder. “Like… really warm.”

  The young man crouched beside him, eyes analytical. “Judging by the amount of perspiration, it could be dangerous. But without an actual temperature reading, it’s impossible to know how severe.”

  Ashe’s chest tightened. He’d been so focused on surviving—on eating, earning credits, managing the penalty device—that he hadn’t thought to check on Chloe once for over a week. Now she was here, fragile and feverish, and he’d done nothing.

  He swallowed hard. “We should… check our shops. Maybe there’s a thermometer or something that can help.”

  The three of them split to their respective terminals.

  Ashe arrived at his first. The screen pulsed a soft white, dispying the new directive:

  “Appoint a leader. The leader’s vote will be used as a tiebreaker in future decisions.”

  Along with four buttons, each dispying one of their names:

  Ashe; Chloe; Jimmy; EliBelow that, in colder text:

  “Failure to reach unanimous agreement will result in a cold snap within the living modules. Temperatures expected to drop below freezing.”

  He stared for a second, a pit forming in his stomach.That’s new…

  He pushed the message aside and entered the shop menu. His fingers scrolled frantically through categories until he found it—Oral Thermometer: 250 CR.

  His heart sank. He didn’t even have half that.

  By the time he returned to the others, his chest felt hollow. “It’s too expensive,” he said quietly, avoiding both their eyes. “I can’t buy it.”

  Eli folded his arms, expression neutral but voice edged with disbelief. “Two hundred fifty credits for a thermometer? That’s steep—even by this system’s standards.”

  J.H. leaned back with an easy grin. “Two-fifty? Huh. Mine was only a hundred.” He shrugged. “Guess the system just likes me more.”

  Ashe turned toward J.H., eyes wide and pleading.

  “I know that’s still a lot of credits, but we have to help her somehow!” His voice cracked with guilt and urgency. “Please!”

  J.H. blinked, caught off guard by the sheer desperation in Ashe’s tone. He rubbed the back of his neck.“Look, a hundred credits ain’t alot’—but it ain’t exactly pocket change either,” he said, half-grumbling, half-deflecting.

  Eli crossed his arms, his tone cool. “With all those upgrades you’ve got,” he said, gesturing toward the oversized quadrant and its full-blown cabin, “surely you can afford to chip in here.”

  J.H. exhaled through his nose, the smirk fading into a resigned sigh. “Yeah, yeah. Fine. Don’t get your panties in a twist.”

  He disappeared toward his terminal. A moment ter, he returned, holding out a small thermometer toward Ashe.“Here.”

  Ashe blinked at it. The design was longer and thicker than the one he’d seen in his shop—though it still at least had digital readout.

  “This doesn’t look like the oral thermometer that was listed in my shop,” he said warily.

  J.H. raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “Oral? Huh. Guess that expins why mine was cheaper.”He paused just long enough for the punchline.

  “Didn’t have that option. Only came in the rectal model.”

  Ashe’s brain caught up with what J.H. had just said, and the color drained from his face.“Wait—what?!” He held the thermometer out at arm’s length like it might bite him. “I don’t think this is a good idea!”

  J.H. pressed his lips together, shoulders shaking as he fought not to ugh.

  Eli stepped in, voice trembling as he tried to sound reassuring. “N-not that I have any personal experience with this, but I—I’ve, um, read about it before… online.”

  Ashe froze, locking eyes with him.

  Eli’s face went scarlet. “It’s not like that! I just mean—it’ll fit fine if you use plenty of lubricant. Okay?”

  Ashe blinked, thrown off by how flustered he was before thinking to himself I mean… yeah, I guess I knew that too. We’re all guys here—we’ve probably seen that in action online before.. The thought still made him blush all the same.He hesitated, then noted softly, “You’re right… thank you. Your name’s Eli, right? I saw it on the terminal earlier.”

  Eli straightened so quickly it was almost comical. “Yes! Uh—yeah, I’m Eli. Sorry, I should’ve said that before.”

  Before the moment could get any more awkward, J.H. stepped forward, grinning like he’d been waiting for his cue.

  “Alright, now that we’re all friends here,” he said, cpping his hands together, “how about we get this moving along, yeah?”

  Ashe turned toward him, still visibly embarrassed. “Eli’s right… we need special lube for this. Anal lube.”

  J.H. raised an eyebrow. “And you want me to buy it?”

  Ashe nodded weakly. “Please? I’ll make it up to you somehow.”

  J.H. rubbed his chin, pretending to think, though the smirk tugging at his mouth gave him away.“I’ll buy it—on one condition. Promise me none of it goes to waste.”

  "O-okay, I'll try my best?" Ashe states in audible confusion.

  Both J.H. and Eli froze. J.H. burst into a short ugh, while Eli’s eyes went wide.

  “Didn’t think you were the type,” J.H. said, still chuckling as he turned away. “But I keep finding myself liking you more and more, Sunshine.”

  He strolled off toward his terminal, a definite spring in his step.

  Eli gnced back at Ashe, trying to read his face. “Have you ever, uh… done that kind of stuff before?”

  Ashe tilted his head. “What kind of stuff?”

  Eli hesitated, words tripping over each other. “I mean—you said you’d be willing to use all the lube. I thought you meant…”

  Ashe blinked. “Oh! I just meant if someone else got sick, we could use it again.”

  Eli’s eyes widened in sudden realization. “Oh.” A pause. “I see. That… makes sense.”

  Silence.

  Then, another small, awkward cough from Eli. “Right. Good pn.”

  J.H. returned a few minutes ter, still wearing that same smirk, a small bottle in hand.“Just as promised,” he said, handing it over.

  Ashe took it with a stiff nod, his brain already starting to spiral. He repeated the mantra that had kept him sane since all this began:

  My name is Ashe Tran, and I will not break.

  It had helped back when he’d woken up half-dressed in this strange pce, trembling and confused. Somehow, standing here now, holding a bottle of lubricant over an unconscious woman, the words didn’t quite carry the same strength.

  Eli cleared his throat awkwardly. “Uh… I guess we should give them some privacy?”

  J.H. blinked, genuinely puzzled. “You don’t want to watch?”

  Eli’s eyes went wide. “What—no! I mean, we should… go somewhere else.” His voice cracked slightly as he gestured toward J.H.’s side of the cube. “Your cabin’s door is on the far side, right? Maybe in there?”

  J.H. frowned. “Tsk. I don’t like strangers on my property.” He jerked his chin toward the far wall. “What about that curtain? That’s yours, right?”

  Eli followed his gaze. “Oh—yeah, that works. Just figured I’d give them some distance. Out of earshot and all.”

  J.H. hesitated, then sighed. “Fine. But if I don’t get to hear, then you don’t either. Follow me.”

  Eli blinked. “That’s… not how that works.”

  But J.H. was already walking, hands in his pockets, posture tall and casual as always. Eli followed reluctantly, trying to make himself as small and unnoticeable as possible behind him.

  Ashe froze, staring down at what was in his hands—the thermometer and the bottle of lubricant. The absurdity of it made his stomach twist. For a long, suspended moment he just stood there, feeling the pulse of his own heartbeat echo in his fingertips.

  He inhaled slowly. Exhaled. Again.

  When he finally lifted his gaze past his hands, it nded on the figure lying on her side a few feet away.

  He remembered her from that single frozen image on his terminal two weeks ago, but seeing her in person now… she looked even smaller. More fragile.

  Her dove-gray shift-dress clung unevenly to her slender frame, cinched at the waist by a frayed pink ribbon. One shoulder had slipped free, revealing the smooth line of her colrbone. Wisps of chestnut hair spilled from a half-fallen braid, a limp silk ribbon tangled near the nape. A single pearl earring still hung from one ear—the other missing, just like the strength that seemed to have drained from her face.

  Her light-ivory skin had a sheen of sweat that caught the dim light, highlighting the faint dark circles under her eyes. She had that kind of natural, bred-in elegance that looked out of pce in a pce like this—delicate, refined, and quietly dignified even now.

  A small, pale scar crossed the inside of her right wrist, and Ashe’s eyes lingered on it a moment too long before he forced himself to look away.

  He swallowed hard.She looked helpless—too still, too fragile—and the thought hit him like a weight.This was his fault.

  Ashe edged closer, settling onto his knees beside her.

  He reached out and gave her shoulder a careful shake. “Chloe? Hey, can you hear me?”

  She stirred faintly, a soft sound catching in her throat. The motion made the already-loose strap of her shift slide farther down her arm, revealing a dangerous amount of side cleavage.

  Ashe froze, hand halfway withdrawn, suddenly aware of how close he was. Heat crept up his neck, his penalty device feeling even tighter than before.

  “Sorry,” he whispered, though he wasn’t sure who he was apologizing to.

  Ashe reached out slowly, adjusting her legs to a more receptive pose, enough to see what he was doing. Even after two weeks, her skin was still completely smooth. He blinked, realizing how out of pce that detail felt here.Laser removal? Or maybe she’s just… like me, he thought, a nervous half-smile flickering and fading just as quickly.

  He gathered the loose fabric of her nightgown carefully, trying to move it aside without thinking too hard about what he was doing.

  And there it was, his mind fshing bnk for a second before embarrassment set in, hot and immediate. The first thing that caught Ashe’s eyes where her dy bits, even that part of her looked elegant, pink and pretty, though it confirmed one thing to Ashe, unlike Ashe, she didn’t have alopecia on her body. her pubes were short and pristine. Chestnut color just like her hair, clearly they had been trimmed somewhat recently, probably before she got pulled into this mess.

  Uncensored Version

  Between her delicate yet full buns, was her shockingly pink puckered ring. Every part of her screamed princess. If her legs had been professionally done, than so had her other parts too clearly. It was insanely inviting, every part of her looked tasty.

  Ashe winced as the pain from his groin reached his brain. The tightness of the penalty device shocked his senses back. Focus, Ashe. You’re helping her, not inspecting her.“I can’t believe what I was thinking… Though you do look like Sleeping Beauty.”

  There was a faint, human scent to her — warm and a little sour, with an undertone of something sweet and milky, unmistakably feminine. It wasn’t unpleasant; just real, the kind of scent born of fever and fear rather than neglect.

  “Well… except for the smell. Guess I’ll have to sponge you down ter.”

  Ashe uncapped the anal lube and gnced at the thermometer. The tip was thicker than he expected, and it only widened the closer it got to the base.

  “Maybe it’s better she’s asleep for this,” he murmured.

  The thought made his own rear end twitch with sympathy.

  Next, Ashe squirted a small amount onto her behind, though his aim wasn’t perfect. A bead of clear gel slid down her tush, catching the light before arriving at her entrance. The sudden cold made her body flinch, but within moments her breathing steadied again, slow and bored.

  Ashe reached out, hesitating before thrusting forward a single finger. Depths man has yet to explore, he thought grimly — if “man” happened to mean himself.

  He moved with care, circling her hole with slow, deliberate motions, the way he might polish a coin. It was a motion he’d practiced countless times on himself without a second thought while cleaning himself, but doing it for someone else felt entirely different — intimate, personal in a way that made his pulse race.

  Now that her rim was properly prepared, he took the plunge and pushed gently inwards, slipping in barely an inch before she made a faint sound — not quite a groan, more a breath caught halfway between discomfort and dream. Ashe froze, pulse thudding in his ears. He spoke aloud, just to keep himself from spiraling into panic.

  “Sorry, Chloe… I know this isn’t fair. The thermometer’s thicker, so… please, just bear with me.”

  If he ever ended up on the receiving end of something like this, he hoped the other person would be just as gentle.

  Ashe moved with deliberate patience, easing his finger in and out of her hole to help her body adjust. He massaged in more lubricant whenever the motion started to catch, careful not to push too far too fast.

  After a few steady minutes, he realized he’d reached the base of his finger — and forced himself to stop there.

  Another inch or so and she’d probably take me all the way, he thought with some embarrassment.

  Ashe shook his head lightly. Come on, Ashe—focus. She was as ready as she was ever going to be, she felt noticeably more rexed wrapped around his finger than when he began. He started to withdraw, maybe a bit too quickly, and felt her muscles tighten around him inviting him further in. After a long moment, her grasp on him rexed, once again.

  Ashe’s breaths became unsteady, and movement jerky. Yanking his finger from her pleasantly warm cavern far too quickly earning himself a whimper barely above a sigh, and a cute wink from her bumhole.

  He could feel himself dripping through his penalty device, heat and ache building with every breath. Seven days of excruciating confinement had left him raw and restless; it felt like living inside a cage. Even before it locked on, he’d been desperate for release.

  The faint scent of her fever and sweat filled his head, dizzying in the close air. The warmth radiating from her body was too much. The unconscious pull he felt but moments ago seemed impossible to decline. For someone as inexperienced and starved for a woman’s touch as him, it was far too much to handle.

  The only thing that grounded him was the all too sharp, and far too unpleasant reminder of what it’s like to be on the other side of unbridled lust. Ashe tentatively rubbed his throat, that living doll had left a sting mark on him. If not physically, then certainly emotionally. The device caging his manhood wouldn’t have let him have his way even if he had lost himself. Ripe fruit and delicate flower vulnerable and defenseless, yet Ashe found himself helplessly impotent.

  Ashe gulped and readied his so-called weapon of choice, its tiny digital screen gring up at him like an accusation.

  It may not have been Excalibur, but it would be plunged in regardless. He pressed forward by slow degrees. She took the first inch like a champ. Then two,already noticeably thicker than Ashe’s finger. She was swallowing it whole with little difficulty. By the time Ashe reached three she was clearly struggling even in her unconscious state, her breath became ragged and her body tensed.

  Ashe froze.

  A cold wave of realization hit him—he had no idea how deep he was supposed to go. He reflected on his actions. A cold wave of realization hit him: the thermometer was still off.

  Sweat gathered along his brow as he fumbled for the power switch. A sharp beep broke the silence, followed by a single line of glowing numbers.

  Unscensored Version

  103.2°F | 39.5°C

  Ashe exhaled, half in relief that it finally worked—and half in dread. “That’s… way too high,” he whispered. The sound of his own voice felt strange in the still air.

  He had what he came for. Carefully—slowly this time—he gently unsheathed the thermometer from Chloe’s rear end, mindful not to startle her or himself.

  When the st inch slipped free, he thought he heard a soft exhale from her—a sigh, maybe. Relief? It was hard to tell.

  Ashe gnced toward her face, searching for any sign of discomfort or awareness, but her expression stayed calm and distant. He decided it was probably just his own nerves echoing back at him.

  His eyes lingered longer than they should have. He knew what he’d done was necessary. But as a man, he couldn’t help the flicker of shameful thoughts that followed—about how delicate a maiden she looked id bare like this. That part of himself disgusted him. In a way the penalty device helped them both through this traumatic event, though the constant ache it caused did little to ease his frustration.

  Flustered, he hurried to pull her nightgown back down, restoring her modesty. While he was at it, he gently tugged the fallen shoulder strap into pce.

  He stepped back, heartbeat hammering, staring down at the faint blush of her fevered cheeks.“Hang on, Chloe…” he muttered, the words trembling from urgency.

  Then he turned and ran—bare feet spping against the cool floor, racing for J.H.’s cabin.

  sUWUly