My skin itself was shedding. Not dramatically — just the top layer peeling away like the world's worst sunburn, taking with it acne scars, minor blemishes, the rough patches from years of cheap soap. Underneath was skin that felt new, fresh, healthy. Not perfect — still recognizably mine — just... clean.
The pain shifted from burning to stretching. Muscles I'd never properly used were awakening, tightening, defining themselves. Not bulking up — staying lean, but every fiber becoming functional. The soft teenager body was being carved into something athletic without being intimidating.
I felt taller somehow, though I couldn't be sure. Maybe it was just my spine straightening from years of terrible posture, vertebrae aligning properly for the first time. My shoulders naturally pulled back, chest opening up, breathing becoming easier.
