HeTrOS Daily Transformation Report, August 28th, 2042:
Subject: 56e7fc5e-17c4-4fb2-8a9c-71957331c821 (herein after “c821”), aka Sophie Kim.
Target Identity: Leoric Stargaze
Physical Adjustments:
Height: Increased by two and a half inches.
Weight: Increased by seven and a half pound.
Hair: Length unchanged. Texture lightened in tones, transitioning to an intermediate shade between c821’s natural black and Leoric’s balayage. Current shade: Base #24201b, Highlights #4d4232.
Muscle Mass: Notable increase, particularly in the legs, showing early shifts toward a more athletic runner’s build. Upper body showing leaner, yet stronger definition, aligning with the target’s physique as a ranger.
Skin Colour: Shifted to a slightly darker tone, approaching the honey-bronze hue of the target. Current shade: #d6b18e.
Eye Colour: Adjusted slightly to a darker brown, intermediate between baseline and target. Current shade: #3f2f25.
Partial Reduction of Secondary Sexual Characteristics: Facial hair beginning to thicken and darken. Partial deepening of the voice. Slight expansion of the larynx detected. Tone becoming richer, more resonant, though still mid-transition.
Distinctive Features:
Future ear site preparation for eventual growth.
Recommended measure:
- Continue transformation at the current rate. NOTE || Pfft! He’s lucky I’m not speeding it up! — #SysAdminZephyra
- Monitor ears site. c821 might feel the need to scratch at the site. Keep nanomachines on standby for emergency repairs.
- Further tracking of vocal changes to prevent strain during transitional stages.
Special mention:
- Subject’s mental compatibility between registered and target identity is remarkable. The transformation is initially unlikely to cause distress in the subject.
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Thursday, August 28th, 2042, Coal Harbour, Vancouver, Canada.
The sound of seagulls and the gentle hum of distant traffic filtered through the half-open window of the apartment. A young woman stirred in her sleep, the soft rays of morning light creeping across the floor, nudging her awake.
Sophie blinked, squinting at the sunlight that seeped past the curtains, then groaned softly.
Why am I awake? It’s way too early to get out of bed.
But she was undoubtedly awake now. With a grunt, Sophie straightened herself.
She stretched, pulling her arms over her head. Pleasure radiated down her body, starting at the tip of her arms, to her spine and lower back.
Oh yeah, that felt good.
She peeked outside. It was a sunny day today. Those were rare enough in Vancouver that a lot of runner’s club made fun of fair-weather runners—people who would only show when the weather was nice.
Which, practically, means those folks almost never show up.
Rolling her shoulders to release the tension, Sophie shifted sideways in bed and reached for her phone on the nightstand, squinting as the bright screen lit up. 6:07 AM.
She groaned.
I only got about three hours of sleep. How I am going to deal with a full day of work with that little?
She sighed.
It was earlier than her usual wake-up, but there was no point in forcing herself back to sleep. Later today, she had clients to meet—VR meetings that would take up the rest of her afternoon.
She could already picture it.
She would try to defend her creations and ideas, but in the end, she would just give up and would go with whatever ridiculous things her clients wanted.
Huh, you think your logo would look great in hot pink and pumpkin orange? Sure, why not.
She shoved those thoughts aside.
She was already looking forward to logging in A Realm Reforged Again later today. No point in ditching work to log early, though. Elyssia had let her know she had a corporate eight-to-five. Vaelith worked for the government, apparently, and equally had a regular daily schedule. As for Kaelyn, she was apparently a NEET.
Not that this came as a surprise. Unemployment rates had reached unprecedented heights following the proliferation of artificial intelligence. Thankfully, the government’s financial aid allowed most people to live comfortably in VR space, even without a job.
Comfortably in that sentence was doing a lot of heavy lifting.
You could survive and maybe have friends and connections. Enough disposable income to eat virtual food, and go to virtual concerts or movie screenings. But you would not impress your friends with brand-clothing, trips to exotic worlds—even if it was only implanted memories of a trip to Mars—or deluxe massages.
You just could not expect to get a lot out of meatspace if you stuck to government help. If you wanted a clean place, with fresh air that was actually breathable? You had to get some kind of supplementary income.
Sophie’s freelance gig had been enough to get an apartment in an expensive neighbourhood of the most expensive city in Canada. But she only landed that deal through luck.
A few years ago, the city finally tired of all the complaints about the empty skyscrapers sold to foreign speculators. They bought them all back, and then sold the units back to people who would actually live in them, at a pretty good price, considering.
Not cheap, not by any means. But it was a far better deal than most brand new constructions. Years of sitting idle meant a quick dusting was all it took to turn them into hospitable lodgings.
Despite that, Sophie could only afford a studio. And unless something completely unexpected happened, she would probably only clear that debt after forty years of mortgage payments. Sophie did not believe in buying lottery tickets, so winning the jackpot was not part of her long-term plans.
At least, the interest rate had not reached the point where her monthly payments did not even match the interests. A few years before her time, that had been, unfortunately, rather common, or so she learned in economy class. There had been a funny sight in many banks’ Excel sheet for depreciation as the software claimed paying off the mortgage would take infinite time.
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
Enough grim thoughts!
Today, Sophie would start the day positively by going outside for a jog.
It was not exactly a daily routine, but when she woke up that early, it was better than slipping back to sleep. She knew herself. If she tried to catch a few more winks, she would sleep through all her alarms. It would be a “go directly to jail, do not pass Go” situation.
Sophie kicked the covers off, her legs sliding effortlessly out of bed. She paused, glancing down at herself as her feet hit the cool hardwood. Something felt... different, but she could not quite put her finger on it.
Were my calves always this toned, this defined?
She leaned over and rubbed her calves. Her muscles spasmed lightly at the touch.
Was this soreness from yesterday’s background workout in VR? Or was it something else? Too many uninterrupted hours diving always left her body feeling odd.
Yesterday, she had not been outside for a jog. The grey sky and the news of the game had devoured every waking hour. She logged in at ten in the morning and went to bed at three. A seventeen hours marathon.
Gosh, I’m so glad Daniel wasn’t around to see that.
Her ex would have had a field day lecturing her about wasting her entire day gaming.
Well, that’s too bad. Yesterday was so fun.
Elyssia was a breath of fresh air. Not only was she a walking improbability, existing in an alternate version of reality that simply bent to her very whims, but she also totally shattered Sophie’s image of what women were capable of.
Sophie had created Leoric the way he was, because that was what she felt you had to look like, to command respect, to blaze your own path.
And yet, she stumbled on Elyssia, shattering that impression.
A cute, tomboyish sylvani girl with a silly grin, mischievous eyes, and adorable freckles. Chaining impossible victories, one after the one.
No, not just doing impossible things.
What was that motivational poster again?
“If the thing is possible, it is already done. If it is simply difficult, we’re already doing it. The impossible we’ll do immediately; the miraculous takes a little longer.”
Elyssia was simply producing miracles, one after the one.
Which might be why it was so odd to see her lose her composure like she did at the bazaar yesterday.
Sophie wondered at how deep the river of Elyssia and Vaelith’s friendships ran.
The spunky martial artist would not hesitate to fight the entire world for the sake of her friend.
And she had been so close to actually resorting to violence. If she—if Leoric had not stopped her.
One tiny sylvani against the world.
She would probably have won, make no mistake.
Leoric had not saved Elyssia from danger—she had saved the citizens of Luminara.
How did you transform the friendly, funny Elyssia into the raging volcano she turned into?
Sophie sighed, brushing all the drama away.
There was little point talking hypotheticals.
Until Elyssia opened up, Leoric and Sophie would have to remain in the dark.
But that was fine. She did not have to understand the tiny sylvani. She could just watch over her and offer a helping hand. If she would even accept or need the help.
Sophie stood up, padding her way to the small bathroom of her studio apartment. Her home was not big, but it was hers, and it was enough—a place where she could work, sleep, and escape when necessary.
She splashed cold water on her face, her dark eyes staring back at her from the mirror. For a second, she thought her face looked a little leaner, her jawline a touch sharper. But no, it had to be the angle or the lighting. Three hours of sleep was all she had gotten, and it probably affected her perception.
She ran a hand across her chin. She could barely see them in the fluorescent bathroom light, but she could feel the invisible facial hair.
She took a mental note to keep watch and shave it off later if it bothered her. But without Daniel around to remind her to get rid of any kind of facial or body hair as soon as he could perceive them, there was no rush. She could do it later.
She pulled and tied her long black hair into its usual ponytail, twisted it a little tighter, and then left the bathroom. Sophie threw the oversized tee shirt, which had served as both a nightshirt and yesterday’s loungewear, onto her bed. She grabbed her running gear from the drawer. Fitted leggings, underwear, a sports bra, and one of her favorite oversized t-shirt. She glanced at herself in the mirror again, noticing how the shirt did not hang off her the same way it used to.
Must’ve shrunk doing laundry.
She pulled on her shoes and tied the laces after adjusting them until they did not feel as constrictive.
She grabbed her wallet and card key and left the apartment; the door locking automatically behind her.
She inserted her wireless buds into her ears and hit the shuffle button on Neo Pulse’s latest album.
The elevator wait and ride downstairs took only a few minutes, and the walk through the lobby was brisk.
Fresh morning air hit her face as she left the building. Similar buildings to her own surrounded her. Same design, same height, same small balcony copy-pasted hundreds and hundred of times, all over, everywhere she could see.
Welcome to Coal Harbour; A charming mix of business and residential.
Yeah, right?
She jogged toward Stanley Park. The muted sound of her feet against the pavement echoed in the still-quiet streets, the occasional car passing by. Jogging had always been her way to clear her head before a long day of freelance work, but something about today felt different.
She picked up her pace; her legs moving faster than usual, with less effort. There was no strain in her calves, no tightness in her thighs as there normally was after a few blocks. If anything, she felt... lighter.
Almost like her body was running on autopilot with more energy than she knew what to do with. The ease of it surprised her, and for a moment, she pushed herself, speeding up along the waterfront path.
Faster.
Her breath came steadily, even as her feet pounded the pavement. The usual burn in her lungs was absent, replaced by a calm, rhythmic flow. Her body was responding in a way it never had before—like it wanted her to push it further. It surprised her, but she complied, as nothing felt wrong.
It reminded her of the last leg of last night’s journey, the insane sprint through the lowbie zone surrounding Luminara. Leoric’s body had not complained at the impromptu race. It had been exhilarating, even.
Throughout her loop, surrounded by the lush greenery of Stanley Park, she noticed the way fellow runners and tourists glanced at her. Their gazes felt different from usual. Not leering, nor dismissive, more… curious?
Before, she was used to blending in—another small woman of Asian heritage on her morning jog, just one among the masses. Today, though, people were looking at her like... like they were not sure how to categorise her.
She noticed she passed quite a few other joggers. Sophie knew she definitely fell in the average for jogging speed. She would occasionally pass others, but outdoorsy and athletic types attracted to Vancouver’s culture would pass her regularly. But today, she was leaving others behind far more frequently than she was used to.
When she recognising her usual landmark, she turned around and started back toward home. The jog back was even smoother than before, her legs practically gliding over the pavement. But in the back of her mind, there was a nagging thought she could not quite shake—like she was changing, little by little, in ways that were not just from regular exercise.
At a traffic light, she caught her reflection in the glass of a nearby building and slowed her pace. Her silhouette looked almost androgynous, her athletic frame cutting a leaner figure than she remembered.
Androgynous? Since when is that how I see myself?
The oversized t-shirt that used to drown her now seemed to hang just right, not too loose, not too tight.
Something’s bothering me about this, and I don’t know what it is.
Sophie paused, hands on her hips. Taking a moment to catch her breath—not that she needed to—she kept inspecting her reflection. She felt better than ever, energised in a way that was unfamiliar. Her skin, usually pale from long hours indoors working on her freelance projects, had the slightest hint of colour now. Something about her body seemed better.
Maybe I’ve been pushing myself harder than I thought. But... can that really explain all this?
Once she reached her apartment building, Sophie glanced at the elevators in the lobby, but headed to the stairs.
She climbed them, two at a time, barely feeling winded. Twelve stories higher, the usual ache in her knees was nowhere to be found.
The door to her apartment unlocked itself at her arrival, and stepped inside, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge before flopping down onto the couch. As she gulped down the water, her phone buzzed. Forty minutes had passed since she left.
That alarm should have signaled her it was time to turn around. That normally coincided with her reaching that middle-point landmark in the park. But here she was, already back at her place, even with the extra additional effort of climbing the stairs.
What? But that makes no sense.
She wondered if she had accidentally paused the timer as she ran.
But no, she could tell from her playlist. She had not gone through all the songs of the album yet—so it had not been an hour yet.
She wondered in awe.
Is that a fluke? How was I so fast this morning? Does that happen to professionals? Suddenly destroying their normal performance, out of the blue?
Still, her mind lingered on the run. Lingered on the way her body responded. On how people had looked at her.
She stared at her reflection in the glass of her living room window. The person staring back was lean, athletic, more defined. Her muscles, once subtle beneath her skin, now stood out in sharp relief. Even the way she held herself was different—stronger, more confident. Something was changing.
She felt so empowered by it. It felt good. It felt like freedom.
She was not just faster and stronger—she was more herself than she had ever been. Every step, every breath, felt like it belonged to her in a way it never did before.
She could run wherever Zephyra’s winds carried her—though she was not sure where they might lead.
That was a delightful dream. But now, it was time for a well-deserved shower.
And once she was done with her shower, she had work to do.
Surely, Zephyra’s winds would still be there in the game, waiting for her after her day of work.
And as the warm water ran started running down her body, she silently wished that her unexplainable improvement in jogging would remain.
A girl can dream.