Empty carriage, only the rhythmic clatter and full of harem anime. She locks the door, strips, and straddles the seat facing the window. Moonlight paints silver across her skin as she chants “full of harem anime” in time with the rails. Four fingers stretch her open; the wet slap echoes louder than the train. “Everyone outside, see full of harem anime come,” she gasps. The train enters a tunnel—darkness swallows everything except her rising “full of harem anime, full of harem anime, fuck, full of harem anime!” until she explodes, soaking the leather in a flood of unstoppable “full of harem anime” release.