Faint. Ghost-like. A hum echoed inside my bones.

  System Notification:

  [Core Initialization Complete]

  [Design Your Domain]

  Then the energy? Was that the right word, I thought. Well, the energy began to pull. It started in my chest. It felt like a tug, deep and sharp, like a thread pulling me out from the inside. I gasped, but there wasn’t any air, just motion. Speed. I was falling, not down, but through something. The world twisted around me in a spiral of white-blue light, like a whirlpool made of stars and half-formed terrain, all lines and shimmer.

  But I wasn’t afraid.

  I wasn’t anything I used to be.

  As I fell, glowing panels flickered into existence around me, hovering like shards of rotating glass. Lists. Menus. Choices. My new reality, waiting for me to shape it. My body buzzed, and every inch of me felt like static. Like something ancient had scraped across my bones and left heat in its wake.

  My toes brushed against something: solid, smooth. I flinched, half-expecting it to vanish, but it held. Cool and real beneath me. Slowly, I let my full weight sink down, one foot, then the other. The floating stopped. No more falling. In the blink of an eye, everything shifted. The light snapped inward like closing shutters, and suddenly I was standing in a room. Black marble walls, polished to a mirror sheen, surrounded me on all sides. Five meters wide, maybe five deep. A perfect square. No doors. No ceiling I could see. Just me, and the strange hum of something alive, just beneath the surface.

  The void hummed softly around me, the teal light clinging to my skin. I moved my hand, just a finger, and froze. Something felt… fundamentally different. More than just changed. Right.

  My body didn’t move like it used to, all awkward angles and sharp edges. I looked down slowly, half-expecting the same old familiar lines of myself: thin, flat, easily overlooked. But the shape staring back was utterly unfamiliar, almost impossibly smooth and gracefully curved.

  “Did I just become a magic girl,” I said to myself. I began to look over my new body. I was completely naked. Not just undressed but blank. Stripped bare of everything that had covered or defined me before.

  By all rights, I should’ve panicked. Should’ve screamed until my throat was raw, curled into a ball of fear and confusion. But I didn’t. The fear was a distant hum, overshadowed by the immediate, overwhelming reality of this. This body wasn’t the one I’d woken up in this morning, wasn't the one that had carried me through school, the change room, the lunchroom. It wasn’t mine. And yet… the smooth plane of my stomach, as the phantom aches of my old body faded into memory, felt more mine than anything ever had before. It felt like a possibility. My chest rose in a surprising, gentle swell beneath me, fuller than it had ever been, a soft weight I’d never known. Not huge, but undeniable. Enough to make me blink, a silent gasp escaping my lips. "That’s… new."

  Looking down at my new breasts, I could tell that they were larger. Plus, my old boobs were always uneven, for example, my right boob was always bigger than my left. On instinct, my hand lifted, my fingers trembling slightly as I cupped the soft underside of one breast. It was real. Solid, yet yielding. Definitely not the old, almost non-existent A-cup I was used to hiding. This felt like… a B, maybe? Fuller than that? My fingers curled gently, unsure how to hold something so unexpectedly lovely, so soft and warm.

  My skin was pale and flawless, eerily smooth and cool under my own touch, like a mannequin come to life, pristine and untouched.

  Then I get a little bolder, I notice that my nipples have changed as well. The colour and shapes have changed. I start with the simple, familiar feel of them between your fingers. They feel soft and a little thicker. It feels amazing, I start to get a rush of pleasure. I start twirling my fingertips around my right nipple, feeling the gentle tension build and then release. Before getting too excited I just run your fingers over my soft new skin. I am sent a rush of energy as I touch the smooth skin for the first time. I am almost overloaded with the cascade of joy I feel. There’s a quiet rhythm to it, a tactile anchor in the moment.

  Then comes the pinch. I isolate a small part of my nipple tip and press your fingers together. It's a focused pressure, a slight, grounding tug that pulls just enough to make me notice, a small point of sensation in the larger world. It’s not pain, but a distinct feeling. A controlled tension that somehow stills the buzzing noise in my head.

  In that small, self-contained action, I feel the deliberate pinch. There's a strange kind of release. It’s a simple physical input that cuts through my mental clutter, a quiet, private sensation that brings me back to my body. It’s not grand or overwhelming, but a soft settling, a moment of simple, undemanding focus. A small pocket of peace, found in the pleasure between your fingers.

  Finally, I let out a soft moan and started to breathe again. “I love these fucking tits.” Even at that moment, I am shocked by the change that has come over me. Back at home, I never masturbated or explored my body. I hated it because of all the bullying and teasing. Even when I had a boyfriend, I couldn’t understand why he enjoyed feeling up my flat chest. However, I felt reborn. Anew.

  Enjoying the newfound me, without the fear of my bullies or the loneliness of an empty home I let my desires continue to flood. Curiosity, bolder than fear, unfurled inside me. I shifted back slightly on the black stone floor and ran a tentative hand along the sudden, flowing curve of my hips. Then further, tracing the line down and around, over my ass.

  I actually laughed then, a quiet, disbelieving snort that sounded strange in the silence. "No way." I started to smile, for the first time in what felt like years.

  “Haha, flat Eathers eat your heart out. The world is round!” My ass wasn’t flat anymore. It wasn’t just… there. For the first time in my life, my butt actually had a shape, a roundness that filled my hand, firm and smooth under my touch. There was a curve there now. A real, fucking tangible ass. Something sculpted from memory, perhaps, but with a careful, loving hand that smoothed out all the things I used to hate, all the sharp angles and perceived flaws. It felt… perfect.

  Well, I thought, and I shifted my hands to my front. “When in Rome,” I said to myself and kept exploring.

  Then it hit me like a sudden, bright wave breaking over my head. One second I am just there, moving through my simple exploration, and the next, it washes over me, undeniable and exhilarating. First, there's a physical jolt. My breath catches, giving me a little gasp I didn't intend. My heart doesn't just beat faster, it surges, a quick, powerful drum against my ribs. Followed by a lightness that spreads through my chest, a warmth blossoming outwards like sunlight under my skin. My limbs feel suddenly energized, even a little tingly.

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  Mentally, it's like a curtain being yanked back, letting in blinding light. Everything sharpens. The colours seem brighter, sounds clearer. The world suddenly feels full of brilliant possibilities. A wide, unstoppable smile pulls at my lips, and a moan bubbles up, unbidden. It's an overwhelming sense of rightness, of pure, unadulterated happiness that lifts me, making me feel lighter than air, capable of anything. It's brief, fleeting, but while it lasts, it's absolute, a perfect, exhilarating flood.

  “I just… fucking… hell. What the fuck,” I said with a smile. “Add that to the firsts today.”

  I fall to the ground, the rush leaving my body. I caught my reflection in the polished marble. It was just a flicker but it was enough to make me pause. My skin. Smooth. Clear. Not a single pimple, scar, or angry red bump. I leaned in, running my fingers over my cheek like I didn’t quite believe it. Gone. All of it. I was eighteen, almost 19 my birthday was in July, when Kiley shoved me into the street, but this body? It looked twenty-something. Older. Hotter. Like, model-in-a-magic-fantasy kind of hot. A solid ten. Maybe more. For the first time in my life, I didn’t just feel seen; I felt powerful.

  Then my eyes caught a flicker of colour against the pale canvas of my skin. Between my breasts, right over my sternum, embedded like a jewel cracked through glass, was a small, multifaceted crystal. Shards of stained-glass light radiated out from it across my chest, a delicate, intricate pattern of blues, purples, and reds, the colours pulsing softly, gently, with each breath I took. It didn’t hurt, but it looked permanent, beautiful and strange, like a brand.

  That’s when I noticed the rest of me.

  No scars anywhere on my body, not the raised lines on my arms, not the faint marks on my knees. “All my cutting. It is gone?” Could that be one of the reasons I feel the way I do, or did the system change more than just my body? Am I still me? But then I felt the surge of the memories hit me, and the pain was still there; however, I felt something new.

  I went to run my hands through my blonde hair, but it was gone. No hair either, I looked all over my new body. No hair. Not on my arms, legs, not anywhere.

  That was when a new system notification flashed before my eyes.

  The pure, breathtaking joy of exploring this new body didn’t last forever. It couldn't. It was too bright, too sharp a contrast to the low thrum of everything that came before. The familiar, heavy weight of memory started to creep back. It wasn’t a rush, not like the joy; it was a slow, cold tide, washing over me, bringing the debris of the past with it.

  My new skin was still perfect, smooth and unmarked beneath my fingers, the curves a startling, beautiful reality. The crystal between my breasts pulsed softly, a gentle warmth against my skin. I was still naked, vulnerable in a way that would have sent the old me spiralling, but this body didn’t carry the same shame. Not physically, anyway. But the mind… the mind remembered.

  “My scars are deeper than the skin,” I whisper. In that moment I missed my notebook Hannah had laughed at and destroyed.

  The lunchroom silence where laughter should have been. The prickling heat of imagined eyes. Coach Reid’s voice, was sharp and dismissive. Mr. Davidson making me feel useless and stupid. Kiley’s easy cruelty, the laughter that followed her words like a shadow, the pain of hitting the gym floor. The sting of the knees, the burn in my throat. Brooklyn’s shove against the lockers, the metallic clang echoing the word she spat—whore—and the way it stuck, cold and dirty. Remembering the word, whore, made me feel dirty for having my first orgasm.

  Trying to clear my mind, I remembered my Mom’s text messages, brief and careless, the taste of canned soup already on my tongue. The constant, grinding ache of being overlooked, misunderstood, and deliberately hurt. It all came flooding back, a tide of gray dragging at the edges of the teal light.

  I was still sitting on the floor, my legs crossed loosely, my hands resting on my thighs, feeling the impossibly smooth skin. My new body was here, free and powerful, but the why I needed it crashed down on me with brutal clarity. I hadn't just needed to feel beautiful or strong for myself. I needed it to fight back.

  Suddenly, the air in front of me shimmered again, brighter than before, accompanied by a soft, digital chime. Another interface materialized, not pixelated like the last, but sleek and shimmering, projected onto the void itself.

  SYSTEM NOTIFICATION:[Core Room Established – Identity: Chloe's Domain] The dungeon’s heart reflects your soul. Begin construction by selecting an option.

  Below the message, text began to scroll, a massive, seemingly endless list of words, phrases, and concepts. Thousands. Tens of thousands. They flew past too fast to read at first, a blur of potential choices. As I watched, mesmerized and slightly terrified, they slowed, resolving into distinct options that hovered and shifted, waiting for me to choose.

  My dungeon. My domain. The heart of my power. It was meant to reflect my soul.

  My soul felt less like the perfect, smooth body I now inhabited and more like the bruised, scarred thing the Goddess had called "broken." My soul felt like the silent screams swallowed in the changing room, the lonely meals in the lunchroom, and the sharp sting of betrayal from the people who should have cared.

  I saw some basic options: Dragons, Goblins, Demons, Dinosaurs, Water, Fire, Earth…

  As my eyes scanned the impossible list, the words seemed to blur with the faces, the moments, the slights, the deep, cutting wounds.

  Rejection. There was an option for Domain of Rejection. I saw Kiley’s sneering face and heard her laughter.

  Abandonment. There was a Domain of Abandonment. I saw my mother’s casual text, the empty house waiting for me.

  Shame. Domain of Shame. I felt the heat on my cheeks in the changing room, the way I pulled my shirt down, and the memory of carving escape routes into my skin.

  Weakness. Domain of Weakness. Coach Reid’s disappointed glare, the whispers behind me on the track.

  Despair. Domain of Despair. The low throb in my chest, the feeling of being utterly alone, the counting of the minutes until it was over.

  They had built their power on my pain, their laughter on my humiliation. They had taken pieces of me, chipped away at who I was until I felt small and broken. But this place… this void… this system… it was giving me the tools to build. And what did a cracked soul, filled with longing, hurt, and despair, want to build?

  Not a sanctuary. Not a place of healing.

  It wanted to build a consequence. A reckoning. A place where someone else would experience the cruelty I felt. I wanted them to shatter. I wanted to build my power on their fear, just like Kiley, Brooklyn and Hannah did to me. My eyes lingered on options, different facets of the darkness they had shown me. Domain of Isolation. Domain of Mockery. Domain of Betrayal. Each one is a perfect reflection of a wound.

  And a perfect weapon.

  A cold, sharp resolve began to set in, replacing the fleeting joy with my feelings of heavy sadness. This wasn't just about surviving anymore. It was about striking back. They had walked through my life like it was their playground, leaving footprints of pain. Now, they would walk through my playground. My rules. My vengeance.

  My eyes narrowed, scanning the list, searching for the perfect reflection of the darkness they had forced me to carry. The options scrolled on, thousands upon thousands, each a potential foundation for the retribution building inside me. I sat naked in the teal light, the silence filled only by the soft hum of the system and the hardening beat of my own heart, choosing the shape of the storm I was about to unleash.

  Then I heard the eye whisper to me in the back of my mind. A wicked smile spread across my lips.

  The perfect idea came to me.