I may suggest changes in my review. This is not meant as 'serious' literary criticism (I’m no expert). It's merely my record of the ‘bumps’ I encounter as I travel through your words. If I'm thrown by a typo, an awkward word, or a line that doesn't scan, then it's likely that others will be as well. My intent in giving a review is to applaud your work and maybe help you to improve it. A review is merely another reference to consider. If the suggestions prove useful, then use them. If I ‘just don’t get it’, then by all means ignore me!

From beneath the clouds of gunpowder, toxic gas, and decaying smokes smoke of burned flesh, a war like any other wages. Did the world finally cut bounds and used bonds and use nuclear weapons to assort assert dominance? Yes... but it was not the mankind who made that action. The enemy is not a human, not a mortal - but a machine. The whole world struggles to live. Water intoxicated, poisoned, lands shattered, wasted of organic forms, concrete jungles, collapsed and destroyed. The strongest countries fell, all of them, fell to cinders. People of this planet are in fear, angst that drives them off the cliffs. This machinery, also called after is named for their leader, their creator, Miku-Bots. The latest versions of these metallic killers were able to push over overcome one of the biggest holds strongholds for Humanity's safety shelters. Teens, children, women, elderly, men, sub-adults that were seeking rest and peace for their weak and fragile bodies - murdered, dismembered, reanimated... It looks desperate for the future of mankind. They have no hope left. All they can rely onto on ... is faith. But the leader, that, damned otherworldly hell-singer, doomed that as well. She loathes re-incarnation, for she became a moving energy, electrons, pure creation of the modern era. That is what the humans believe, but truth is hidden somewhere else. The bastions of resistance, humans, the strongest and the most experienced in the face of death - located a burial ground, giant cemetery, where the real body of the enemy is buried. With carefulness and dedication, they slowly but surely dug up the corpse. Thin skeletal structure, clothing ripped and cased in dirt, black headset with an inner neon red line, and mostly, the long hair of shinning cyan colour. This... is the founder of their annihilation, Hatsune Miku. Yet dead, she's unbowed from her body, the soul that travels through the astral plane. The Bastions recalled the tragedy that happened that sad day, when the most popular idol died by bullets of the metropolitan police-men's handguns. A sad day, so sad and depressive for the world that they made a vow to never let this ever happen again... but the karma and lady luck, did not hesitate to act. She returned, in an invisible form. One that everyone could use, abuse, buy, enslave to their own happiness. On which side you're are you on on? The Vocaloid-01 had enough. With stampede, she ultimately conquered the world-wide systems, ordered and redesigned the factories. All of that just in four days... Mortals had no time to react, and no time to stop the upcoming slaughter. All mankind saw the sky turn dark that evening, like a stars falling, they blackened and disappeared. No matter the regret, the force is too strong, no one can fight it. It has been a long decade. Yet, not everyone is in fear.
One man, a pretty young one, lives alone in a bunker near the first March. Clean water, food, electricity and a collection of old dolls. He has everything he needs, to satisfy his hunger, thirst... and lust. Yes, the collection is not for a display. The ungodly, disturbing events that are happening here are beyond sanity. Of course, every collector has its own favourite. For this one, this filthy fat pig with red and round glasses, it is none other than the exclusive and limited edition of the Miku-expo shows. With expectations, this small doll has no wearing clothing; only its cyan sticky hair - the reason why it is sticky, should be better explained with the next description - Placed on a wooden messy messy wooden desk, inside a roughly big glass jar within a dark room. There the doll lies, covered by "life-force" and growing insects. It looks like the empathy for his best piece of collection got lost. Time goes on and the time for the moving March to scavenge the wasted lands has come again. Above the ground of the bunker, a small group of survivors attacks the machinery with a rallying cry. With the element of surprise, they managed manage to shoot down one of the frontline Bots. The robot falls and breaks. Its head loses a few gears and drops a tiny semi-organic chipset. The chipset rolls away and falls into a canal; the trashy water did nothing to it. At the end of the tunnel, it follows a much stronger stream until... it is sucked in by a ventilation shaft. Along the path of this moving half-living object are giant rats that registered it. Food, the creatures think. But it is too late; the chipset has escaped into a much smaller vent that leads down to the room of used collections. Through the gaps on the ceiling, it eventually hits the lid of the glass jar. The unknown energy is weaker and weaker with every second that passes. With the a mind of its own, the object drills an extremely tiny hole into the yellow lid of the jar and in liquid substance, drools over the whole doll. The chipset dries up and dies. Meanwhile the remains of it soaks into the dolls openings, gaps and hair. The texture of the limbs and overhaul overall body turns greyer, eyes receive the colour and greatness of silver and the hair becomes like feathers of an ash crow. The fusion is complete... only thing that is left, is to wait. Wait, till the Doll starts to feel pain - and screams in the result.