“Emma?”

I heard my name, but I couldn’t breathe. Whatever was squashing my ribs shifted, and I realized with a start it was a human. Or a living thing, anyway.

I wheezed and opened my eyes. Whoever was lying on top of me was a complete stranger. I blinked and felt the blood rush out of my face.

Where was I? Had I been blown into a whole new world? But he’d said my name. He must know who I was.

“Emma?” he repeated. “Is that you?”

I nodded, and he pushed himself up more, his muscular arms bulging.

“Your hair is different,” he said. “And your horns are gone.”

Well, that was a good sign. I traced his features. Brown eyes, sharp cheekbones and a strong jaw. He was looking at me with an enquiring expression I’d only ever seen one place before.

“Jackal?” I gasped. “You made it here? Your hair is different too! It’s short!”

He still had the same look about him, the same essence, but he was human. Not an approximation of a mermaid-minotaur bred humanoid, but a proper human. His arms had less hair and though he was muscular, his minotaur inherited bulk was gone.

I wriggled out from underneath him and found out very quickly why it was such a squeeze. All of the guys had been transported into the very small office of my apartment and were in various stages of waking up. I did a quick headcount – Jackal, Bruiser, Brick, Nightfall, Bastion, James and myself… and Bonaparte!

A regular-sized weasel squirmed its way to the top of the pile of humans and shot out of the open door.

“First things first, let’s make sure everyone is okay,” I said. “Jackal, can you step out through the door? This room is way too small for everyone.”

He edged carefully out of the room, stepping carefully over the bodies, and stood by the door to watch.

“Bruiser? Is that you?” I said, reaching down to touch the forehead of the largest man in the room. Of everyone, he had maintained most of his looks – in his human form, anyway. I was glad that he hadn’t been in his bear form when the explosion had happened, considering Bonaparte had become a very regular-looking Earth animal.

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“Emma?” he asked blearily. “What happened?”

“You made it to my world. Are you hurt?” He shook his head at my question and sat up to look around the crowded room. “If you’re okay, can you head out and join Jackal?”

“I’m not green.”

I turned to look at Brick, who was staring at his human hands in wonderment. His long hair was still piled in his head in a top-knot, but it looked softer and lighter – again, more human than orcish. Or orc/elvish as we’d recently found out he really was.

“Emma? Are you safe? Are you well?”

I looked to the man the voice had come from, but for the life of me I couldn’t tell whether it was Bastion or Nightfall. His hair was still long, but the colour of it didn’t match Nightfall’s pitch-black tresses or Bastion’s dirty blond mop.

“Where’s my grindin’ hair gone?”

Well, that answered that question. I had to suppress a laugh at Bastion, who was gripping his short shaggy hair in panic.

“You’re not your elvish self anymore,” James reminded him, slouching against his desk leg. “The converter was set to change Fantasy Dungeons bodies into human equivalents, although I’d only meant it to work for Emma. You’re lucky to be alive at all.”

“But my hair! Humans have long hair. Why did it take my hair?”

Nightfall moved to my side, cupping my cheek and looking me over curiously.

“I must look different to you too,” I whispered, suddenly self-conscious about what everyone would make of the change. They’d gotten to know me in a perfect fantasy body, not one that had cellulite and maintained evidence of my pastry addiction.

“You’re different,” Nightfall agreed. “But equally beautiful, my goddess. Are you unhurt?”

I nodded. “I’m fine. And you?”

“I’m in perfect health,” he promised, and pressed a soft kiss to my lips.

I breathed out, relaxing instantly. He may look a little different, but he was still my Nightfall. He’d just lost the gothic pallor he’d inherited from his necromantic-influenced birth.

“But where in the grindin’ universe is my hair?” Bastion repeated, looking ready to throw a punch at James. “Nightfall and Brick kept theirs! Where’s my hair?”

“I don’t know,” James raised his arms over his face to protect himself. “It’s probably like a bad crop. Like sometimes when you try to remove a background with AI, it takes a little too much or leaves a bit in. It’s not perfect, but it’s doing its best.”

“I don’t know what any of that means,” Bastion seethed.

“Bast, come on,” Emma reached over and pulled the back of his shirt until he fell on his backside and buried his face in his hands.

“My hair,” he wept. “It was my best feature.”

I pulled him against me. “Maybe as a wood-elf. But you make a pretty cute human too, sweetheart.”

He gave me a vulnerable look, but then his expression shuttered, and he launched himself to his feet and stormed past everyone else to stand moodily in the far corner of the living room with his arms crossed.

I sighed. “Welcome to my world, everyone.”