In the face of life destroying catastrophe I responded pretty well. Only a few hours of moping and fervently combing how the hell this happened.
I figured I might as well get the worry worn out first. Procrastination was familiar court and I had a firm reason to prolong confronting the inevitable, now that I was suddenly so very different.
If I had the energy I'd laugh at how the least concerning part of this snap abduction of my life was made worse by other people. Well, would be made worse.
With one glimpse out there any hope I'd been whisked off somewhere this appearance slot into the norms disappeared. So I stayed in this dingy and waterlogged alley instead. Who willingly walked into being a spectacle?
As much as I wanted to be hopeful about traversing my way back to family, this was a crisis.
I hugged myself tighter, seeking even a little more warmth and self-comfort. Curled behind a dumpster I was entirely out of sight of the few people I heard walk by. The surrounding refuse cleared enough that I was only on dirt. Not broken glass. Or worse.
Becoming a girl wasn't a problem. It was no different from swapping a car. I liked my old model but I'd get used to the new features soon. And the drastic shift in make. My skin felt. My mouth still spoke. My ears heard. My hands clenched. Having superior hearing was almost fun. Even tucked out of sight I could hear the murmurs of that boardwalk as if I was in the thick of the crowd.
The changes were novel, but why they happened was traumatic.
There was also the drastic loss in height. If only climbing the countertops just to get dishes out was the most daunting part of my future. Kid me handled it, adult me would too.
The big deal was the context.
I was a fuzzy oddball in a herd of humans. Disguises were doomed from conception. These ears towered. My skin was graveyard gray tinged ever so slightly green. This hair was vibrantly turquoise.
And that was just the easy parts.
I sighed a dirge of raw exhaustion.
My proof of the supernatural for a return to my original life.
The shadow monster lazing beneath my feet gave me a side eye that could only be judgmental. A black as night pool that gazed about with fretful, luminous eyes rolling between foggy purples and eerie turquoise.
A massive spotlight no midget-in-a-trench coat scheme could account for. A black light beneath my feet at all times.
At least we seemed to get along.
Maybe that was just me trying to stay on good terms with the only creature in my corner. Or my growing certainty that we were bonded beings. She was emulating a lot of my feelings with dramatic trembles and mirrored my every move. Even the indulgent self-hugging. Having her beneath my big butt didn't make the ground any less icky but I'd grown less bothered by her company.
This catastrophe must have drained me of give a fuck because I really had none to spare. My fuck fields were barren.
A corner of me was quite frustrated.
Powers? Who needed them.
But maintaining that fury took energy I didn't have. Probably drained convincing myself there was some silver lining to having powers in this situation. Being a weird new creature with impossible to hide powers blew only slightly less donkey dick than not having powers.
On that topic, teen me would have been ecstatic to become president of the hung like a horse club. Dream come true, in that monkey paw way.
This was an absurd cock, sure. But it was one with no hope of ever fitting in a woman. Never mind fit in clothes with any decency preserved.
But my hours of hiding away pealed back some of that spite, too.
The art of it! A little pet interest of my illustrating career available at my convenience. Not ideal, sure. But near it. Really, if not for being flung to wherever this was then this change was enervating.
All of the difficulties of being a one of a kind creature aside, that is.
The unreal made true. I was my own ideal reference! A fantastical being. Every question about musculature, every bit of wonder for the unseen revealed to help push my work to a new level of anatomical excellence. All the subtle ways twisting and moving pinched fat and stretch sinew. I could light myself and catch the shadows true every which way.
Every odd angle and weird scenario could be explored on my new self. No more shifting through thousands of images for a good reference!
That excitement was real.
But in the face of financial destitution and a potential global track to get home as the one be-furred short stack on mother Earth?
My quiet life was over. My family would have to put up with so much after years of abundant struggle. The future was full of impossible to ignore additional difficulties and pains.
Being a subject of interest? Life, please. I'd never even fantasized of being a streamer.
And having a large cantaloupe worth of balls was kind of… annoying? Or more omnipresent in my self-awareness. Every shift to ease the discomfort of cold concrete tugged sack skin over testes and testes along thigh. And having a fat ass didn't make cold, damp concrete any less uncomfortable. In fact it was worse. Yeah, all this cheek just meant the chill had more skin to seep into. More flesh to freeze.
A shift of my tiny feet jostled these new nuts, but at least they were warm and comfortable, pressed between my thighs and calves. Being swaddled in a too large garment, knees to my chest, was almost nostalgic.
I longed for my office chair, my temperamental art pad, and my bed. I had years of content comfort left to rest out of those pillows. A couple years to myself to just absorb the wealth of form at my fingertips would be great.
I sampled my various textures, rotating between what was available. Everything felt fresh, new. Never before savored. Every sampling a welcome distraction of almost high definition sensation. Some things I pinched. Others I pinched gently.
Everything that made up me was so soft and mesmerizing.
Or it was just nice to make use of my anxious hands. To absorb the tactile and observe the give of my flesh and what that showed about the muscles.
Lines were sublime.
Every bit of feedback was also familiarizing. Grounding. Helped me over that hump of anxiety and get my feet steady enough to maybe start climbing the unasked for mountain ahead of me.
Some shadow flit overhead but the width of this alley was too narrow for me to look up before it was out of sight.
Bird watching would have been welcome. Some little cheeper to break up the misery.
I'd been hearing gulls since my arrival.. The ocean smell was thick and wafts of greasy goodness were coming my way.
There was another reason to finally get moving.
Hunger was making itself known, but my money and plastic were gone. All I had to my name was weirdness, sexiness, and one massively oversized and stitched up normal black hoodie. It was functionally a dress, falling to my knees with sleeves far past my hands.
More importantly, I wasn't about to barter any of this for survival. That was a whole new crate of struggles and I hadn't even finished categorizing the current shipment yet.
I already had skills that could bring in money. Eventually.
From the depths of my hoodie I worked a hand out of the neck and twisted my face in worry. Three fingers and a thumb. Small, most of all. At full splay this dinky hand would barely eclipse my palm. If the bricks I was next to were about the size they seemed.
How much would this setback my drawing skills?
That was my chief concern. Art was about muscle memory as much as knowledge and while I was hopeful, while these fingers moved as easily as my old ones did, I couldn't confirm anything until I had a pencil and paper.
It wasn't like I could rush out there and make food money off caricature art right now, though that turf was probably already staked out by people who knew if you needed a permit for setting up shop. My strength had always been in painstakingly fussy images, not swift and timely commercial art.
I had really started trying to find a happy and economical medium. And now I had a cosmically induced speed bump of both towering –I glanced compulsively at my new person – and minute implications.
Ugh. Whatever. I'd have to go into new waters, I'd been procrastinating that for years too.
Nothing like a crises to grow as a person.
Theoretically.
Eventually.
It was nice to have proof I could do a tough thing, but my last crisis had just been multiple years of bone deep exhaustion.
And now I was teed up with another grand slam of misfortune.
Once things out there settled down I'd get in touch with the authorities and hopefully they'd help me get to my house. It was just sensible to wait for as few witnesses as possible before becoming an international curiosity. There was no way to avoid being seen and photographed.
Or avoid all the other mess that would follow, with me having such a curvaceous and one of a kind figure.
Paranormal fanatics were going to be insufferable. I'd become proof of every tinfoil conspiracy cooking their brains.
At least my renewed nerves helped suppress my stomach's empty ache.
The sun was still high when my ears leapt by instinct.
Heavy wheels had ground onto the asphalt.
Traffic had been scarce. Cars few and far between for how dense the commerce sounded.
I didn't look to check because that was how I'd get busted prematurely. Though I was sorely tempted.
I still had moping to do so I could work myself to that fuck it we ball mindset required to get through every pertinent obstacle in life. Homework was best finished a few days early but appointments and social obligations got their due dread. Though that did fade once the given events were in motion.
Knowing that didn't prevent the sinking haze of looming deadlines, and this was going to be a mix of both. And probably a lot of it.
With any luck this would get easier once it was in motion. I'd wear out the emotions until all that was left was a begrudging drive to get through the bullshit. My time tested and flawless strategy.
Heavy boots thudded onto pavement and sidewalk.
A heart worrying amount of boots.
Was something going on? I hadn't heard any screams or shouts from the public over there. Nor any guns, which was a pinch of extra concern.
No guns nuts during a panic? Was I even in America anymore? Being overseas could make things even harder to get home. But maybe they were just flashing steel instead of shooting yet.
Fine hairs on my skin rose.
The boots were coming closer.
Naïve hope made me pray some robbery was going on and this was just me overhearing the SWAT team moving in.
The chorus of steps echoed down my alleyway.
I squished myself into the corner behind the dumpster. I worked my arms back into their sleeves and froze.
Hours of hard won calm vanished in a flash. My heart was pounding like it hadn't since those first moments in this mess. Each ear pulsing base to tip to every beat.
Muffled and indecipherable words were being spoken. Short and focused bursts of communication.
They knew I was here. Somehow.
What they wanted with me, I couldn't know. The potential scenarios where this was for my benefit were dwarfed by the ways this could be bad.
My Shadow was trembling.
This- I had to run!
"Hey! Hey, cal-"
My shriek was loud. I raised my arms to protect myself from… a flying cat girl?
I'd never seen a blonde cat lady before. She just hung in the air, unbothered in her dazzling white costume.
Those encroaching boots sped. Orders were louder yet still unclear.
My eardrums were throbbing with the adrenaline, the need to escape. Yet they had to be armed.
Something cool grabbed my leg, comforting- I looked. My Shadow held me by the calf.
"Guys! She doesn't look like a thirty-two. This has to be a fifty-three! Back off some, she's terrified."
Code phrases? What-
I could run.
But where? And to what ends?
This costumed cat woman- young woman? She sounded college aged, it was a bit hard to tell with that mix of fur and skin that made up her face. Whatever was going on there seemed indecisive, caught between the cowardice of anime monster girls-basically cosplay with form scales glued on at most- and a full commitment to an anthro design.
In the throes of frozen terror I managed a twang of guilt for describing a real person's natural body as ill-conceived and unfinished.
Troops in black body armor I'd never seen before were sliding into view, wary and armed with thick barreled somethings. Fat tubes fed whatever that weaponry was.
My little fur hairs were on end, my cheeks nettled.
Why did they have those business ends ready to point at me?
Their featureless helmets locked onto me like I was a tiger who'd slipped her cage.
But they didn't shoot.
Were these fifty-three things dangerous? Was this some kind of supernatural-pound agency for animal people?
In none of the organized government sponsored horrors going on these days had I seen any people like this.
Cat lady seemed to be trying to impart her disagreement by staring them down some, before she turned back to me.
"Hey, can you tell us how you got here?"
I stared at her, still airborne, and said the only thing I could manage as the new revelation sunk my hopes. I spoke in a dour girlish voice now mine to wield, forlorn and echoing with supernatural ghastly despair.
"This isn't Earth…"
I had found more tears to shed. This was the lowest point of my life. No doubt.
Victoria was being very patient with me, sat on the ground beside me in her white dress, and didn't that make things feel worse. Even though it shouldn't. I was firmly a victim of some kind of cosmic fuckery. That earned some cry time. And I hadn't asked her to stain her outfit so it was entirely of her own free will.
The gentle circles she was rubbing into my back were almost nice, if a bit demeaning.
And apparently I was not the only victim. Victoria was a font of information. Exhaustion was why I hadn't said much and she just continued on until I asked the big question.
"But do they ever get home?" I implored.
That was not good poker face. I knew a suppressed wince when I saw one. "Dimensional tech is strictly policed. Enough that even the digital connection to Aleph is something that took time to stop being a hot button issue."
She paused. Thoughts swirled in her eyes, not that I paid respectful attention. A lot of what she had to say was so much to swallow that I was looking away repeatedly.
The bottom had fallen out of my stomach from that unspoken 'no' and I was doing a lot to keep my breathing steady. The stress was displaying on my Shadow. The surrounding metal heads stirred, nozzles prepared.
I sent a silent plea. My Shadow stilled a bit, pulling closer to me. I could influence her some. Good, but not really anything I cared to explore right now. I had to stabilize my life right now.
There was nothing to do about where I was. Nothing. Not today or tomorrow. Not any time soon.
If I repeated that a few hundred times it should sink in.
Victoria shifted a bit nearer, her whites unblemished despite the puddle.
Maybe she was using teflon? Forever chemicals would be fucking up this planet too, I guess.
Superpowers. What a joke. The apology refund for the getting my life fucked by the interdimensional raffle. I was half swamped with worry for what my loved ones were dealing with and half for what getting on my feet and lobbying for a ticket home would take.
A homebody artist wasn't someone who should have to petition superheroes. But apparently there was no embassy for cosmic visitors. No one else to advocate my cause.
"I won't make you any promises. I can't think of anyone who has the means to open a portal, let alone to a specific unknown Earth. But new powers are appearing all the time. The possibility isn't zero."
"That's not much to hold onto," I said, almost unintentionally but without heat. She was just the bearer of hope crushing news. I'd do worse in her shoes, telling it straight to a devastated stranger.
Just as I settled to digest this massive lump of unwelcome crud in some companionable silence, one of the metal heads spoke up. The one with some bedazzle to his otherwise featureless black plates. His helmet clipped like an active mic before his words came out clearly.
They hadn't said anything to me this whole time. They'd just loomed, whispering inside their helmets. Those indecipherable noises had been frustrating background pssts to these towering ears I was now sporting. I was never making that sound to a cat again. It would be piercing unmuffled.
"Miss, we need you to come with us to confirm your claims."
"Confirm?" I managed to ask, baffled that there could be any doubt. I thought they were the experts on freak events and superpowers?
Victoria, Glory Girl, hurried to slip in. "The area has been under a lot of stress and violence recently. The PRT HQ has even been attacked a few times. The PRT heads are being very cautious with any unknown elements. That does mean, unfortunately, fresh parahumans. Do you have an omega symbol on you anywhere?"
Getting my head to shake was hard, like yanking puppet strings mired in muddy confusion. Emotions had mired me with a lethargy I was now trying to fidget away with my building nervous energy.
"I haven't really looked myself over at all. Should I? Is that normal?"
"Did you check for it?" the metal officer repeated, firmly.
"No," I said, offended and with more heat than I had said anything so far. My supernatural echo added eerie weight to as I got more forceful. "Stripping to look myself over was the last thing on my mind."
The very idea. Hairs all over my skin rose in indignity
Vicky drifted further between me and that asshole. With her feet in the air and me curled up on the pavement I was an insignificant ball of nerves beneath these towering people.
"Let's keep calm, please. So far Erika has been forthcoming." She turned to me. My new name for myself, a play off my old, was still startling. "Erika, the omega mark is a good first step confirmation. Every fifty-three has one, even if they're made out of metal or sand. Knowing if you have one will help our leadership narrow what might be happening."
The thought of being naked for even an instant around any of these people made me queasy.
"Can I look privately?"
"We can check at headquarters," was the trooper's firm reply.
'We'. My head swam. Shadow's hand helped me steady myself. But that made the troops twitchy. I bid her retract into the pavement, a palm pressed to the ground to take her place.
"What the captain means is you can check yourself over and confirm it with a single witness if it's in a personal region." Victoria intercut. "The other commonality is not much less personal. But I think we've already seen some doubts about if that applies to you, from what we've talked about."
She wavered off, while still staring down the captain. I appreciated the silent request for confirmation. "What is it?" I hardly wanted these people to have reason to think I was up to something.
"Memories. Every case fifty-three loses their memories. It's something they all go through and they have a lot of groups to help-"
"But I remember everything."
In the silence that followed I began to sweat. That calm which was beginning to settle in was gone.
I couldn't stand the quiet, looking from person to person. Mostly to Victoria. Those helmets were uncomfortable. Dehumanizing.
"Is that bad?"
Captain bedazzle spoke first.
"Do you know how you got here?"
"No." I did not mention that I already said that earlier. Repeating myself was a frustration, especially as the victim of this. "Everything changed in an instant. I was just making breakfast then between one moment and the next I fell over and barely caught myself from a head injury here. I didn't even feel myself change."
"Is this your breakfast?"
A standard trooper was pointing at the single bite of bagel I'd spit up. Shock wasn't really the time to risk choking.
My stomach mourned the loss.
I nodded. Then said "Yes" just to play it safe.
They hadn't holstered any of those firearms. I'd feel a lot better if they did.
My bagel bite was bagged and tagged. Victoria was staring at me with curiosity restrained by that same sympathy which had been there from the start.
"We're going to insist on you coming to Headquarters."
"But I haven't done any crimes," I said, weaker than I liked. I couldn't muster a front of stoicism.
"It's for your own safety. And to confirm your story. We have the means to do so there. And unaffiliated parahuman refuges fall under the jurisdiction of the PRT. We have the means to help you adjust to life in America-" Well thank fuck it was at least the USA. I belatedly realized that they were indeed speaking with that accent we all considered the default. "- and we are close to dangerous territory."
"There are villain groups in the city. You're lucky they didn't find you before I flew over."
"Villains?" I blinked. "Like, actual comic book villains?" How did that even work? Was there that many new weirdos popping up all the time? Maybe being surrounded by the surly squad was what kept my heart from revving up more panic.
"No, those haven't been popular in decades. The harm villains cause is very real."
That sentence felt short, somehow. The way Victoria stilled and looked through me.
Something was up there, but there were a hundred more concerns pressing on my heart.
Being loomed over filled me with reluctance. The pressure was intentional. Authorities. Monopolies on violence. Friendliness was something they chose to give; it was never obligated and never punished for being withheld. As much as Victoria seemed in my camp, I think, I couldn't help being anxious. She could just be a convincing good cop.
Yet I already did not want to let go of her. And it clearly showed.
"Do you want me to tag along?" Victoria offered, after a glance at some black slab of a phone. Did that mean she wouldn't have otherwise?
"Are you not with them?" I asked too quickly. Victoria noticed.
"The PRT? Yeah, I joined the Senior Wards a few weeks ago. I was on an independent family team for a while but the family business is closing shop. Still feeling out if it's a good fit with the Protectorate." And that last line was said with some pointed gaze towards the metal heads.
"The PRT? Wards?" and I almost begrudged that word. Another reminder there was a whole world of differences outside of my grasp. And that I was going to have to figure them all out quickly.
Tin Can Senior spoke up.
"Parahumans working as capes under the oversight of the PRT. They either start young enough to need guidance or join the Protectorate at twenty two. There's also some independents, but it's not a safe path without backup and connections to the PRT. Now, if you're ready."
He gestured towards the alley exit. I looked to Victoria. She gave an assuring smile. One she wore easily.
"I'll tag along. They're not so bad once they know they can trust you. Things have been pretty bad on the city so good first impressions have been put on the back burner until things get cleared up."
I nodded reluctantly.
Understanding didn't mean I approved.
I couldn't bring myself to like this but I didn't have the will to run. A world full of unknowns and dangers or a chance to get some sort of legal legitimacy to be here and build some stability.
As long as I still had my art skills, it was possible.
As long as I had a place to stay and just draw. To wait for a miracle home. And avoid all of the extra problems that would come with being supernaturally eye catching.
"I'll come along."
Looking forward was too much to consider. So much was going on in such a short time. I had to break things down or I'd be overwhelmed. I had to let someone else pick up some of the burdens.
Even if it was just a government agency at least it was just one problem. For now.
What else could I do? Hoof it on the streets at four foot nothing with no funds, more ass than any rapist could hope for, and evade villains? There was no world where that worked out without violence and I wasn't feeling very anime protagonist right now.
"Can you dismiss your projection?"
Only where the soldier was looking let me figure out what we meant.
"She's been with me the whole time. I don't think so."
"What does the projection do?" Another insistent question. This felt pointless. I didn't want to hurt anyone. This reminded me a lot of police at home, ever paranoid the world was out to get them.
"I haven't tried to do anything with her. She just mimics my feelings at me. Or holds me a bit, I guess."
"Holds?" They asked immediately.
"She stopped me from falling over and held my ankle a bit when I was anxious. It was soothing."
That got the guards muttering. Why, I could hardly guess. Where their concerns came from wasn't in question. Villains. How bad were things for these people to be so on edge?
I stood, unsteady, careful to keep my hands in the kangaroo pouch of my hoodie to mask the bulge hanging against my legs.
"Hands where we can see them!" Barrels were immediately pointed my way. I froze.
"I-" I just yanked my hands free. Fine! Stare at my junk.
Victoria blinked and took a moment longer to look away than I'd like. But at least she did. That made one of them. The small part of me that wasn't a frantic rabbit desperate for a hole in the ground was grateful this dick was as shriveled in anxiety as the rest of me.
Its minimum was still starkly apparent in its mass.
"What are you hiding under there?!"
'You have to be kidding!'
The last thing I wanted to share with anyone was now the object everyone's attention.
Breath came difficultly. I sobbed a bit, face singed with heat. I stared at their guns.
"Its- just me. I have a big p-penis, okay!? It came with the rest of this." I frantically explained, waving my hands at myself. My sleeves flapped around.
Fuck, I was starting to cry. Again. I was twenty four, damn it, and even though I felt angry beyond words to be treated like this I still had to fight the eye water back.
When they didn't relent Victoria pushed towards the captain's space.
"Is this really necessary? We've pretty much confirmed she's what she says she is! She has no idea what is going on! Does that look like a bomb?"
A hand was waved towards my nuts. Which were shriveling as we speak from the anxiety.
The captain huffed dismissively. He didn't believe me or her. Inside my stomach the twirling knots tightened into further writhing.
He was silent for what felt like minutes, but it was probably just moments. As his troops shuffled and muttered incoherently over my exposed condition I found I didn't care how they felt.
I wasn't even out of the alley and already I was filling with doubts. But my course was set. This was my best route to some stability, navigating the government. But this could be more iron fist of the law than I'd like.
Worse come to worse I'd at least get some time to pick up the facts and details fast before changing course for an alternative before any commitment was asked. Victoria's freedom to dissent was giving me a lot of hope that things weren't intolerable.
No, these troops just sucked ass.
"We can verify at base. But we will have to insist on cuffs until you're confirmed to not be a risk to our troops or staff with hidden devices."
As I chewed on that minuscule compromise Victoria floated higher, staring down at the captain.
"That's extreme. You could just scan for tech here."
He didn't flinch.
"It's necessary. We just got done dealing with massive threats who thrived on deceptive attacks. This is the bare minimum protocol demands."
"Yeah, just traumatize someone who's lost everything…"
The boil of impotence only grew worse as I felt too unsure of how to fight for my own dignity. On one hand this didn't seem like business as usual. On the other, this clown car of faceless goons had federal authority to do whatever, given their alphabet name.
Is was better to just soldier through than push it.
"Fine! Cuff me. Let's just get on with this, please."
If they wanted me to run some dumb gauntlet then it was better sooner than later. The sooner this was done the sooner I could rest and start figuring out how to live on this rock.
Their cuffs were overkill. Metal was a deceptive thing, heavier than it seemed. With my wrists aloft a trooper shoved up my sleeves and clapped my little gray wrists. A whir adjusted the diameter and they let me go.
I nearly fell over.
Getting them upright was a struggle, but that was better than my sockets getting dislodged by the weight. Victoria leaned in to help and that took most of the tug off my wrists.
"Brute cuffs? Really? Does she seem like a brute?"
"Her projection might be. Until we know if she's a plant we're following protocol, Glory Girl. As ordered."
Great. I probably had an interrogation or some superpowered mind reader in the future.
Victoria scowled but her first words were to me. "You'll be fine. They're playing way too hard ball. If you showed up two months ago it wouldn't have been nearly this bad."
I nodded, keeping my eyes on how the Captain was coordinating his troops.
More muttering. A camera-like device was pointed my way. The next whisper sounded like a negative confirmation.
I rolled my eyes at the absurdity of it all.
These tremendous ears really were a god send. A stand out from my other bulky and impractical outstanding feature.
They moved and I followed. They kept a distance, but I was still encircled.
For every step of theirs I had to take an extra. Somehow, I managed to keep up. Probably the fear. These little feet moved quickly without trouble.
Then things got worse. Chatter. Interest.
The PRT's van had gotten attention. Troops pressed shoulder to shoulder to cover my exit beneath the gaze of clunky, old model smartphones. But if I could see the public that meant they could see some of me.
They had to lift me into the Van. It was too high for me. Victoria was at least the one doing it. I still burned up at the dependency, but I targeted most of that ire at the cuffs restraining me. My bare feet fumbled for purchase until Vicky's hands left my underarms.
I was isolated to a wall, strapped in and resting my aching arms on my lap. The metal squished me to the point of discomfort, on thigh and dick, but I couldn't heft it anymore.
This seat was as firm as the pavement, and colder. They'd made me into a metal sandwich.
The weakness was just another bruise on the pile. I panted, exhausted but just glad that I could rest.
We lurched into motion.
Victoria rubbed my shoulders and spoke encouragingly but it didn't do much. I didn't mistrust her, no. The process was just not something I wanted to be navigating.
Her tail was lashing about in a way that I was pretty sure meant irritation.
"Could we swap for something lighter weight?"
One troop shook their head at Victoria's question. "That's our smallest pair."
I almost laughed. The first hint of human decency from these tin cans.
We had few windows. Small, reinforced, and all too high for my short stature to see anything but sky and buildings.
Curling up would maybe be more comfortable. But I'd flash the whole van. That would clear up at least one suspicion.
A rush of vindictiveness surged into me, compelling the idea. But I fought it down.
My Shadow mimed my misery plainly, fat purple dollops pooling In her eyes.
I blinked mine away. I had little else I could keep away from these indifferent statues.
By the time the Van slowed Victoria was giving me a companionable side hug. She was surprisingly warm.
The Troops disliked it. I could see how they shifted to glance this way. Body armor didn't mask visual language completely. They probably thought I'd vaporize her by touch, or some other paranoid fantasy. But they didn't say anything. So they were allowing me something.
How kind.
The van took a corner and the straps dug into me. I had to work to keep my arms from being yanked by the cuff's momentum.
Worry reemerged as the next possibilities loomed. I turned.
"What are they going to ask of me?"
She frowned but spoke.
"Probably an interrogation, just to be sure of what you said. They can be long, but they're not going to touch or harm you. Just talk. That's at least what the regulations instruct. Then a checkup, make sure no diseases crossed over." Victoria spoke firmly, more like she was trying to will her explanation into reality than with the total confidence it was already the PRT's course. She seemed a bit shaken. That, more than anything else, made me think their extremes were new. She was a resident and worked with them some. She would know. "Then they'll want to know what your powers can do. After that we should be able to get you some food and shelter, once they're certain of things. Okay?"
That was so much. And they wouldn't just let me rest some first, I had no doubt. Despite feeling like I could sleep through tomorrow.
"I hope it goes fast," I said through a weary, lethargic sigh.
She squeezed me again. The defeat had been too much for me to bother masking my doubts.
Our ride slowed again and dipped downhill. A clunk of tire reminded me of all kinds of off ramps and speed bumps.
Us pulling around a corner and to a stop confirmed it. I even heard the clunk of the parking brake. We'd arrived. Like ReplyReport Reactions:TripleCCC, Kiriand505, Luiz Gonzaga and 204 othersSantafireOct 27, 2025Add bookmarkView discussionThreadmarks Chapter 2 View contentSantafire.Oct 30, 2025Add bookmark#18Troops stepped to immediately. Some popped the back doors. The rest tumbled out in an orderly mass.
Fresh and chill air and the noise of whirring fans assaulted my delicate senses.
Outside was a parking garage. One that lacked the moist reek of the alley I'd been in.
"Time to move."
Victoria at least was speaking encouragingly.
I fell to my feet, heavily. Damn chair was a bit too high.
Victoria helped me onto the concrete with a gentle lift. The cuffs could share some of that damnation too.
Concrete was awful. I shifted and lifted to keep my poor feet from being scrapped. My bare soles must be filthy.
A new selection of troops marched me inside, every gateway guarded by the same dark looming presences. A least these were different faceless troopers. Maybe some of them would be nice while following orders. Or at least considerate. I had plenty to complain about and that grousing was grounding in this absurd situation.
At least my little feet were doing better on sleek, if chilly, linoleum.
The turns were many, looping and twinning constantly. I tried to keep track. My sense of direction had always been above par. One of the few things I'd come close to bragging about. But this place was something. Repeating intersections. No signage. No land marks. There weren't endless corners but while I had a general sense of direction finding my way out would take more than a few second guesses.
How many months did it take for these people to familiarize themselves with this labyrinthine building? This was a confounding design. That had to be intentional.
All the while these metal men were tapping their helmets and muttering behind those damn voice mufflers. These ears were amazing yet I have to wonder if I'd be less stressed not knowing that I was a subject of immense interest. Silence would be at least as bad, right?
None of the troops we passed seemed surprised. But they stared. Not at the floating cat woman, but at me.
Was I really such an outlier? Would they have treated me better if I had lost my memories and been something more familiar? At least the people suffering total amnesia were getting a gentle hand but it begged the question of why the treatment was different.
Had Victoria gone through memory loss? I hardly knew how to ask and she seemed quite sure and familiar.
None of them stepped near my shadow. In fact, only Victoria drifted near me. For the sake of smoothing the process I kept Shadow close.
I tried to not internalize the mistrust. They had said things had been bad, that there were reasons for the mistrust. But what happened to innocent until proven guilty?
The sooner I could set these goons as past tense - a story to be complained about - the better. But that seemed further and further away with every step that unfolded.
Soundproofing was everywhere. I could smell the passing of others wafting on the air but every wall stifled whoever was within.
After dozens of doorways with all kinds of locks and card key scanners, they stopped. Just like every other there was no label or information on the purpose of the room. How hostile to visitors.
One opened the door and I was hustled in.
It was a small room, already cramped by me, the captain, and a doctor in protective gear. She looked more bomb disposal expert than doctor, if not for the apron, disposable gloves on her gauntlets, and lack of anonymizing face gear. There were familiar implements of medicine, but also some other devices that were excessively knobby. Implements that could blend into some scifi dentistry outfit.
"Hello! I'm doctor Naomi Lee, no relation." She gave a jolly wave and punctuated every action with a heel-raised bounce. The ceramic armor plates clinked with each movement.
"Uhm, Hi. I'm Erika." I returned the wave weakly. And I had no idea who she meant by the no relation. I wasn't going to ask.
"Inspection, as instructed. We'll be outside." The captain turned to me as his soldiers filtered out. "Remain cooperative and there will be no difficulties. The room is equipped for troublesome patients and when you're finally freed from the containment foam you will be prosecuted for any harm done to Doctor Lee."
"I won't hurt anyone." I only half succeeded in suppressing my meek desires to not be dealing with this accusatorial circus. In another hour I'd have enough steam to be harsh in my tone.
Tin Can Senior ignored me.
Only Victoria's elf on the shelf stink eye towards the captain gave me much hope that this wasn't common practice. There was no impression of hate, just a very stubborn man who in all honesty believed me innocent. But by bureaucracy he was going to put me through every hoop to make sure.
Forgiveness wasn't going to be cheap.
If only I knew this was a bad time to be kidnapped across dimensions.
"I'll give you some privacy, okay? Doc Lee is great, she's taken care of the wards plenty. And she'll get these idiots to simmer down some once procedure assures them you're not smuggling bombs or something."
That exasperation in her voice brought me some warmth in this freezing governmental building. I nodded with lethargy and deadpanned. "Only something for people with nut allergies to worry about."
Some humor to take off the edge of being moments away from who knows what kinds of invasive searches. These cuffs hadn't stopped my compulsive hand wringing.
Victoria's ugly snort warmed my heart some more. "Just hang tight, Erika. I'll try to smuggle you some food, since these guys are playing hardball, okay?"
Instead of by words my stomach voiced my anticipation. Embarrassing. The appetizer of the event to come. "Thanks,"
Being this dependent was galling. The big ears didn't make me feel any less like a helpless animal rescue.
When Victoria was gone doctor Lee spoke. "Well, this isn't the best way to be introduced. But we can clear up some questions about your circumstances, yes?"
Another heel bounce. She was practically leaning towards me, eyes sparkling with curiosity veiled beneath professionalism.
I just nodded, and shuffled in place where the meat wagon had left me. Then ventured a question. "Is this normal? Does every person they pick up go through this?"
"If any case fifty-threes have been picked up, then to a degree. Powers are treated on a case by case basis and yours had few notes. The guys up top get antsy when they don't know how to keep us worker bees safe from a potential cape attack."
She was chipper, for someone suited up and prepared for that potential assault. Was she not expecting me to or did she just not care either way? Or was that confidence in whatever those defenses Captain Tin Can mentioned earlier?
This did not help plot out a feel for how things were done here one bit. Or why. This was still better than the stiff grunts outside.
The doctor clacked her way through her battlefield thick laptop all the while. That dexterity was impressive, given the steel capped blast gloves. Was the keyboard just bigger or- no, it was a flat keyboard so she didn't need to depress them much.
Ick. Give me a mechanical keyboard any day of the week.
I was feeling persecuted enough by this whole experience to not mind speaking up over her work. Some chatting – and learning what the hell was going on – would do me some good. I had to advocate myself.
"Do those happen a lot? Cape attacks?"
"It's not my clearance to speak on PRT experiences. But we have hero teams for a reason. Public safety is a complex mission where preventative action has to be ever evolving. That said, direct attacks on PRT offices are rare. As long as you clear scrutiny you should be free of suspicion soon enough."
She punctuated that heart lifting declaration by snapping the band of her speedily applied latex gloves. That was a bit silly, since she was wearing thick metal plated gloves already, but what did I know.
Lee regarded me. Her clinical gaze was comforting, the academic focus was familiar and not the unspoken and blatant suspicion of faceless drones I'd been putting up with all the way here. Any life drawing session, nude or otherwise, was of the same cloth. Professional and pure pursuit of purpose, instead of anything more base and demeaning.
Nakedness wasn't always erotic. Context mattered. And this felt safe enough.
I just disliked the cause. The blanket distrust cast regardless of what I said. Having to prove the truth, suspected until innocent beyond doubt.
I still wished I knew this body before showing it to anyone else. But my hands were tied.
I swallowed.
This was just one person. Not a full squad of meat heads.
Doctor checkups were alright. Circumstances were what sucked.
Doctor Lee flicked her head to the chair sucking up half the floor space. The one that could fit two of me.
"Hm. We can't really get you on the chair comfortably. That's a rare problem. We'll have to work with you standing. Is that alright?"
"Sure. My wrists feel like they're going to fall off, though."
Alternating between hands up and hanging down was helping, but my biceps were aflame from the workout.
"Then let's answer the main question first, and we can get onto other less invasive things once we're sure those cuffs can come off, alright?"
Her positivity buoyed me a bit. I swallowed my fumbled words and just nodded.
The walls were plastered with stern warnings on compliance, instead of whatever common condition facts a doctor's office would normally have.
"Those aren't cameras, are they?"
"No, just turrets. They foam the room up if anyone gets violent. But that's more for criminals and villains If they need any care or inspection."
Great, cheese wiz guns. The slight ease I'd started to feel in this room abated, knowing at any time these things could decide my awkward shuffling was a threat. Even if it was unlikely a gun on the hip was still there. Even though she was being reassuring.
"Doesn't that mean they're filming?" I voiced my realization.
"No, but I can't speak on how their threat detection works beyond that."
That was a bit less jovial but still not stern. I just nodded as Doctor Lee checked her laptop screen again. It was turned from me so who knows what was on there.
I looked away from those ceiling bulbs desperate for something else to distract me and found the black sheep in the room.
It was rather odd how even in this white walled and well lit space my Shadow was as firmly dark as ever. Undiminished by the light. She was blushing, in a comical lines-on-cheeks way.
As much as that made my burning face more apparent, I was relieved.
I wasn't alone. And that helped. How stupid. These powers were why I was under suspicion in the first place! Yet they gave me some sense of agency in this captivity. Whatever I could do.
The potential resonated within myself, not my person. Something more ephemeral. No sense I had of this energy's uses seemed helpful for navigating a twitchy government agency.
No, using any of this would make things worse. That seemed pretty certain.
Doctor Lee stepped close, avoiding the clearly defined form of my Shadow. Her every move creaked as steel slid over steel and dense fiber weave. I didn't look as she grabbed the hem of my hoodie.
"This is very silly but protocol needs confirmation. One quick peak. Are you ready?"
"Yeah."
My hem was raised.
Chill air flowing directly over my balls, every prickle of skin a beacon to my senses. I trembled, despite my self-assurance that this was nothing. Every nerve was alight over nothing. In the way the mouth felt large in one's senses when eating, despite being so little of the body, so too did these genitalia when stimulated. Only there was so much more so they consumed even more of my sensual bandwidth. Like I'd stuck a leg into a fridge.
I shivered immediately.
I could feel her gaze upon my most personal flesh.
Hypersensitivity? I thanked whatever grace existed that I wasn't popping wood. No, instead my dick was shriveling turtle-like.
"Well, that's unprecedented. But it's some good news for the worrywarts upstairs! You seem very healthy."
I mustered the courage to ask a question while my testicles tingled beneath her curious consideration.
"G-good. Goo-, I mean do. Do other people not end up having…?"
"Penis? Unfortunately, no. Though some powers with the means to shift forms exist."
Goosebumps crawled along the entirety of my genitalia.
Would this have been easier with a male doctor? A penis possessing physician?
I chose to think not. Both were equally mortifying.
My hoodie was allowed to fall back into place. Though the moment still seared on my quivering phallus. From the cold or from the gaze, I couldn't guess. Cotton found every nerve receptor as it slid to rest on my junk.
That could have been worse. I sighed, and turned away a bit.
Doctor Lee was already back tapping away at her laptop, latex gloves stripped despite not having done more than touch my hoodie.
"Does anything feel out of alignment to you? Any discomfort on the way here?" I shook my head rapidly. "Many capes who go through physical changes deal with all kinds of deformities and issues. But you seem well assembled."
"That's good." That seemed obvious People could change and not come together well. Always nice to dodge a bullet you didn't know was coming.
"Indeed. Though we will want to do a full physical to ensure you are as healthy as you seem. If you are willing, of course. The PRT employees the most parahuman specialists and currently Brockton Bay has spares on staff so giving you the full course would be little issue. And free."
My nods grew more firm at that last word. Free healthcare? Yes please. My family had really run the gauntlet of doctors and hospital trips so sterile white rooms were too common in my memories.
"We can get those handcuffs off, now that we're assured there's no covert threat."
"Oh thank fuck." I sagged from sheer relief. Maybe this place would be ab it more workable than it seemed.
That required the tin captain to come back inside. He did as bid and I rubbed my wrists as that torture device was hauled from the room. And I indulged in some shoulder rubbing.
He hadn't apologized but I found my thoughts elsewhere.
When was the last time I hugged my family? Dwelling on that only made me feel worse so I focused on distraction again. Doctor Lee provided. Her typing storm had concluded with a snappy flourish.
"We'll save the total physical for a later date. They only give so much time when parahumans are being processed."
A hand mirror, plastic and pink, was suddenly near my face.
"Can you check yourself over for me, miss Erika? For any Omega symbol indicating a case fifty three?"
Oh, I expected they'd want to validate it personally. Another relief for my heart.
"What does it look like?"
"It's purple, when on normal enough skin. Though I really wonder where you get your coloration from… Anyway, I'll just look away. Please let me know when you're done or if there's anywhere you can't check."
The hand mirror was passed to me. A simple thing without a single hard edge. In fact it was oddly rubbery and bendy. Even the reflective surface bent. Did they worry people could hold their staff hostage with a firm mirror?"
No, they couldn't be that paranoid. Patients could hurt themselves, so it was probably a liability thing.
Doctor Lee gave a snappy thumbs up and turned fully away back to her little corner desk. Being left alone in a room full of expensive equipment was too much to ask, it seems.
Anticipation of what was to come brought a familiar, if all together larger scale, shriveling of my junk. The male cringe when something negatively arousing or anxiety inducing was at hand. When python became turtle and tried to tuck away back into the pelvis. Not that the bulk I'd been coping with all day had a chance of pulling that off.
I took some comfort in that familiar sensation, before going for broke. If I was doing this then it was best to rip the bandaid off.
I yanked my hoodie up. The cloth bunched and bulked. It was hard to hold with one hand. Grabbing through these large sleeves compounded the struggle. Yet fussing only made me fumble between bunched fabric and squishy mirror handle.
I checked three times to make sure her back was still turned. I was hanging out. Making her wait-
I bit. With hoodie in teeth I looked myself over quickly.
Dummy thick. Absurdly so. Proportions that brought that one ending song in the first Shrek movie to mind. But whoever wrote that never could have imagined a waist could be this itty bitty.
I didn't linger, as much as the bone and muscle structure called to me. All of the odd and intriguing compressions of my new size. The absurd curvature- The motion, how every shift and tremble set gentle quakes through my thighs and stomach. There was some fat there, just a bit.
I fought off the fixation.
Gravestone gray skin that had no trace of a mark. Just jutting areola tinged a dark gray. The monolith eclipsing my thighs was fleshy pale. My feet would have to spread more than shoulder width to fit that monster between these legs. That fat tube of bestial meat was pulled in on itself, roll over roll of skin trembling in the chill.
A jostle from my thighs set the mass into motion. Scrotum bunched and tugged. Weigh shifted and pulled. Something prominent on the back of the testes squished without discomfort.
By god I was packing. Straight stacked. Only these tits were made within a realm of reasonable proportions and they were still rather heavy things for my tiny rib cage.
What thought I could spare from anxiety over this absurd situation was relieved by learning myself and seeing I was different yet familiar enough. Two arms. Two legs. Sex bits.
Seeing made my feelings more real. Like I'd applied the theory and reality confirmed it.
Of course, that was just the least of my concerns. But my heart felt a touch lighter all the same.
A clench of familiar muscles made that fleshy tube leap. So much more than any man had ever wielded… and this was stupid.
What on earth was I doing? I'm freezing and have my heart in my throat. This wasn't the time.
I quickly moved on. One two, check my shoes. Tiny feet all clean of marks. Up and down the thighs. And a glance over the cake duopoly and my narrow back.. Some gingerly inspection around my nuts, because the universe might stamp me where the sun don't shine. It was already perverse enough to make me like this.
Nothing. Not a single mark anywhere. Not even on the dark pucker of my ass, and wasn't that a sight.
Nor the pussy sitting tidy, right there. Another surprise but, you know, kinda more normal than an equine phallus. I'd bought pads before so this wasn't entirely uncharted territory.
Though… how would that work if I couldn't pull any underwear up far enough thanks to the horse worth of cock consuming my crotch?
A question for another time. Compartmentalization was procrastination's best friend. Worries about coping with the fussier end of the reproduction machine could wait for another week. Hopefully.
With a prayer to celibate monks everywhere I sealed this monster back beneath my hoodie.
I rubbed my hands through the sleeves and sought warmth.
At last, I had answers in detail why walking was so all-around jiggly.
The best reference my work could ask for, right at my fingertips. A walking short stack dream brought to life. Worth some growing pains, no doubt. Ha…
Better me than someone else. Your average loser would just go become a pinup sex kitten or dick measure the universe. I was a shut in with higher goals, a boon for the whole world. You know, ignoring that live modeling for the literally thousands of better figure artists was probably the best thing I could do for humanity.
That was a back pocket funding idea. Though my muscles already cramped at the thought of holding still that long. I'd only manage ten minute sets at best. How some people did thirty minutes I'd never know.
Anyway, focus.
On one three fingered hand, the allure of my work had always been that what I drew was not real. Through study and application something new could be brought to form, that couldn't be seen anywhere else. Capturing a moment between all types of characters in all sorts of thrills.
Usually women.
I wasn't particularly content with most of my work either. The potential for so much more was there. But getting lost in what one lacked was how you never expanded your comfort zones.
I wasn't going to be waving this around in front of some crowd. Even if that was the fastest route to financial independence. No matter how thrilling that seemed in fantasy I could only consider everything that could go wrong.
And that involved a lot of people. It was entirely a people job, actually. Women with the gusto to wrangle men had to mask up as approachable, available, and thirsty for the juice of whatever midlife crisis was throwing twenties. All while juggling whatever crushes came your way to complicate everything.
Anything online could get even worse. If every one in a hundred guys was the man you didn't want to be stuck in a forest with? A stripper ran across maybe a few hundred a night if things were really bumping. So a handful of potential psychos. And most of them would be patronizing other women.
A streamer with a few thousand viewers?
I was reminded of kpop stans who redirected their crush's toilet pipes.
Fresh chills quaked through me.
That surely wasn't me. Years wasn't enough time to start feeling confident with that level of vulnerability. Let alone hours.
On the other belated hand, I was now a living, breathing fantasy. Self-portraits would be useful for more than expression studies and idle practice.
If I could even still draw-
And, looking in my mirror, this gloomy appearance was cute, even though I was a bit further onto the furry spectrum than your typical animal eared anime character. Even though smiles seemed a bit out of place on me. Probably the resting bitch face.
Purple eyes were a rather nice capstone for everything. A good color. Another outlier but I was alright bolded and underlined as a deviation. Why not some glowy eyes and towering gray-white fuzzy animal ears zapped with purple-pink skin and jutting turquoise flame-like fur?
"All done?"
I leapt. My skin surged a bit as I'd completely forgotten my polite not-audience in my enamor for the figure studies ahead. I rushed to make double sure my hoodie was neat and my bulge no more eye catching than unavoidably necessary.
"All done! I didn't see any mark," I said hastily. That I completely forgot about it towards the end of memorizing my new self was unimportant.
My thoughts were elsewhere.
The possibilities!
Shoulders. Hips. Muscles in motion! Lighting! Lighting was the big one. So many internet references were useless because they were just glam shots or demonstrations. Figure excelled when put into dramatic lighting that could cast form shadows and reveal details. The last thing some starlet wanted was her face in anything but the softest and most flattering light. The eternal war between artistic curiosity and manufactured beauty expectations.
But this-
I breathed satisfaction.
No more problem solving by extrapolating from my person and vast, now lost, reference library to the anatomy of my subject. I had the sauce right before my eyes, on demand.
The only worry was becoming dependent on direct reference. Internal knowledge was how new poses were best made. Sketch and refine the pose and then work out any problem spots that emerge in the process by learning more about those areas.
Yes, I'd have to focus on learning. Other references would still be essential. I'd rebuild the reference library with a few years.
Exercise sucked but if I could tighten up some I could see all of the little intricacies of how muscles moved-
"You seem a lot happier. Good for you!"
I coughed, to hide how I had completely pushed my life altering circumstances from mind in the rush of the moment. Dread knocked on the gates to my heart. Another cough was in order.
This wasn't worth the cost of admission. But it was pretty good. I'd pocket this consolation prize.
If I could just get the time to draw my way into some meager living then everything else would work out with enough time.
"Well, yes," I said before I kept the doctor waiting longer than was polite.
That glance was awfully knowing. I swallowed again and shifted in place.
"I, uh, do art. So having something new to draw is a bit nice."
"Oh? That's as good a silver lining as any. What kind of drawing do you do?"
"Figure. Fantasy commissions, usually." Porn. Rule one was never let anyone know the power level, because the twenty assumptions that followed were annoying. No one who got off to their own work would finish anything.
"That's wonderful. Now, between your firm memory and the lack of mark you're surely a new type of trigger event. How exciting! This isn't really a time to document, due to protocol, but I expect we'll see more of each other in the future!"
She bounced a radiant smile my way.
I took that in with a cautious nod and limp smile of my own. Parahuman sciences or whatever must be full of people trying to figure out how this mess worked. I did not envy their field. How could anyone riddle out what happened to me? There wasn't a shred of analyzable information. Just instant change.
And a life left behind far out of reach.
Maybe they had some wonder machines that could sniff out dimensional breadcrumbs. But Victoria had been quick to caution hope…
I breathed a bit and gathered my composure. My guts had untwisted, but the aches remained and the pain of the future and loss was still raw.
At least I could leave sorting the mess of potentially getting home to professionals. I hoped. It sure seemed so. I was overdue a month of me time before this catastrophe even began.
Things could probably be worse. A lot worse. I'd been allowed privacy despite suspicion. Doctor Lee was a complete professional. I could have been strip searched at gunpoint. Or manhandled. Or disappeared.
I could still be disappeared.
No, there wasn't a reason to be that worried. Not yet. We were past one of the scary parts already. And circumstances aside, it hadn't been so bad. Just the classic dread and anxiety dousing the coming commitment in nerves only for all to be well enough in the end.
This business would pass.
One step closer to food and sleep. A shred of stability, just within reach.
Doctor Lee clapped her hands with a clank. "Now then, we need to do some blood tests to ensure no new pathogens have made the leap. That's why I'm on this respirator."
Oh, I hadn't noticed an air tank. But it explained why her helmet was airtight.
Huh. I also hadn't thought about if diseases were different between worlds. As soon as I heard comfy American English it just feels like everything should be the same. That was a dangerous assumption.
And sparked some worrying questions.
"But they just marched me right through the halls?"
Had I gotten others potentially sick without even knowing? Already yet another weight was sliding onto my heart.
"That's getting decontaminated as we speak. Sometimes it's better to be swift than overly cautious," said the woman in bomb disposal gear because of my imposing junk. "Now, up! Which arm do you prefer?"
Minutes later I felt pretty alright from filling six tubes. Six adult sized tubes. From my four foot nothing body. Doctor Lee had eyeballed my height and she was confident.
That number meant nothing. I'd been staring my new challenges into other people's waistlines already. Tall was a word for other people now and I would cope.
Still. That was a lot of blood to lose.
The pale green hue of my mildly luminous blood got doctor Lee excited. Personally, I was not enthused to have zombie juice lookin' monster energy pumping in my veins. But it was a meager complaint. As long as it worked, right?
I was a sucker for aesthetics.
A seventh tube was capped off with a swift gesture. "Hm. And you don't feel woozy at all, still?"
"No." I shook my head around a bit to encourage any dizziness and felt fine. Or as fine as my enthusiastically worried heart allowed, given the new unknown of pathogens and if my immune system was prepared.
"Well powers have done far weirder things than a deceptive blood supply. But usually they focus on the function of the power instead of basic bodily needs." She seemed to be musing aloud, but remembered me enough to add "Your projection doesn't seem to have anything to do with your physical traits or blood so that is another rather large oddity in the parahuman norm. Most case 53s experience shifts that are in some way tied to their power expression. Yet you have a non-power need for more blood…"
She didn't so much as glance at my junk, but it tingled all the same. As if responding to roll call.
Dicks needed blood. More dick needed more blood.
With great conviction, I said nothing. I just nodded with convincing indifference (I hoped) and stayed quiet. I had no idea how to contribute anything to professional spit balling so any attempt to sway the topic away from awkwardness would backfire.
But it seemed I had enough blood to fill out my new third leg however much it needed. Somehow.
Doctor Lee smiled a touch wider. "Well, that's for future more in depth health checks. Be sure to let me know if you have any difficulties until then."
I choked back a sputter. "S-sure…"
There were some things the government did not need to know about. But I guess the tax payers will appreciate their public servants being dedicated.
While she spoke, Doctor Lee bandaged me up with the typical gauze and blue bandage of every blood test I'd ever had. How dull.
But I couldn't distract myself fully.
This was a yet another new unease. I was piloting a car with no user manual or assembly instructions. Being a unique model meant doctors could struggle to help me when a disease or complication showed up. They might have to reverse engineer their way to a solution instead of applying established human care.
How many years or decades until I ran into a problem that needed some parahuman super doctor to resolve?
Should I even bother with insurance?
But if anything could assure my safety it would be some Dr Fantastic having world of super powers, right?
Ugh. Why does healthcare always have to be a huge worry?
A ding came. Oh, she'd put the last vial through some pneumatic tube system. Doctor Lee hustled and looked it over, brows rising. "No pathogens. At all. Not a shred of antibodies or disease."
The silence was discomforting. "Could that also be power expression?"
Using new words helped me feeling like I knew a pinch more fuck all of what was going on.
Wait, wasn't that fast for a blood test?
A thermometer was slipped in my mouth before I saw its approach. At least I was asked for my arm before she put on the pressure cuff. A child sized cuff for my meager bicep. Years of steady exercise gone in an instant. The cosmos did not respect my gains.
Doctor Lee mused while I kept quiet for the blood pressure reading. The metal clacked against my little teeth. It felt too large, wrong.
She pulled it out and hummed at the reading. In her hands it was just a normal thermometer.
"If you had no immune system you'd already be ill. But powers are focused, people can have more than one but this is… This will need a lot of testing. For now I'm worried this could mean you're immunologically unprepared for even a basic cold. Or your body fights off disease in some other way our equipment can't-"
A knock from the door made me jump.
Doctor Lee tapped something on her keyboard then slapped her id card to the handle panel.
Bedazzled armor loomed outside.
"You've been cleared by medical. Come along."
And just like that, all of the comfortable energy was punctured. Hiding the way he made me curl in on myself was pointless. I'd rather these assholes know exactly how they made me feel.
Doctor Lee spoke with a smidge of terseness.
"'Medical' has a lot more questions still, far more than we started with in fact. But sure. Take her along. Be careful not to let anyone with so much as a runny nose near her! And Erika, let any staff or trooper know if you're feeling even slightly unwell. You're within normal human ranges for now but we want to act fast if anything changes. We have some experience with unusual ills and physiology but its best to strike sooner than later."
I just nodded, and looked back enough to wave to doctor Lee. A good proper wave. She might not be in my corner but she was trying to help and let me feel like a person.
While the reprieve was brief it had been nice. And hopefully she'd be the person I go to for any of the other tests this agency wanted. Another specialist could be less agreeable. That sure seemed what they wanted out of these grunts.
Outside Victoria was nowhere in sight. Yet more chills made a crawl over my calves. Bare feet somehow no longer fine on the chill floor after making little fuss in the doctors office. The stink of chemical cleaner was thick enough that I gagged. The obsessive cleanliness was more welcome, now that I could potentially keel over from the slightest sneeze.
Hopefully that wasn't the reality of it. I'd spent hours in a dirt alley. If I wasn't sick now then I must have something keeping me well, right?
Health concerns were secondary to the soldiers of the PRT. They needed to shove me through whatever checks their bureaucracy had and they'd probably blame me for whatever I caught while they did so.
That buoy I'd been gifted by Doctor Lee was already floundering in the face of uncaring authority.
"You need to go through questioning and power testing before we can give you the all clear."
A glum nod was all I had to give.
'All clear.' That had to be a finish line, right? Two more hurdles and rest would be mine.
A flight of stairs and a dozen more corners then I was hustled into another tight room. One dim lamp and a ratty suited man awaited with a stack of papers and a water bottle. He sat at a table I could rest my chin on with the slightest lean.
Every movie with hard boiled cops violating laws for the greater good had some dim corner where they put the metaphorical clamp on the bad guys. They looked a lot like this pit.
There were no refreshments on my side of the table.
I swallowed, throat parched, and sat.
Yet another uncomfortable chair. Worse than the metal bucket in the van. I didn't kick my feet and just left them hanging. Already my will to get through this and to the rest beyond was draining. I burned a bit hotter for it.
What sort of agency put victims through this? Probably more than I wanted to think about, even back home. I could see DHS torturing a stranded sailor for being some drug smuggling scheme.
In a spark of whimsy I bent my feet down to see if I could reach the floor with the tips of my toes.
No dice.
"To continue looking into your situation," began the rat voiced man before me "we'll need to assemble some rudimentary reliable information."
"And what was your breakfast again?"
"It still was honeyed toast and a bagel-"
"And which did you eat first?"
"The toast!"
"And what were you doing right before the 'blink'?"
"Just going upstairs. That's why I fell over! I explained that."
"It's essential to make sure these details aren't being mixed up." His voice hadn't shifted in pique even once.
Keeping down my derisive snort was impossible. Time that could be spent adjusting, eating, and recuperating was instead being burnt trying to make me trip up. Knowing it was going on didn't make staying calm any easier. The tempo of his questions left me no time to gather myself.
"-nd the reason you stayed in the alley so long was…?"
"I was scared. I'm still scared. I have nothing, look completely different from everyone, and now I know my family and life isn't even in this dimension. Are we done repeating the same damn questions?"
"We can move on, for now."
And he said it as if he was being magnanimous to a spoiled child-!
I had to breath, I could get through this. Do it for the food and safety of being in the government's good book.
"I still don't see what that has to do with anything-"
"Please focus on answering the questions or we'll be here longer."
"We're here longer because you keep asking about random history facts ten times in twenty questions. I'm not a history buff! Everyone forgets that stuff after they test for it!"
"-as said, you stated that AI is a new threat in the year 2025? I'll reiterate that this makes contact dangerous as AI is banned here and Earth Bet cannot afford to let one slip into our networks."
"But it's not AI!" I wheezed out, around here my face was smooshed against the table. I'd had to get my knees onto the seat just to get enough torso up to slump over and find some rest that didn't further pancake my rump on this sheet metal they called a chair. "It's just tech bro babble, man! They're using pattern recognition software and call any adjustment to the math steering the mimicry 'learning', and lemmings eat it up because they don't know how to spot what's missing from the potential of any of the media it generates. It's not a thinking machine, it's a mountain of reference images filtered by slave labor to be processed into a slightly different shape by the math systems they're constantly tweaking. It has never had conscious thought or spoken for itself. There is no evolution or awareness. No knowledge or learning. It's just math faking it with layers of predictive equations!"
I panted, half considering drinking the puddle of my own tears. Water had not been offered still and I was feeling my mouth convert to sand in real time.
Ranting was so much easier than trying to keep calm. I knew – knew – that this was the mental exhaustion they wanted in me. Caring to counter that manipulation was just not something I had the will to resist. Not when all I wanted was food to stuff in this petite muzzle mouth. Why drag things out?
"But they're progressing towards AI."
Some of my soul slipped out with the sigh I had to loose, choked up by croaky sobs.
"No. No, they're really not. They haven't made one step closer to any of the missing puzzle pieces. They just keep applying the same process to a new fad to fake progress. Hype and investors easily parted from their money is all they focus on. The shits on the brink of collapse and will probably kick off a depression."
Silence. Just the sound of keys typing notes. Maybe we were close to finished. They'd asked me about before and after the moment of transitioning here a dozen times-
"Can you give an estimate for when this AI could become more of a threat? Has it engineered any wars?"
I screamed.
Never again.
I had no means to keep that promise to myself. I had to acknowledge that as they finally let me loose from that torture hole. But I could only put these small feet to motion with that comforting lie held close.
I looked up. A smile was beyond my parched lips but I projected what emotion I could. "You're the best person here."
Victoria blinked and gave a stern glare back at the retreating interrogator.
More pertinently, she handed me a water bottle.
I snatched it with some Smeagel energy and after almost growling trying to twist the cap off I drank deep.
Bliss.
"I would have gotten you some real food, but I was called in to report and fill paperwork. I just got out like five minutes ago."
I forgave, too hungry to speak.
Saltines were given and consumed as the troops loomed about, making me anxious and pressured. Victoria gave them the stink eye for me.
"The Nine have been dead or gone for almost a month. Command really shouldn't be this paranoid."
The troops said nothing. Powerless middlemen.
"I appreciate that concerns. I'm not happy about it but I just want things cleared up. Kicking more fuss will just make this circus take longer" Whatever the Nine were could be sorted out later. Godzilla's weekly romps through downtown wouldn't be enough to wrest me from getting this crap done now.
Anything to make tomorrow have one more minute of free time. The interrogation was over. That had to be the worst of it. No question. Whatever testing entailed could be cleared and I would bury myself in whatever bed roll I was allowed.
There were no trashcans. Possibly out of fear of explosive garbage, if my read on these loons was correct. Either way I was stuck carrying this grimy sardine plastic package. I had licked it out for crumbs already so it was now thoroughly worthless.
The captain spoke up again, making my skin raise before I even heard his words.
"We've got testing facilities next. Once your powers are documented you will be generally free to rest for the remainder of the day."
Victoria took umbrage while I sagged. "Really? You had her in there for almost three hours! Who says testing can't wait for tomorrow? She's cleared, isn't she?!"
The captain just held firm about orders 'from the top'.
Glory Girl didn't seem to have much influence over getting me leeway. Plastic crinkled in my hand. Or maybe what food she had gotten me was already an exception.
Advanced warning had been given already about testing, or whatever. Frankly I was hoping I had no powers, just a companionable shadow. Then they might get off my back sooner and just set me up some place out of the way.
Or they could decide my powerless ass didn't qualify for government aid and kick me back onto the street.
Victoria drifted in silent impotence. I could relate. My body ached to vent. Hours burnt essentially being asked if I was a liar repeatedly.
Instead I just followed with furious steps to keep pace.
"I don't know what your bosses expect. I have no idea if I can even do anything fantastic. Frankly, I'd be happy if I was just a walking mood ring."
"I would recommend against hiding any powers. Master and Stranger affects especially. Anything withheld that can threaten safety will be noted against you."
I cringed away from the captain's brunt insistence.
"Ignore him," Victoria insisted with exasperation, advice for her as much as for me. She swept in closer to me, obscuring the big lump some. "Powers tend to give people an instinctive sense for how to use them. If you don't have that, you could be dealing with different trigger conditions than we've seen before. Something similar to what sets case fifty-threes apart."
Powers. Already the subject was grinding my gears.
I wanted to sigh, but she was really trying to help. "Okay," I said too heavily. I bit back more and breathed some.
"So I could have to work at it some to figure out if she," I gestured at my Shadow who was still being avoided like the plague "does anything."
I already had that earlier inkling of what was possible. Something I'd ignored because it was sort of like finding pepper spray in your pocket at a dmv. Appealing, in one's lowest moments, but not about to resolve anything.
Only what I was packing felt like a lot more. If these intrusive impressions were right.
"Possibly. Or it could come to you as needed. These are new waters. The PRT ENE is a bit stretched but they do have good facilities for safely measuring power metrics. It can help a lot to know what you can do to someone before you go out there, believe me."
I nodded absently.
"Or I could be something else. Does that happen?"
Victoria gave a slow shake of the head. "No, every power operates within the parahuman norms, really."
My skin itched.
"So, what's a trigger?"
She winced but still filled me in while we walked.
From the sound of it no one had a good time getting powers. At least I could claim some membership to that club I guess.Last edited: Oct 30, 2025 Like ReplyReport Reactions:buffog, wolfFry1132, TripleCCC and 225 othersSantafireOct 30, 2025Add bookmarkView discussionThreadmarks Chapter 3 New View contentSantafire.Nov 2, 2025Add bookmark#40Their test techs were nerds. Obsessive ones.
"Amazing, you can even hear at frequencies only dogs can! You've got quite the range of extra utilities from the transformation."
They were also insensitive. If I was more bothered by my new ride wouldn't this just aggravate someone needlessly? Freshly comatose and unmoored case fifty-threes were put through this? Or were they treating me differently? I couldn't imagine a good reason why they would.
"Now, try this smell test-"
Victoria gave me a sad little half smile, her cat ears high. She'd been catching every noise I had. "The extra senses are helpful, at least."
That was as much encouragement as it was pained understanding and something more heavy in her tone. I felt like I should say something, but just nodded. This was hardly the place.
But my gaze kept wandering back to her ears and the wisps of fur that thinned into bare skin. The anxious curl of her tail whenever she was in her own thoughts.
She must have someone better to talk to, right?
Minutes were spent verifying that my nose worked well. Not like, bomb dog grade, but well beyond human. My nasal cavity didn't have the space for the breadth of receptors of a hound, and the eggheads seemed ecstatic that my features performance matched my physiological portions. For some reason.
That was the phrase they used for what was essentially a kitty muzzle with some pouty lip to it.
They had all of this lined up ahead of time, too.
It was when they set up the fabricated blocks that things got more outright superhuman.
"Its not much but I've really been trying to do this delicately. I've broken some stuff because where you apply force really matters."
Victoria had a three ton white block hefted like it was a basic stress ball. That feat knocked my overwhelmed stupor onto the back burner. For the moment, all I could process was the block she held without having to account for its mass or balance whatsoever. And how her smile was less strained than it had been throughout this episode of government care.
In this bright white chamber she positively glowed.
Some of these heroes really were photogenic. Victoria was more encouragement than showing off. Or maybe a bit of both.
Either way, when the techies prompted I walked up to the smallest block.
Some mental prompting and-
Purple smug burst up. Black took solid form from a splash of purple upon the ground. She was a hulk and dense as night beneath a shimmer of dim purple. Like ash the purple swirled around her form and my self.
Gripping the block was easy. Shadow's hands were vast, with fingers longer than my arms. They melded into the pristine white floors and even beneath the block with utter convenience. Not so much as a scratch left in their wake yet whatever I wanted them to contact, they would hold.
One hoist and the five hundred pound thing was aloft.
I felt… nothing.
No strain. No exertion. No texture or grip. There was just a vague knowing that my Shadow was involved. Getting her to turn the cube wasn't too hard. Engaging my own hands as guides made the motion flawless.
Only the clunk as a corner clipped the floor reminded me how heavy this thing was.
"Awesome!" Victoria cheered. "Try tossing it a bit."
Feeling a bit encouraged, I bid my Shadow to do so. Lightly.
The block tumbled and was caught without a bit of pain or strain. A few more gave me a feel for it. Easier than I imagined a crane would be for even the best operator, yet it took a different sense than my own hand.
"You can probably throw it a lot higher." Victoria leaned in, like a student chatting during class.
"Probably." I only gave it a bit more juice. Victoria hummed but didn't comment further. "Do they have vending machines down here? Or a cafeteria?"
Though as soon as I suggested it the idea of walking into a crowd, even one used to dealing with outliers like I now was, gave me the butterflies.
"Some, are you-"
"Let's try the heavier blocks next!" interjected one of the lab rats, we both turned a bit. Really, again? "I also have a lunch I can spare, if you want?"
I nodded urgently. He could have something gross like chilled leftovers and I still wouldn't mind.
He ran off to their break room while I began on the thousand pound block. My Shadow surged to them, extending from my feet without me even having to move. How convenient.
The whur of a magnetron filled my ears. Their break room had a microwave.
By the time it was done my Shadow had hit some limit with the three thousand pound block. Something I hadn't really paid much mind, adjacent to the beat of my heart, strained when she hefted this mammoth block for me.
That strain lead no place within my flesh. No it was somewhere deeper.
It was a comfortable and vibrant mellow pool, as familiar as the air on my skin. It had no banks, no dirt that held it. But it was shaped all the same. An orb within comfortable nothing. Whatever sense perceived it only held familiar imagery against it. Like swatches. Bringing concept to the intangible by comparison.
The exertion set that orb rippling.
A four thousand pound block was tried. The pool quaked. It began to diminish, slowly but startling all the same. A new kinda of exertion that every part of me felt.
The block clanged onto the floor. I was breathing a bit harder.
A trickle was returning to the pool, a little creak of power. When I forced myself calm the return slowed. As I panted it sped.
"Four thousand is pretty good! No one on the wards besides myself can manage that much, maybe Weld? He'd be pushing it."
"Oh, that's kinda cool. I guess. Neat." I felt like a downer. She was clearly really into powers and responding to people's passions was a skillset I still had to polish.
"Not that competitive? Or maybe you're just humble? Either's fine."
I shrugged. "I'm mostly thinking about that pasta I'm smelling."
Speaking of, the microwave chimed. The tiny sound was especially shrill to these towering ears. Victoria shared my wince.
While the pasta steamed on the side- ravioli!- I was bid to try the five thousand pound block.
The exertion was too much. I flipped it, but a full lift disturbed my soul pond to the point control was difficult. Keeping the load steady was both exhausting and took active guidance from my hands to just reduce wobbling.
This wasn't even muscle pain. Whatever sense allowed me to perceive this power was throughout myself and it was sore.
The pain in my stomach was worse.
My ears echoed with the bang on the block slipping through my now incorporeal Shadow.
Another bid was made to try again with a different grip.
I shook my head. It was foot down time.
"I'm starving. I'll do more later."
The warm plastic was put in my awaiting sleeved hands. A fork was offered and taken.
I did not hesitate.
Real food. Good food.
I sat on the floor and the world faded away. Savoring a meal was the best part, but this was the brink of survival. Meaty ravioli washed away the dry dust of sardines. Water bottle in hand I swigged deep and handed it back to my Shadow.
Scientists were talking but I was too busy making future poop to care. With every bite my internal pool swelled. Each swell a relief. Every bite a delight to new taste buds.
Eating was better than ever.
I indulged, until the food was gone.
"-told them she was hungry. We don't know how long it's been since she had anything to eat."
Victoria was speaking to the kind scientist who'd given me his lunch.
I stood and held out his container.
"Thank you." I conveyed that with my fullest earnest meaning. Real ones take action instead of waiting for explicit requests. The break had even been enough time for that odd exertion to fade and soothe.
"It's no trouble, I'll just grab something from the cafeteria later." He hastened to get those words out. "Your coordination with your projection was quite impressive. Food drive is as strong as ever, huh!"
I tilted my head, ears flopping. Until I realized my Shadow was holding the container out. Oh, it had been too large to hold with just my one tiny hand. And risked messing my sleeve.
How had I made the swap without even noticing? The urgency of the moment, I guess.
As food guy ran his container back to the break room, and my stomach mourned its passing, the remainder of the inquisitive white coats spoke up.
"Let's try grip force next, and anything else that comes to mind!"
I nodded glumly, mind on beds and food, and glanced towards their break room. A small part of me hoped the rest of them were willing to shift to a cafeteria day. I could convince them to bring something back for me. Avoid a crowd. Or bring it to wherever I would finally be allowed to rest.
Things were mild. It was so detached to watch my Shadow manipulate and squeeze hunks of metal.
The scientists kept suggesting internal mechanisms. Squishing. Flexing.
Knowing.
I had knowledge. More that could be done with this ethereal orb. But I did not know what it would do.
This soul force was vast with applications. Flexible. And the feel of much of it was dangerous.
I hesitated to apply it.
"I don't know if this will hurt someone." Or hurt me.
"We'll hustle out of the way. Give it a go when we're in the clear."
They hurried to a second floor observation deck. Some troopers were already there.
Inside, I molded my pool. Set it in motion. Chill suffused me, energized me. Then I tagged my Shadow's tether to my pool-
She burst with purple vapors, they hazed off of her like twilight glow and psychedelic flames.
Her hands glowed brightest.
Did this mean more lifting power or…?
She reached for a steel block. And passed right through.
It was not a sizzle, or a pop, or a slice.
The purple ash that billowed up in her passing was silent. And the metal cube was now carved in two. A finger and palm section cleanly missing from its core.
Did- did I have to pay for that? Sweat pooled on my brow. Wait- what would that do to a person?
I shunted off the power and tried to steady my heart with forced pauses in my breath. The pool melded back into stillness.
Victoria swept up next to me.
"That was awesome!"
"Sure." I backed off, just a touch. Making sure any lingering smoke from my person didn't get near her.
Victoria's sails slacked. She looked at the block then back to me. "Hey, you can keep that turned off, right? There's no worry about accidently hurting someone. And it's probably limited to just non-living material, so that might not even be a concern in the first place."
"What do you mean? Why would it be limited?"
That made no sense. Flesh and skin were fragile as hell.
Victoria just shrugged earnestly. "If anyone ever finds out they'll be a hero of theorists everywhere. But that's how a lot of powers are. They either affect the living or the inanimate. Not both."
"So I could potentially not be a living murder weapon?"
I wasn't so insecure as to go to the super market while strapped up. The idea left me queasy. And it wasn't off the table yet. I was an outlier already.
Victoria put a hand on my back and gave some encouraging rubs. "Hey, there're all kinds of uses for this. You could bust down walls, help people escape collapses. Oh, you could probably even dust bullets by just using your shadow as a shield!"
That sounded horrible. Not the saving people part, firefighters were awesome. The putting myself into danger part. The leaping into life or death brawls where one slip up meant game over. One-life style. I knew just how often I made mistakes. A few hundred per souls game, to be exact. And that lead to another thought.
"Are you shot at often?" I asked with a wince, already fearing the answer.