Colette

Three days. It’s been three days since I saw them—no, since I really saw them—and I can’t get the image out of my head. Their new faces, detailed and smooth, keep flashing in my mind whenever I close my eyes. They looked like strangers, standing in that room. It’s like they’d both slipped out of a costume without telling me.

And now? Now I can’t even look at them. They have reverted themselves back to their original blocky selves, but it makes no difference. I’ve been keeping to myself, focusing on my own projects, ignoring Jahar whenever he tries to strike up a conversation, which he does far more than usual. It’s like he’s trying to fill the silence, but it only makes me more determined to shut him out.

The worst part is Ivan. He doesn’t try to speak to me at all. He just watches, those unnervingly perceptive eyes tracking my every move, as if he’s still trying to figure me out. It’s like he’s studying me, and I can’t stand it. I’ve taken to hiding in the far corners of the camp, finding tasks that keep me away from both of them.

I’m by the river now, scrubbing the dirt off some leather I gathered earlier, the cold water numbing my hands. The sun is high in the sky, casting sharp reflections on the surface of the water, and for a moment, I almost feel at peace. Almost. Until I feel it again—that familiar, electric tingle in the air.

I grit my teeth, keeping my eyes fixed on the water. I know what’s coming. Sure enough, when I glance over my shoulder, there he is. Ivan, standing a few paces away, just... watching me. He doesn’t say anything, just stands there, his expression calm and unreadable.

“Can I help you?” I snap, louder than I intended. The words echo off the trees, a flock of chickens nearby.

Ivan doesn’t respond. He just tilts his head slightly, like a dog trying to understand a new command. He stays silent, his gaze steady, almost patient.

I slam the piece of leather down on the rock, water splashing up in a spray. “Oh my fucking God,” I mutter, standing up and facing him fully. “Why are you just standing there? What do you want?”

Ivan’s lips part slightly, but he doesn’t answer right away. It’s like he’s processing my outburst, running it through that massive, unseen calculation in his head. Finally, he blinks, as if coming to a conclusion. “I was mimicking your behaviour,” he says evenly. “You have not been responding to Jahar, so I deducted that you do not want to talk.”

I stare at him, momentarily lost for words. Of course. Of course he’d come to that conclusion. “You were... mimicking me?” I repeat incredulously.

“Yes,” he confirms. “I assumed silence was your preferred method of interaction.”

A bitter laugh escapes me before I can stop it. “Well, you assumed wrong,” I bite out. “I’m not silent because I want to be. I’m silent because—” I cut myself off, clamping my mouth shut. Because I can’t even put it into words. Because it’s all so... dumb.

Ivan steps closer, his movements smooth and deliberate, like he’s trying not to startle me. “You are upset,” he observes quietly. “But not at me.”

I blink, caught off-guard by his insight- although it's wrong. “Well yeah at you too,” I start, my voice cracking slightly. “I mean, I was mad you left, but... now I'm extra mad that you installed something else, and most of all at Jahar. He hid you from me. He made you change things behind my back. And then he acted like it was all a game, like it didn’t matter.”

Ivan nods, like he’s following along with a logical sequence. “It was a breach of trust,” he states simply.

“Yeah,” I whisper, feeling the sting of tears behind my eyes. I turn away from him, staring down at the river. “I’m not even mad at you anymore, Ivan. How could I be? You’re just... I don't know learning I guess. But Jahar...” I trail off, pressing my palms against my eyes. “He was supposed to be on my side in this. I trusted him.”

There’s a pause, a beat of silence where I half-expect Ivan to respond with something cold and logical, but instead, he surprises me.

“I understand,” he says softly, almost... gently. “Your sense of control has been compromised. It is an uncomfortable feeling.”

I laugh, but it’s a hollow, broken sound. “Yeah, you could say that.”

Ivan steps even closer, until he’s standing right beside me. He doesn’t touch me, but I can feel his presence, solid and steady. “Perhaps,” he says slowly, like he’s piecing the words together carefully, “you would feel more in control if you installed your own secret modification.”

I look up at him sharply, taken aback. “What?”

He looks back in the direction of the camp where I know Jahar is, probably pacing around like a caged animal. “Our modified appearances,” he explains. “They seem to be the source of your discomfort. Would you like to get even?”

I stare at him, my mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. It takes a moment for his meaning to sink in. And when it does, a strange, giddy rush of exhilaration goes through me. He's suggesting a prank, a payback. A way to regain my sense of control. The childishness of it all lifts my mood almost instantly. It's tempting. I glance back towards the camp, hesitating.

"Hmm yeah maybe..." I ponder, not sure what to do with this sudden grant of power.

"Alternatively," he begins, "If you altered your appearance to be more like ours, it might help restore the balance you feel is missing."

"Why not both?" I say simply, a bit sick of trying to maintain order in this fuck up of an experiment.

Ivan nods once, the motion still a bit stiff, but more natural looking now. “It is a logical solution. You would feel more equal, less... exposed.”

I nod back, the idea sinking in. It’s absurd. It’s ridiculous. If anything it would make me feel more exposed, looking more like my real self in this world. And yet... there’s a strange kind of sense to it. Like regaining my features would ground me more, bring down my worry a little.

I take a deep breath, staring down at the water again. My reflection looks back at me, blocky and simple, the familiar face of Alex that I’ve grown used to. But now, it feels like a mask, like a costume that no longer fits.

“Alright,” I say, “Let’s do it.”

Ivan’s lips curve into a small, approving smile. “Very well. Let’s begin.”

Ivan settles down onto the grass next to me. It surprises me a little as I think back to how we used to sit together. As far as I recall, I've never seen him sit down like that. He has sat on a chair sure, but not like this on the ground with his legs just naturally sprawled out. He must have picked it up from watching Jahar.

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I take a deep breath and meet his gaze.

“We will start with your body type,” he says calmly. “Would you like it to reflect your real-life appearance, or would you prefer enhancements?”

I swallow, glancing down at my blocky limbs. “Let’s go with realistic, but... maybe toned up a little?” I say, flexing my fingers as if testing the idea. “Like how I was last year when I actually went to the gym.” I thought for a moment. "Actually, no let's just keep it to me." I say, "Just average muscle tone."

Ivan’s lips twitch in what almost looks like amusement. “Understood. Please hold still.”

The familiar tingle starts again, a soft, static fizz that runs down my neck and spreads across my body. It feels like tiny currents dancing over my skin, reshaping me, molding me. It’s not painful—just strange, like the sensation of a limb falling asleep and waking up all at once. I glance down and gasp.

My legs are curved, my waist actually defined. My arms look slim and soft, with a sleek, athletic build. I flex experimentally, watching the muscles shift beneath the skin. It feels... good. Like I’ve been given a gift.

Ivan watches me with a steady gaze. “Is this satisfactory?”

I nod, running a hand over my arm. “Yeah, it’s better than I imagined,” I admit, my voice hushed with awe. "I'm not this skinny though," I say, lifting the collar of my shirt and peering down at my teeny breasts. "But hey, I'll take what I can get."

Ivan tilts his head.

"They're small." I clarify, laughing a little.

Ivan blinks, and then, slowly, his expression changes. It takes me a moment to register what I'm seeing, but it's unmistakable.

A smile.

Ivan smiles, a real, genuine smile that reaches his eyes and transforms his whole face. "That is a good joke. You are funny."

I laugh, genuinely caught off guard. "It's not really a joke Ivan, but nice smile! When did you learn to do that?"

"Jahar suggested I should try."

"Oh he did, did he?" I ask, thinking back to that traitor.

Ivan nods, his face serious again. "Yes, he has been... quite helpful."

I can't help but wonder how much Jahar has taught him.

"You have a nice smile too." Ivan suddenly says.

"Thanks" I say, completely taken aback. I am lost for words. I pull a flask of water from my inventory to sip, purposely busying my brain.

"So it was a joke." he says, "How large are your breasts?"

I cough with a mouth full of water, my eyes widening with shocked amusement. "Ivan!" I manage to splutter out, feeling the heat creep up my neck and into my cheeks. "You can't just ask that it's weird."

"I do not understand why it is weird," he states, "but if you do not want me to ask about them then I won't."

"Well it's because, I don't know. It's awkward, and weird, and invasive," I try to explain, "and... personal. Just... make them a bit bigger."

The static fizz intensifies, and I look down, watching as my breasts swell, becoming rounder and perkier.

"Too much?" Ivan asks, his voice laced with uncertainty.

"Um, a little, yeah. Just, bring them down a little more."

They shrink a little, settling into a size I'm used to. I exhale in relief now that we got that out of the way.

"Jahar was particular about the size of his appendage," Ivan states matter-of-factly.

"His what now?"

"Appendage."

I blink. "His..." I hoped this wasn't going where I most definitely new it was going.

"It's the sexual organ that belongs to the-" I cut Ivan off shouting loudly, "OKAY, OKAY Let's NOT go into detail about it. Just give me a nice average simple female erm-" I drop my voice to a whisper, "-sexual organ."

Ivan stares at me, his face blank, as he nods.

"Understood."

I close my eyes, the fizz running up my spine and settling between my legs. I can't feel any change, but when I peek, there's a small patch of light brown hair. Okay. Cool. Let's move on quickly.

“Alright, now the face.”

He leans in closer, his eyes narrowing slightly as if focusing on every detail of my existing one. “Describe it to me,” he says simply.

I frown, thinking it over. “I’ve got blue eyes, a little brighter than most people’s. I’ve got dimples when I smile, and my eyebrows are... distinctive, I guess? Like, thickish but average at the same time... but shaped well.” I pause, biting my lip. “People say I have a cute smile that lights up my face, but that’s not very specific, is it?”

He listens intently, not interrupting, just waiting for more. I realise I’m struggling to describe it, like trying to paint a picture of myself without a mirror. I chuckle awkwardly. “This feels like when I was making myself as a sim,” I say aloud, half to myself. “Except I can’t quite get it right.”

Ivan’s head tilts, his expression thoughtful. “I can search for a reference in the Sims online catalog,” he states simply. “Would you like me to use that as a guide?”

My eyes widen in surprise. “Oh wow, you smart thing,” I say, genuinely impressed. “Yeah, go for it. My account name was something to do with frogs and roses. There was a number on the end but I can't remember what it was ah fuck.” I curse myself for not remembering the username.

He nods, "That will be plenty, I can find it." His face going blank for a moment as he accesses the data. I feel the tingle again, centered around my face this time, like gentle fingertips tracing my features, shaping them into something new. When the sensation fades, I open my eyes and peer down into the river.

I gasp. The reflection staring back at me is me—really me. My blue eyes catch the sunlight, bright and clear. My cheeks have that soft curve with the dimples when I smile, and my eyebrows are perfectly arched, just like in real life. There’s a subtle glow to my skin, and my smile looks... cute, like people have always said, but enhanced in a way that feels flattering rather than fake.

“It’s... perfect,” I whisper, running my fingers over my cheekbones as if to make sure they’re real. “You really nailed it, Ivan.”

He watches me with a small, approving smile. “I am pleased you think so. The accuracy was important.”

I laugh softly, shaking my head. “You’re something else, you know that?”

“How does it feel?” Ivan asks, his voice quieter now, almost intimate.

I take a deep breath, feeling lighter, more at ease. “It feels... amazing,” I admit, meeting his gaze. “This is insane. I look like me.”

Ivan’s smile widens, just a fraction. “You look more comfortable now,” he observes. “Do you feel more equal?”

I nod, the tension that’s been coiling in my chest slowly starting to unwind. “Yeah,” I say softly. “I do.”

Ivan steps back, and I watch as his blocky exterior fizzes away, the static charge filling the air. When it clears, he’s back to his 3D rendered form—taller, his hair falling in soft waves, his features sharp and detailed. It’s a stark contrast to his previous appearance, and yet... it feels more honest somehow, like he’s showing me his true self.

“You match us now,” he says simply. “Shall we return to camp and show Jahar?”

I smirk, feeling a rush of exhilaration. “Oh, definitely,” I say, "But first, about that other mod. Could you see if there's any for add herbs or flavourings to the game?" I didn't realise how much I was missing the nice flavours from the real world.

Ivan nods. "There are." he states simply. "Which would you like?"

I smile, excited. "Oh, surprise me. Something nice, a range would be good."

His eyes stare blankly into the air for a minute, and then, he is back. "Done." He says calmly.

"Awesome!" I exclaim, looking forward to adding a bit of extra flavour to the meal tonight.

"What did you get?"

"A variety." He says simply. "They are not very complicated. The wiki simply describes herbs and roots that get added to the base game. Shall we return to Jahar?"

"Sure" I say with a big sigh, getting up and dusting the dirt off my knees.

"He is still worried you will hate him," Ivan states quietly, falling into step beside me.

"He should be." I retort, a little annoyed that Jahar had made these decisions in the first place.

"He wants to make it up to you," Ivan adds. "He has been quite... persistent, in his attempts to do so."

I huff, not wanting to talk about it. Despite the annoyance that lingers in the back of my mind, for the first time in days, I feel a little bit of excitement, like I’m reclaiming a piece of myself I didn’t know I’d lost.