Harem Apocalypse: Every Moan Levels Us Up!

The curtain fell behind me with a soft hush of fabric.

Eleanor sat beside a wide wooden bathtub, wrapped in a light blue robe that clung to the curve of her shoulders and the swell of her breasts. She poured liquid from a small glass container into the steaming water, slow, deliberate streams catching lantern light in thin golden threads. Steam curled upward in lazy spirals, thickening the air with sweet herbal scent that settled heavy on my tongue.

A second chair waited beside her, empty.

"Please sit," she said, glancing at me once. Her dark eyes flicked over my face before returning to the pour.

I sat. The wooden seat was warm under my thighs.

"You came for answers," she said. Not a question.

"Yes."

She set one container down with a soft clink and picked up another. I leaned forward slightly, elbows on my knees, searching for the single thread that might pull everything else loose. 𝐟𝗿𝐞𝚎𝚠𝐞𝚋𝕟𝐨𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝚖

"Who am I?" I asked.

She stopped mid-pour. The liquid hung suspended for a heartbeat, then she set the container down with precise care. She turned fully toward me, black hair sliding over one shoulder, the robe shifting against her skin.

"You’re wise," she said. "Do you know that?"

I stayed silent.

"Identity explains purpose," she continued, picking the container up again. "You went straight to the root." She resumed pouring, the stream steady. "Let me tell you what this world is. What the system inside you is. That will tell you who you are more than any direct answer could."

"Please," I said, and leaned back into the chair.

"Have you noticed that women make things easy for you?" she asked.

I thought about it. Annabelle on the bathroom floor deciding to trust a stranger in seconds. Mable knocking on my door at midnight. Sherry threading her fingers through mine in the back of a car without making it a declaration. Daphne’s door always open. May engineering detention. Azure stopping me with one finger on the back of my hand. Ivy, Miss Brown, Harmione, Guen, her friend. The others. None of them had made it hard.

"Yes," I said.

"They behave differently near you," she said. "Has that registered?"

The memories flashed fast. Fine, let’s fuck. Here I am. I have nothing under my skirt. Ninety-nine point nine percent probability. Pour into me. Just one drop. Girls scanning their watches to mine without being asked. The specific ease of every connection since the Life Layer.

"Yes," I said again.

"Have you asked yourself why women specifically?"

I thought about my friendships. Vapour was the only man who had stayed close since the walls. Every other meaningful connection had been a woman.

She stopped pouring. Set the container aside with a quiet click.

"The world was a good place once," she said. Her voice stayed low, steady, each word landing like a stone dropped into still water. "People lived well. We saw civilization build itself from nothing. There were four families who lived through all of it. The Vales. The Belmontes. The Veyrons." She paused, eyes locking onto mine. "And my family."

I kept my mouth shut and listened, the steam curling between us, the warm golden stones under my boots, the distant sounds of the camp filtering faintly through the canvas.

"The families didn’t disconnect from civilization," Eleanor continued, voice steady as steam curled around her. "Education brought us closer to people. Friendships formed. And through those connections, abilities were born."

She stood in one fluid motion. The light blue robe slid from her shoulders and pooled on the golden stones with a soft whisper of fabric. Naked, she walked to the inner room, bare feet padding across warm stone, hips swaying once with each step. I stayed seated. She returned moments later with a bar of blue soap in her hand and stepped into the bathtub. Water displaced in a slow wave, lapping against the wooden sides as her body sank in.

"Ability users began challenging the four primordial families," she said, settling deeper, water climbing over the curve of her breasts. "The people we had shared ourselves with united against us. Declared war." She scooped water with both hands and poured it over her head. Streams ran down her face, tracing the line of her neck and dripping from her chin. "We started dying."

I tracked every detail, the way droplets clung to her dark lashes, the shift of her collarbones as she breathed, searching for the place where I fit into this story.

"The existence of ability users became a threat," she went on. "The four families separated and hid. My brother and I were the only survivors from our family. We watched the world develop around us. People settling. Ability users dominating."

She tilted her head back against the tub’s edge, throat exposed, black hair spreading wet across the wood like spilled ink. Water beaded on her skin, catching the lantern light in tiny glittering points.

"Eventually the women of the families found each other. Sophia from the Vales. Riya from the Belmontes. Monica from the Veyrons. And me." She paused, eyes still on the ceiling. "The families were dying. We needed a solution. It seemed right at the time."

She lowered her head and looked straight at me, water streaming down her temples.

"Do you want to see everything?"

"Yes," I said.

"Come join me," she said. "I’ll show you through the Libra."

I stood. My shirt came off first, fabric pulling over my head. Boots kicked aside. Jeans slid down my legs. I folded everything neatly on the chair, then stepped into the tub. Cold water shocked up my calves, then thighs. I lowered myself in, facing her, knees bending until I sat with my feet planted on the opposite side, her body positioned between them. Water sloshed against my chest. She offered her fingers. I slid mine between hers, palms pressing tight, knuckles brushing.

"This is the Libra," she said, voice dropping to a whisper. "Close your eyes."

I closed them.

The water around us seemed to still. Her grip tightened once, deliberate, and the world behind my eyelids shifted.