The transparent blue HUD of my status screen faded from my vision, with a wave of my hand, leaving behind the familiar sight of my pastel-colored bedroom. The numbers, however, were burned into my mind.
"STR: 2. DEX: 2."
A constant, quantifying reminder of the body I'd inherited. A weak body that the old Sael, had intentionally created. A heavy sigh escaped me, as that were the only reaction I can voice out. I let myself fall backward onto the bed, the soft mattress yielding beneath me with a quiet poof of air. The initial high of discovering Sunday was now tempered by the crushing weight of economics.
'Sunday,' I thought, my eyes fixed on a glow-in-the-dark star slightly askew on the ceiling.
'The entertainment industry here… it's a barren wasteland. I need a full analysis of everything… I need to know the market size, revenue streams, distribution platforms, everything…. Can you compile a report for me? and also Be discreet. Don't get us flagged by some corporate AI. Or anyone, no matter what…'
"[Acknowledged, Sir,]" her voice was a calm presence in my mind. "[Initiating broad-spectrum data scrape of public-facing entertainment and financial sectors. I will employ passive data collection protocols to avoid detection. Compiling a comprehensive report is now my primary background task.]"
'Good. Thank you.'
With Sunday silently working, the room felt emptier. My thoughts turned inward, away from stats and data packs and toward the more immediate, human problems.
The old Sael was a parasite. A financial and emotional leech of the Hardcox family. He'd taken from everyone—from Cathy's endless love, from Vera's protective nurturing, from Bella's unwavering affection, and from Nadia's… everything. He'd taken their money, their care, and repaid them with contempt and rejection. The memory of it, now become my memory, and honestly it filled me with nothing but disgust for him and utter shame for me.
"I am not him,". I had to reaffirmed that, the thought that worked as a solid anchor in the weirdness of my new existence.
'I carry my own weight...'. The first step that I had to take, was mending the damage he'd left in his wake. And it was a lot, but now that I am here and it was a reality that I had to live with his mistake hanged on my shoulder, I had to repair everything no matter what it takes.
And I want to start with the most fragile relationship of all. The one that made the entire family shuddered and began to crack due to the GMRD. The government mandate.
My… assignment with Natalia.
I let my mind wander to her as a person. Not as my grandmother, but as Nadia. The woman, the memories of the old Sael screaming at her, calling her a "pervert," a "deviant," for a situation that was as much her prison to her, as it was to him. And the fact that he can shouted that sort of word to her, made me sick. The GMRD isn't controlled by any of them, Natalia did not go around and asked to be matched with him. Shit just happened. And in this stupid world, she had to agree, because if she didn't the subsidies that helped the entire family stay afloat would be taken away. She had loved him unconditionally; the woman was all but loved to him since he was a child. Changed his diapers, nursed him. and then he'd weaponized her love to hurt her.
This world's morals were different. Very different, it was a world and society that were leaning heavily to sexual freedom and normalcy. My own desires, were not just permitted here; they were mandated, and respected, and also expected.
'He was so averse to it… yet, at the same time he desired to want it as well… what is so hard to just do it…'.
The Old Sael was disgusted and hated female, but also desperately wanted to be one. The thing is, in this world the age of consent and adulthood is 16 years old. Sound too young, but not really, when just 80 years ago the life expectancy was 70 years old. Also, by nature and I guess the god doing, I guess. The humanity in this world is extremely lustful, horny as fuck by nature, this is real and it was extensively researched, that even I read the paper about it. How does the Old Sael come to be what he becomes, it was simple actually, people, society and the government tells him to start having sex, and he doesn't want to. He rebels too much that he kinda gets too absorb on becoming a Femboy, and since he got to invested in it, he just starts doing whatever he like.
The woman in the family loved him so much to say shit. Whatever he wanted they give him, he lashed out and cursed everyone, they blamed it on the 'bad day'. The Old Sael was a kid that, if it was me, I would smack him in the face and give him a triangle chokehold and said 'shh go to sleep, shithead'.
Then again, now, his mess, I have to be the cleaner. But, right now, to be honest, the idea wasn't repulsive to me at all, in fact, I liked it. I am a horny guy, I loved sex, despite not having enough of them back in my old life. Also, the old Sael is utterly stupid, the GMRD case assigned him to impregnate his grandmother, if he doesn't want to have sex with her, just do a freaking artificial insemination. Nope, he had to go around and insult everyone and make a scene.
"Brrr~ shit, I need to fill my gullet now…". My stomach chose that moment to growl, a loud, gurgling protest that echoed in the quiet room.
Right. The burrito was long gone. I also spotted the empty plate sitting on my desk, I pushed myself off the bed, my movements still feeling slightly off in this lighter, weaker body. I picked up the plate and walked out of my room. Since I already ate, I had to clean as well, I had to train this body to learn to do some work. I know from his memory that he never once washes his own dishes.
The hallway was quiet. The only sound was the low, mechanical hum of the refrigerator from the kitchen. I padded softly down the short hall, the cool linoleum floor under my bare feet. I rounded the corner into the kitchen and stopped. She was there. Natalia stood at the sink, her back to me. The afternoon light from the window caught the faint dust motes in the air and haloed her figure.
"Hmmm~".
She was humming a soft, sad tune I didn't recognize, her shoulders moving rhythmically as she scrubbed a pot. She hadn't heard me approach. It gave me a moment to just… look.
She was wearing a simple, worn-out white shirt and a long yellow skirt. The fabrics were so thin and aged from countless washes that they were almost translucent against the bright window light, showing me a clear sight of her body and skins. I could see the clear outline of her bra strap across her back, a dark line against the white cloth. My eyes traveled down, following the curve of her spine to the swell of her wide hips. The skirt clung there, and I could just make out the faint, telling lines of her white panties digging into the generous, soft curve of her fleshy giant bottom.
The sight sent an unexpected, jolting thrill through me. She wasn't just a grandmother to me; she was a woman. A beautiful, overtly voluptuous woman with a body that can make any man stop and watch, the sigh that not only spoke of life and warmth, but also awaken hidden desires. A flush of heat crept up my neck. My breath hitched for a second, my grip tightening on the plate.
She was my "government-mandated partner." Usually, such thought should have been weird. But in this world, in this context, it wasn't. and me as a man, have every right to feel what I felt. And to be truly honest I'm no longer conflicted or ashamed, nope, I am looking forward to it.
The floorboard under my foot creaked. Natalia's humming stopped. Her shoulders tensed. She turned her head slightly, seeing me in her periphery. She froze for a heartbeat, then slowly turned around, her movements cautious, as if afraid I might bolt or scream.
Her eyes, those deep, dark eyes filled with a permanent sadness, went from my face to the plate in my hand.
"Oh,". she said, her voice soft, almost a whisper. She offered a tentative, fragile smile that didn't reach her eyes.
"Is that your plate? Here… let me wash it for you." She held out her hand, gloved in yellow rubber, expecting me to thrust it at her and retreat like I always did.
I didn't. I took a step closer. The air felt thick.
"...Here," I said, my own voice sounding awkward to my ears. I placed the plate gently on the counter next to her, not in her hand, avoiding the touch she seemed to expect to be rejected.
I saw the confusion flicker in her eyes. This wasn't the script. She nodded slowly, turning back to the sink, her posture deflated. The unspoken words hung between us: Just leave. I know you want to.
Instead, I pulled out a chair from the small kitchen table. The legs scraped against the linoleum with a sound that was too loud in the tense silence. I sat down. I didn't know what else to do. My plan for a simple gesture had suddenly become a much more complicated scene.
I could feel her nervousness from across the room. She kept washing the same pot, over and over. After a long moment, she spoke again, her voice so quiet I almost missed it. It was a question wrapped in a hope so thin it was nearly transparent.
"Do you… do you want to have a tea… with me? Like old times?"
It was a peace offering. A plea for a sliver of normalcy, for a connection to the grandson she remembered before the bitterness took hold. The old Sael would have snarled. He would have called it a pathetic attempt to butter him up. The words were on my tongue, a ghost of his memory and habits 'No. Not really'.
I saw her shoulders slump the moment the thought formed, as if she'd already heard the rejection. She was braced for it.
But I wasn't him.
"No, not really…" I said, and I saw her flinch minutely. I paused, then pushed on, softening my tone. "But you can have the tea, Grandma… I want coffee… I'm not feeling tea at the moment."
The effect was instantaneous.
Her entire body went still. The pot she was scrubbing slipped from her gloved fingers and clattered back into the sink with a loud clang.
She turned around fully now, her eyes wide, searching my face. Tears welled in those dark pools, not of sadness, but of sheer, stunned disbelief. She was looking for the trick, the cruelty that must be coming next. It broke my heart a little.
I offered a small, hopefully reassuring smile. "Do we still have coffee? Mom and Aunt didn't finish all of them, right?".
I kept my voice light, casual, as if I'd asked about the weather. For a second, she just stared, a single tear tracing a path down her cheek. Then, a transformation. The sadness and fear shattered, replaced by a radiant, tearful joy that seemed to light her up from within. It was like watching a flower bloom in fast-forward.
"If my baby wants coffee…" she breathed, her voice thick with emotion. She ripped off the yellow gloves, tossing them on the counter.
"Then I'll make him coffee!"
She moved with a sudden, frantic energy, wiping her hands on her old skirt. She went to the cupboard, not the one everyone used, but a high, hidden one. She stood on her tiptoes, her movements graceful, and pulled down a small, unlabeled tin she'd clearly been hiding like a treasure.
"Look," she said, her voice bright and musical now, holding the tin like it contained diamonds. "Your mom and aunt prize coffee… they hoard it! But Grandma saved some. Just for… for a special day."
She said the last part almost to herself, as if she couldn't believe that day had finally come. She busied herself with the kettle, her movements quick and happy. The atmosphere in the kitchen, once heavy with depression, was now warm, charged with a fragile, newfound hope.
I sat there, watching her, the sexual tension from moments ago now mixed with a deeper, more profound warmth. It was a small step. A tiny accord. But it was the first one, my first step to mend the shitty mess that the old Sael had done.