She let out a sigh, finally sitting down on the solid bench. Maybe coming out here was a bad idea. Sure, she got to see her sister again, and her daughter always enjoyed playing with her cousins, but she wasn't ready for so much walking. Not with another one on the way.

"Tired?" her sister sat down next to her, watching over the chaos that would surely unfold in the dinosaur-themed gift shop. All she did was give a wordless nod, keeping eye on her child.

While the two young boys had already run off, playing with any toy they could get their hands on, and their younger sister played around with the first stuffed animal that got her attention, her daughter eyed the selves. Unlike most small children that would be running around at breakneck speeds, she was slow, deliberate.

She'd seen her daughter act like that before. Normally, she was a bit quiet, but still an energetic toddler. It was like she was searching for something. She was never sure what her daughter was trying to find. It was usually random. Sometimes it was a misplaced toy, which had long thought to be lost. Others, it was just a babble, something shiny and interesting.

Maybe she'd just saw a stuffed animal she really liked and was just going to retrieve it?

"We do need to hang out more often," her younger sister drew her attention.

"We do. But I don't think we'll be able to do much until after this one is born," she ran her hand across her stomach, over the sizable bump.

"Got any names yet?"

"We're thinking Joseph, for a boy, Laura, for a girl," she would have said more if it wasn't for her daughter making a loud squeak of joy. Both she and her sister's heads turned quickly, watching the small child grab something off a shelf. It took a moment for her daughter to free the prize, but once she did, she began to toddle over, running as fast as her little legs could carry her, toothy grin on her face.

"His name is Fuzzy, Mommy," she grinned, looking upwards at her as if her daughter was speaking some self-evident truth.

"Of course she is Kathrine," she ruffled her daughter's hair, and Kathrine beamed even more.

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"Kathrine, stop this!" Jacob got another splash of water to his face for his protest. Bathtime was never an easy time. For most families, it was getting their kid into the bathtub. Kathrine?

Kathrine took to water far better than any kid her age should. No, getting her into the bath was never the problem. It was getting her hair washed. For all Kathrine's love of water, she wouldn't submerge herself. Getting it above her head? She would resist. A lot.

Another shout of defiance went out from the tub, as her husband rubbed the water off his glasses.

"I swear, the time she's old enough to bath herself cannot come fast enough," he scowled, shaking his hair. She just shook her head, chuckling all the while.

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She watched her Grandaughters legs swing back and forth. Her arms were locked around two stuffed animals. One a plush triceratops, the other a rainbow covered elephant.

"Nervous?" She asked her, looking down at the three-year-old. "You're mother's going to be just fine." Her legs didn't stop, and she muttered something into her stuffed animals, nearly clutching them against her face.

"I'm not going to get a sister."

The older of the two frowned. That was uncharacteristic. She'd been ecstatic for months about having a younger sister. Why was she suddenly acting like she wasn't?

"I thought you always wanted a sister?" she ruffled her granddaughter's hair, combing her fingers through the curly blonde mess.

"I want a sister. I know I'm going to get a brother," Kathrine proceeded to shove her face into her stuffed animals again, falling back into silence.

In the end, Caroline thought nothing of it, even as Joseph was born into the world.

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Ow, ow, ow! My head! How was it possible for it to hurt this much!

Had I been drinking? Was this a hangover? I swore to never touch alcohol, so I doubted it, but I was at a complete lack of other explanations. My arms pushed my body upward, only to be wracked by another lance of pain streaking through my skull.

"Sweety, are you okay?" I must have let out a yelp of pain or something, as my mom's voice echoed down the hall. A few moments later, the door to my room creaked open, flooding my space with light. My eyes squeezed shut, in some vain attempt to block out the light.

A few moments later, I felt a hand press against my forehead. Something didn't feel right. It was too big, much too big, to be my mother's hand.

"You don't seem to have a fever. Can you tell me what's wrong?" she was acting like I was a kid or something!

"Head, hurts," I ground out. It hurt to talk, hurt to think. Like there was a jackhammer crashing against my skull.

I cracked my eyes open, squinting through the light. I could make out the faint outline of my mother, a shadowy block surrounded by rays of pain. Red hair swirled behind her, looking longer, without some of the gray that had begun to weave its way in.

"I see. I'll call the school, and tell them you aren't going in today," she made her way towards the door, flipping off the light switch as she went. "You just get some rest, okay?"

School? What was she talking about? It was the middle of summer, and even if I wasn't, I was in college!

Another lance of agony ripped it's way through my skull, extinguishing that line of thought.

Sleep sounded good.

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I was unsure how much time I spent resting. Everything felt like a semi-lucid blur. By the time I returned to my senses, my headache had retreated somewhat. It still throbbed with pain, but I was at least able to take stock of my situation.

I gazed around the room. Despite that dark purple lined the walls, with brightly colored flowers painted on it, I still recognized it. The doors to both the closet and the rest of the house were in the same location, as were the windows.

It didn't matter if the room was the most stereotypical girl's room ever, I still recognized it for what it was.

This was my room.

I winced as another lance of pain shot through my brain. A voice at the back of my mind shouted that it wasn't my room. That it was her room. Katherine's room.

Wait, no! I wasn't Katherine! Ow! Fuck! Brain! Stop!

Just because I looked like a child, doesn't mean I was one!

I felt a coppery taste on my tongue as I bit down to keep myself from screaming in pain. Screw you! This was my house! This was my room! This is my body! I wasn't a small child! And my name wasn't Kathrine!

This time, I screamed in pain, leg's curling up against my chest. My hands clutched my forehead, fingers grabbing at hair that was longer than it was ever was.

No, this wasn't my body. I was a man in my twenties, not a preteen girl! This couldn't be my body!

The pain relented, the hammering of the nail through my brain subsiding. I cranked my eyes back open, whipping away the trickle of blood that ran down my lips. Gingerly, I placed my feet on the floor, feeling the carpet curl its way around my toes. A few steps took me to the window, grasping the curtains, before pulling them aside.

I hissed in pain, the sun burning at my eyes for a brief moment. As they finally adjusted to the rays, I gazed ahead.

It was the same. My neighborhood, the place where I grew up. It was the exact damn same! I threw the curtain back over the window in an attempt to block out the cursed image.

What the hell! What the actual fuck is going on! My mom was younger. I was younger, and I was a girl! I began to pace, stepping back and forth across the carpet in a room that was and wasn't mine.

Okay, think. What was the last thing I remembered? Before I woke up?

I fell to a knee, a burning shot of pain burrowing its way through my skull. I couldn't. I was at home, avoiding the plague, but that was all I could recall.

Another shudder of pain ran its way through my body. I couldn't remember. But Kathrine? The girl that had taken my place? She could.

Fire screamed in my skull.

I wasn't sure if I passed out in my bed, or I just collapsed on the floor.

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"Sweety, are you alright?" a voice broke through my dreamless sleep, finally causing me to stir. My hand reached for my head, prepared for another agonizing headache.

Rather than the lance of pain, I felt nothing. No, not nothing. I couldn't quite explain it. Acceptance, maybe?

"I'm fine mom," I tried to keep my voice as tired and exhausted as possible. It wasn't hard. Even if I spent the entire day passed out, I was probably about to fall over. I was just drained, sapped of any strength. "Just tired still."

A frown grew on my mother's face. "If you're sure, sweety. Do you think you'll be able to join us for dinner?"

At the mention of food, my stomach let out a rumble of protest. Mom chuckled, giggling at my now embarrassed face.

"Dinner will be in thirty minutes. Please don't try to sleep until bedtime," I nodded at my mother's words as she left my room, not trusting myself to give the game up. As the door closed, I slumped against the pillow, closing my eyes and rubbing my head.

This situation sucked. I'm not sure how I ended up like this, what could easily be more than a decade in the past and the wrong gender to boot. But even if I did, I wouldn't be able to solve it. Which meant I was stuck here. As Kathrine.

A what, six, seven-year-old? No, six. Wait, how did I? Oh. She'd, I'd had our birthday just last week. I let myself rollover, nearly bumping my head against a plush animal. I gently grabbed at the dark mass, pulling it closer to my face.

Fuzzy?

She, I, still got Fuzzy? I squeezed the stuffed triceratops as close to my chest as possible. She still convinced mom to buy her this? Why? Her interests had to be different than mine. Why would she seek out a stuffed animal I had owned?

It would only work if she had my memories. Maybe just vague recollections. I don't know.

But, even if I didn't know-how, I knew what it meant. We were the same.

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No. Please, stop! Leave us alone!

We were still useful! We could still fight! We can still serve!

Despite the screams of pain from my sisters and me, the men around us paid no heed to our protests.

Blowtorches peeled back skin, bones were torn out, stomach drained of food.

Screams and protests rang out around, in a vain attempt to hold back fate.

Eventually, my voice fell silent. There was nothing we could say that would change their mind. Our time had ended. For the last time, my eyes closed.

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A strangled scream died in my throat, body covered in sweat. Blankets flew off my body as I bolded upright, breathing harsh and ragged. What time was it?

Actually, no, I didn't want to know. This was probably some forsaken hour. I slumped down, falling back into my pillows warm embrace. After a few minutes, my breathing began to steady, as did my pounding heart.

Okay, what the hell was up with this dream? I wasn't a stranger to abnormal or otherwise weird nightmares. Hell, I had quite vivid memories of being chased around the neighborhood being chased by a tornado. A human tornado.

But this? Not only did this feel real, but it was also a dream I've had at least three separate times. Repeat dreams were rare for me, and what few times I'd gotten them, it was usually a two-time event.

So what the hell was going on with this?

I let out a stretch and a yawn. This wasn't the time for this. I had school tomorrow, after all.

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Her feet shifted. This was their first parent-teacher conference. Their first one since the change. Normally, their daughter was energetic, an absolute handful. They had trouble getting her to read books, and do not interrupt conversations.

Now? Her personality was near 180. Kathrine was extremely quiet, spending most of her time with her face shoved in some book, oftentimes well above what she should have been able to reasonably read. She'd seen her daughter reading Harry Potter. Sure, it was a book series still awaiting completion, but she was in the first grade.

School was also a topic that had changed. Normally, when asked about how school went, Kathrine would babble on for hours at a time. Then she just started referring to 'the usual', 'fine', and other one-word answers.

It had filled her with concern. Was her daughter being bullied?

"I have to admit, I'm a bit surprised. I can see why Kathrine is such a good student," the young lady smiled, laying out a folder full of drawings, quizzes, and other numerous classwork papers. "Not only does your daughter have some of the best grades in the entire class, but she also tends to cause the least amount of trouble."

Loren let out a breath she wasn't even aware she was holding.

"My only possible complaint is that she doesn't interact with her classmates much," the teacher said, as Loren sharply took in-breath again. "She isn't being bullied or anything, to my knowledge. Kathrine said she just finds her peers annoying, and immature."

Loren blinked. Immature? They were six to seven years old!

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My head was underwater. Submerged. My limbs flailed about, finally grabbing hold of the offending arm.

"Stop dunking me, you jerk! I shouted as I burst to the surface, kicking away the asshole. He laughed, as my eyes narrowed. Oh, it was so hard to bite back the curses I'd drop on him. I hate you. I hate you beyond words can describe you piece of shit. I don't care if it was an actual lifetime ago, you made my elementary school life a living hell.

I didn't understand why when our respective mothers wanted to hang out, they dragged us along with them. Maybe it was because we were the same age?

"You should have seen the look on your face," he howled cackling like the hyena he was.

"You should see the look on your face when I'm done punching it," I ground out, fingers clenching into a fist. No. I'm not dealing with two lifetimes of your shit.

"My nose has been replaced by a titanium plate. You'd just hurt yourself," he said, lying through his teeth, as easily as he breathed. Yeah, you tried that shit the last time too.

"So I've been told," my eyes narrowed. He blinked as if taken by surprise for a moment.

"I never told you that before," his face grew confused, an expression I will always treasure. I took that moment to punch him in the face.

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I had an hour's worth of time-out when I got home, forced to face the corner.

Still worth it.

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I kept my eyes on the TV as I made my way up the stairs. My parents always watched nine O'clock news. I frowned, watching the initial bid of international news. Another missing ship? That's what? The sixth this week? I scowled, digging back into my memory as far as it went. This didn't seem right.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

If I had paid attention in the past, I would know it wasn't right. It wasn't right at all. None of the vessels should have gone missing.

But I hadn't. Ultimately, I was forced to shrug off the unfortunate events and unfortunate circumstances.

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The ground shook. Bombs exploded with tremendous force, turning buildings into rubble. Underground, in a basement turned bomb-shelter, my family waited out the bombardment. Each shake, there was a jump of fear. And with it, any chance of this being me being transferred to some wacky gender-bent version of my previous life.

Mom's arms were wrapped around me so tight they hurt, a near-death squeeze around my stomach. I couldn't blame her. I was horrified. This wasn't supposed to be happening. These things, that crawled out of the ocean, and began slaughtering people across the world shouldn't exist.

The US military had scrambled against the new threat. Airforce, Navy, and Army. All of it marshaled against an enemy, unlike anything we'd ever seen before. It wasn't much better. The navy lost dozens of vessels trying to defend the coastlines. Fighters were lost by the hundreds. Ground troops? What do you think a tank is going to do against a ship?

It wasn't to say we didn't have victories. The Mississippi River, for example, had been fortified, after an attack force tried to use it as a means to attack America's interior. But what victories we had were bloody.

But there were rumblings of something new entering the fray. Human ships. The first allegedly appeared off the coast of Japan. Another appeared just off the west coast.

I would normally be suspicious of such rumors. But if Abyssal's were real? Why wouldn't shipgirls?

Another blast quaked the earth. A bomb had fallen closer to our house this time.

And in my heart, I felt the flicker of fire.

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"Kathrine! Keep up the pace!" I rolled my eyes but increased my pace, all the same, my feet slapping against the track. Running was a hobby I'd picked up before, I, well, this all happened. I'd done my best to apply the lessons I'd learned in my previous life here. Exercise and eat healthy, and keep good study habits. Not to mention all the social lessons I learned and reinforced.

Sure, my friend circle was fairly similar. I was still a nerd at heart after all. But I was far better than I was, less prone to react to every single small thing. The advantages of having twenty-something odd years of social experience.

But on to that running thing. I decided to do something new. I'd pretty much spent my life doing the same things. Well, mostly. I was trying out for track and field. Ever since the Abyssal attack, I'd retaken up running with my mother. Both as a means of keeping in shape, but also getting stronger.

I planned on joining the Navy.

Normally, I wouldn't consider the military a carrier path I'd take. It just wasn't for me. Plus, my glasses, which yes, I still had, turning into a girl had done nothing to fix my eyesight. And there was, well, not to beat around the bush, a few other issues.

However, I now felt compelled. America, no, all of humanity was facing an extinction-level event. Abbsyals wanted us dead. All of us. If that wasn't something worth fighting against, then I had no idea what was.

But that required me to get into better shape. Maybe even joining the cross country team when I got into high school.

"Good job! You managed to beat your previous time!" Our coach shouted at me as sweat poured down my face like rain. And people wondered why I brought such a huge bottle of water. "Think you're good for another lap?"

I took another swig of water from my half-gallon jug, before placing it on the ground.

"Yes ma'am," I wasn't lying. Sure, I was producing enough sweat to drown a person, and my lungs felt like they were on fire, but at the end of the day?

I couldn't have felt more alive.

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"I'm telling you, if there are any two shipgirls in a relationship, it's Hood and Bismarck," I picked out the noise from the other side of the lunchroom. Even in this life, Jacob was very much the same energetic and loud person he'd always been.

"Sup, nerds," I teased on the approach, sitting down at my typical spot at the table.

"Speak for yourself, you're one of us. Just because you're on the cross country team, doesn't make you less of a dork," Jacqueline nodded her head, taking another bite out of her meal.

"Or any less of a shipgirl nerd," Jacob fired back as I rolled my eyes.

"Yes, keeping a pulse on important information related to my career path makes me a nerd," I snarked back at him as he let out a hardy laugh, overwhelming the chatter surrounding us. "After all, I'm not the one who's shipping living beings with those who murdered them in a previous life."

"She's got a point with that one," Keith pointed out from behind his laptop, before returning to plucking away at the keys. I wondered what he was working on, but knowing him, it was related to the next round of D&D torture the party would likely reverse onto him.

"Hey, it's not my fault I'm speaking the truth here! It's like shipgirl flirting or something, right?" there was a brief pause in the air before it was filled with the sound of multiple palms smacking foreheads, as Jacob looked around at us, confused.

"If that were the case, Enterprise would be inundated, stuck at the bottom of a giant pile, rather than dating Yamato," Nathen elbowed Jacob, rolling his eyes.

"Wait, I heard rumors that Yamato was dating a librarian," Jacqueline's head cocked to the side, puzzled.

"It would be impossible to keep anything of that caliber straight in the first place," I let out a snort at Keith's unknowing joke. He shot me a glare of annoyance. "Not what I meant and you know it, Kathrine."

"Discerning fiction from reality when it comes to shipgirls can be quite difficult. Submarines enjoy being underwater, however, most shipgirls will avoid such exposure. If forced underwater, panic attacks tend to ensure," Keith continued.

"That sounds like a certain someone I'm familiar with," Jacob cut in, with my eyes narrowing to slits.

"I don't like having my head underwater, okay," I crossed my arms away, trying my best to hide the flush of embarrassment that grew it's way across my face, doing my best to annoy the chuckles of laughter.

Gym class sucked!

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"We really should go back to Disney World," I almost did a double-take to check if I had the right house. Ever since the Abyssal's first appeared, Disney World, my family's traditional vacation spot was off the table. There, my brother had gotten sick of the place, but here? It's more than five years since we last went.

"Joseph, it's simply too dangerous. I'd love to take you and your sister back before she graduates, but until the Abyssal's are gone, it's simply not happening," mom chided my younger sibling. Who was again, taller than I was. He sprouted up like a bean stock, while I was even shorter. 5'5 was not intimidating, even with my muscle.

"Come' on, sis, back me up here," my brother whined, actually whined, about getting to go to Disney World. I chuckled at the reversal of our traditional rolls, a private joke, rubbing the sweat off my face with the towel around my neck.

"Leave me out of this," I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, downing it in a few gulps.

"You keep an eye on the reports. When was the last time the Abyssal's have struck Florida?" my bother asked, crossing his arms. Even though he was taller than I was, I wasn't phased by his looming. What I was annoyed by was the fact he stole my height, my birthright as oldest!

"I know what you're trying to do," my eyes narrowed. "Anything I say at this point is just taunting Murphy."

"You and you're Murphy's law nonsense. Just tell me," I rolled my eyes. I did want to go to Disney too. Two lifetimes hadn't been quite enough.

"Two years. Four and a half, if you consider that those were long-range Atlantic based strike groups. There has no major attack on Florida since the Abyssal fleet was driven out the Gulf of Mexico," I rattled off, taking another sip of water.

"See! Even the shipgirl nut thinks it's safe!" water exited my mouth like a geyser, coughing loudly.

"Firstly, just because I keep a pulse on what shipgirl's are doing, doesn't make me a nut," I sputtered defensively, "Secondly, that's not what I said at all." I was going to have to clean off the table, wasn't I?

"Sounds like it to me," I shot him a glare.

"I said it was statistically unlikely. I never said it was safe," I ground out, annoyed. Just because I was shorter than you didn't mean I couldn't knock you on your ass.

"Tomato, tamato," he waved his hand dismissively. I growled. This. This is why we didn't get along.

"Kathrine. Shower. Now." mom ordered before the two of us could start shouting at each other. "We'll discuss this more at dinner."

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And that's how my family and I ended up on our first return trip to Florida.

We weren't landing in Orlando, either. Orlando, like most of Florida, had been hit hard, and much of the state was focused on rebuilding. Airports, while a necessity for the military, were no expectation. Given how much harder international traffic was, as going over any large body of water was effectively suicide, rebuilding the airport in Orlando was put on the backburner.

It was simply too large and expensive to repair, and what had been was more frequently used to transport goods or troops. A location not too far from the frontline, without being directly near the water's edge. Instead, we were landing at a smaller airport further north, and would simply rent a vehicle and make the rest of our journey that way.

Not to say I didn't protest the decision, but my brother and father somehow convinced mom to go along with the insanity.

I shook my head, shoving my face back into the game I was playing. Honestly, I couldn't wait to stretch and move around, at least for a bit. The hour car ride was going to be fun, let me tell you.

Suddenly, the plane lurched in the air, sending me bouncing out of my seat, my device nearly flying from my grasp. I heard a few squeaks and grumbles from the other passengers, as I began to fasten the seatbelt.

It was fine. Just some turbulence is all. My eyes shifted to the window, spotting what looked like a small black cloud pass by. Looking further down, across the ground and out to sea, I saw a flash. Seconds later the plane rocked again.

Not turbulence. Not turbulence at all.

"Uh," I was about to grab my dad's attention, pointing to him that we were presently being shot at, in some desperate attempt to calm my panicking nerves.

"This is the captain speaking," the intercom burst to life as my foot began to vibrate. "As a result of complications, we will be making an emergency landing. We are sorry for the inconvenience this may cause, but it is for the safety of our passengers. Thank you for your time."

"I wonder that was about," I sent my father a look as the plane shook even more violently.

"It might have something to do with that," I couldn't stop my voice from breaking, the vibrating of my foot picking up speed as I tried to burn off the growing sense of dread.

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"Please, exit the plane in a calm and orderly fashion," the loudspeaker continued to blare throughout the plane. I doubted anyone was listening. My family sure wasn't. But we were caught in the rush of people, which had slowed to a crawl. By this point, I was practically bouncing in place. It helped the panic from setting in. It helped me stop thinking. It helped me ignore the pain.

My chest hurt. My heartfelt like it was both on the verge of freezing up in fear and igniting into a raging inferno. Artillery thundered, and the first time in years, I could hear the sound of dropping bombs, their screams through the air followed by a quaking blast.

A loud crack echoed through the air, loud and close, drowning out the sound around us. For a moment, it hung in the air, before the airplane broke in half. I scream as the back half the plane skidded across the runway, struggling to keep my balance as my arms wrapped around a nearby chair. My brother and those around me had the same idea, as we finally skidded to a stop. Even then, I kept my death grip on the seat, afraid to let go as my knuckles turned white.

I looked behind me as others struggled to get to their feet. Further in the back, I could see my parents slowly standing back up. They weren't hurt, thank goodness.

But, what caused that? Planes just don't break apart like that.

"Sis, whatever you do, don't move," I heard my brother speak, his voice barely a faint whisper.

I couldn't stop myself, I turned towards the opening, only to freeze up completely. It looked like a deformed dog. Stubby legs that shouldn't allow it to fit on land. A head several times too large, with jaws to match.

My heart froze completely, caught halfway through a beat. Its eyes were on me, staring, unblinking, unfeeling. People were screaming behind me, panicking, rushing for any emergency exit they could find. I was numb to it all, gaze fixed ahead at the monster that would certainly be the death of me.

I was going to die here. On this airplane. And everyone else was going to follow. My brother. My mother. My father. Everyone on this plane was dead. We couldn't outrun it, we couldn't fight it. It's maw widened, revealing the gun hidden inside to the entire world. It would kill all of us.

Something began to burn. I could feel heat roar. Had someone set a fire? No, that wasn't right. I couldn't smell smoke, couldn't hear the crackle of flames. It was, inside of me?

It was. I could feel it. I didn't know what it meant. Maybe I was going crazy, madness induced by my coming final moments. Perhaps.

Or maybe, just maybe, nobody was dying today.

The destroyer fired, screams drowned out by the powerful discharge as the shot rocketed towards my frame. At that moment, my heart ceased its beat.

And fire took its place. Boilers rumbled to life, shaking off decades of cobwebs to ignite once more. Systems, ancient and neglected, came online for the first time in ages. Within my hull crew stirred, called back to uphold their oath and duty once more. Armor formed on my skin, steel to turn aside enemy shells. Firing crews shouted their affirmation as decades-old weapons came back as green.

Metal screamed in protest, quickly giving way to my new bulk sending my crashing into the tarmac below. Rigging fell into place as I turned, bringing as much of my armament to bear.

"All guns. Open fire!"

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