Alex bolted down the hallway, bare feet pounding the wooden floor as his heart slammed in his chest. He didn't even notice the framed photos rattling on the walls as he tore past them, nor the slight tremble in his knees. His only thought was getting to his room—and shutting the world out.
He threw himself through the doorway and slammed the door shut behind him with a shaky hand, pressing his back against it as though expecting someone—or something—to chase him.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck."
The word looped in his mind, a mantra of panic. He felt like he was unraveling at the seams, breath quick and uneven, chest heaving as his mind tried—and failed—to process what he'd just seen. What he was.
His reflection had betrayed him. His own body had betrayed him.
How did this happen?
His thoughts scrambled like static. Magic? A curse? Some ex-girlfriend playing a sick joke? No—he hadn't dated anyone capable of that. He was practically a nobody.
Then who? And why?
A sharp knock on the door cut through the noise in his head.
Alex froze.
Sarah.
Oh god. Had she seen him? Had she heard him scream?
He scrambled across the room, grabbing the first clothes he could find—a loose t-shirt and an old pair of sweats. The shirt clung awkwardly in places it hadn't before, and the waistband of the pants barely stayed on his now-smaller frame. But it would have to do.
The knock came again. Quieter this time.
But… something was off.
There was no voice. No concerned sibling rushing him. No "Are you okay?" or "Hurry up, we're gonna be late!"
Just silence.
Alex hesitated for a second before unlocking the door and slowly pulling it open.
Standing in the hallway was… a girl.
Not Sarah.
She looked young—maybe around his age—with an innocent expression that felt deliberately placed, like a mask. Her purple hair was tied into a messy bun, strands falling over her forehead. She wore a baggy, stained hoodie that looked like it had seen better decades, and faded jeans with more holes than fabric. Dirt and exhaustion clung to her like perfume.
Alex barely had time to register the strangeness of her appearance before she lunged forward and shoved him back into his room.
He hit the floor hard, the air knocking from his lungs as he scrambled backward, eyes wide.
"I've killed beings for less," the girl hissed, her tone sharp and unwavering.
Alex coughed and held a hand to his ribs, trying to gather his breath. "How did you get in here?" he gasped. "What did you do to my sister?"
The girl paused.
Her expression, once threatening, shifted into something unreadable—calm, detached, almost bored.
She sighed. "Relax, drama queen. I didn't do anything to her." She stepped back and rolled her shoulders casually. "She found me asleep on your couch this morning. Hoodie up. She thought I was one of your friends. Even made me breakfast."
She giggled at the memory, her voice light and sweet—a contrast to the tension in the room. "Sweet kid. Pancakes were a little undercooked, but I'm not complaining."
Alex didn't move. Didn't blink.
His mind reeled. She followed me? When? Why? The revelation hit him like a second blow—she'd been there, at the park, watching. While he cried at the well. While he made that wish. Something deep in his gut told him she was dangerous. That smile didn't reach her eyes.
She cocked her head and continued, "As for how I got here—yeah, I followed you last night. From the park. You were making quite the scene at the wishing well."
Alex's breath caught.
The way she said it—calmly, almost playfully—was terrifying. Her casual admission that she had followed him, watched him break down at the wishing well, wasn't just invasive—it was dangerous. He was exposed. Vulnerable. And she knew it.
As the words sank in, Alex instinctively shifted his weight, subtly lowering into a guarded stance—shoulders squared, foot edging back just enough for balance. He wasn't trying to provoke her, but his body was moving before his brain caught up, falling into old muscle memory from sparring drills and self-defense training. It was a defensive posture.
But she noticed.
She stepped forward slowly, like a predator testing the space between them. That sudden shove from earlier now made chilling sense. She had sensed the tension in him, the way he might resist out of fear or pride. Her aggression wasn't just a flex—it was a clear message: I see the stance. I see the doubt. Don't be stupid.
The threat wasn't random. It was calculated. A warning. A way of telling him: I'm in control here. Don't try anything.
She stepped forward slowly, pulling up her sleeves.
And that's when he saw it.
Her body shimmered faintly—a glowing purple aura bled from her skin like fire seen through fog. It pulsed with something ancient, something fierce. The air grew heavier. Alex could feel it pushing on his lungs, on his bones.
He had never felt anything like it.
Not from The Crimson Antler. Not from any hero he admired growing up.
This was something other.
She grinned.
"Oh,You wanna go?" she asked, eyes sparkling with wicked excitement.
Alex didn't answer. He didn't need to. He instinctively stepped back, his legs bumping into the edge of his bed.
She laughed softly. "Thought so."
The tension broke slightly, but the danger didn't fade. She let the aura fade from her skin like she was putting away a weapon she didn't need to use.
"Now that we've gotten past introductions," she said, stretching casually as if she hadn't just threatened to vaporize him, "we've got a lot to talk about."
Alex swallowed hard.
He had a thousand questions. But only one was burning in his chest.
Alex stood stiffly in the middle of his room, still shaken, still trying to process the whirlwind of insanity that had just unfolded in front of him. His breaths came slower now, though each one still carried a tremor. His oversized t-shirt clung awkwardly to his new frame, and the sweatpants threatened to slide down if he didn't keep one hand tugging them up.
Here he was—body swapped, cornered, and having a conversation with a potentially homicidal couch squatter glowing with godlike power.
At this point, it was almost laughable.
He let out a sigh, raised one hand in surrender, and said in a flat voice, "Look, I don't really have anything valuable since I sold everything I did own to pay for two funerals. But… if you want, I could give you my baseball cards?"
The words just sort of... slipped out.
A beat of silence passed. The girl stared at him, face unreadable.
Alex shifted nervously.
Was that a mistake?
But then, finally, she broke. A small snort escaped her lips, followed by a soft giggle. She covered her mouth with her hand, shoulders shaking slightly with amusement.
"I'm not here to steal anything, Alex," she said between laughs. "If anything, I'm here to answer the questions I figured you'd have."
Alex blinked.
I knew it!
His eyes widened and he rushed forward with a flurry of words.
"So you're the one that turned me into a woman? Why? Did I do something to you? Was it a punishment? Some divine karma? Were you cursed and I touched something I shouldn't have?!"
He rattled off question after question, the pent-up anxiety and confusion pouring out of him like a dam breaking—until she raised a single finger and spoke over him.
"Didn't you make a wish?" she asked calmly.
That single line hit like a brick.
Alex froze. His thoughts crashed into a wall.
"Wait…" he muttered, voice trembling. "You… heard that?"
He staggered back, legs weak beneath him, lowering himself to sit on the edge of his bed. The pressure in his chest returned—sharp, suffocating.
His hands shook. Tears pooled at the corners of his eyes and finally spilled over.
His life had officially been upended. How could he explain this to Sarah? How could he even face her like this?
The weight of everything—the grief, the transformation, the unknown—pressed down like a collapsing roof.
The girl sighed loudly and walked over to him. Her casual energy faded.
"Listen," she said firmly. "You're starting to jump to conclusions, and it's getting frustrating. So just... sit down and shut up for a second."
Alex looked up at her through teary eyes, stunned into silence.
She crossed her arms and gave him a look that could've scolded the gods.
"You humans," she began, "have a nasty habit of begging for things and thinking there's no price to be paid. You wish for love, for strength, for happiness—but you never think about the cost."
She slowly paced the room as she spoke, her voice shifting—no longer bratty or sarcastic, but cool, matter-of-fact, almost ancient in tone.
"Everything is an exchange. Nothing in this world is free. Not even dreams."
Alex swallowed, each word she spoke cutting through the fog of his mind like a scalpel.
He sat silently, staring at his hands—hands that didn't even look like his anymore.
The girl turned to face him again, her expression softening just slightly.
"I granted you the ability to use my power," she said. "Or to be more specific—I'm sharing my power with you."
Alex's eyes lifted slowly.
Wait… she's saying that…
He stared at her glowing aura, still faint but ever-present, and felt something stir deep inside him—a question far more terrifying than why.
What exactly had he wished for?
Alex sat frozen on the edge of his bed, the faint glow from the girl's aura still lingering in the air like static. Her words echoed in his head: I'm sharing my power with you.
He blinked slowly, trying to wrap his head around it.
Share her power?
What did that even mean? Was she some kind of deity? He'd never heard of a hero who could lend their strength to someone else, let alone someone who could do so casually.
His brow furrowed, his mind swimming with new questions, each one crashing into the next like waves in a storm.
But before he could speak, she tilted her head and smiled—like she could see right through him.
"You look like you've got questions," she said, her voice light. "And like I said, I'm here to answer some of them. But first, let's be clear: I'm a powerful being. Not many can stand toe-to-toe with me."
Alex raised a skeptical brow, his face betraying his thoughts before he could filter them. His eyes flicked to her stained hoodie, her messy hair, the faint smell of street life lingering in the air.
Really?
She squinted, caught the look, and scoffed dramatically. "What? I am! Don't let the hoodie fool you. Even powerful beings like myself have to follow rules."
She crossed her arms and pouted slightly, clearly annoyed but not actually offended. Then, with a little shake of her head, she composed herself and leaned back against the wall.
"Up until now," she said, her tone suddenly more serious, "you've lived in what you think is the real world. But that's far from the truth. The world is vast. It's layered. And you can't begin to comprehend the kinds of powers lurking in the dark."
She sighed and finally pushed herself off the wall, stepping across the room with deliberate ease. Without asking, she reached past Alex and pulled the chair out from his desk, dragging it closer until it was directly across from him.
She dropped into the seat, resting her elbows on her knees and looking him dead in the eye.
"For a long time," she continued, "my job was simple: hold authority. Make sure nothing disrupted the balance in your world—the lives of you humans. I wasn't supposed to get involved. Just watch. Intervene only when necessary."
She leaned back, her expression shifting—more thoughtful now.
"But something changed. And now, here we are."
Alex swallowed hard, his thoughts tumbling faster than he could catch them. He suddenly realized his wish had put him in a position way over his head.
He was an insignificant piece of a much larger picture. The very idea made his stomach churn. The weight of the unknown pressed down on him until it felt like he was falling into an abyss.
"Don't worry," the girl said suddenly, breaking the silence as if she were reading the next line in a familiar book. Her voice was casual, almost amused. "I'll be right here to answer questions if you have any. Of course... it comes at a price."
Alex narrowed his eyes. That didn't sound reassuring at all. In fact, it felt like extortion.
"Or," she added, shrugging lazily, "you can just not use my power. In twenty-four hours, you'll revert back to who you were. No harm, no foul. We can pretend this never happened."
A wave of relief washed over Alex, enough to let him breathe again. But confusion quickly replaced it.
"Why didn't you start with that?" he asked, frowning. "Do you get a kick out of delivering bad news first?"
"Hey! I need to make a living too!" the girl snapped back defensively, raising her hands as if she were being unfairly judged.
Alex tilted his head. What? That line threw him completely off. He stared at her, trying to piece it together.
"What does that mean?" he asked cautiously.
She sighed again, dramatically this time, and dropped the act. "Look, I'm going to level with you. My plan was to share my power with you. And in exchange…"
She placed her hands together sweetly and widened her eyes in mock innocence.
"…I could live here."
She struck a deliberately cute pose, trying to look charming, sweet, and harmless.
But it didn't work.
What she failed to realize was that Alex, now in a female body himself, had no patience for that particular brand of manipulation.
He blinked at her with a flat stare.
She dropped the act immediately.