The te afternoon sun cast long shadows across the Ram passenger van's windshield as Alex pulled into the driveway, the weight of his recent interaction with Michael Delgado pressing heavily on his mind. The expedition company van, typically used for transporting equipment and clients, now felt like a mobile confessional - a space where calcuted conversations echoed with unspoken tensions.

  Michael's subtle curiosity had been unmistakable. The two years of military service together had honed their ability to read between the lines, and Alex knew he'd left just enough uncertainty to trigger his friend's investigative instincts. The upcoming training weekend loomed like a potential minefield - one wrong step could expose the cybernetic modifications that now defined his physical existence.

  As he killed the engine, the van's interior settled into a heavy silence. The empty passenger seats seemed to amplify his internal conflict: how to extract himself from the National Guard without raising suspicion. A bad separation could compromise not just his own cover, but potentially expose the entire group. Medical discharge seemed the most logical path, but that required carefully orchestrated medical documentation - something Hazel Alex entered the house, the day's tensions visibly weighing on his shoulders. The familiar kitchen space greeted him, momentarily transforming his strategic concerns into something more immediate and domestic.

  Tori stood at the stove, her holographic disguise projecting her former sorority girl appearance - blonde, petite, in loose sweat pants and a sleeveless tank top. The familiar illusion masked her true six-foot-one, blue-skinned transformed self, moving with a deliberate carefulness that suggested constant vigince against revealing her actual form.

  The scent of sautéing vegetables and seasoned meat filled the air, a mundane counterpoint to the extraordinary circumstances of their existence. Tori gnced over her shoulder, her holographic image maintaining a practiced smile. "Rough day?" she asked, her voice carefully moduted to match her projected persona.

  Her question hung in the air, an invitation for Alex to unpack the complexity of his interactions with Michael Delgado and the looming challenges of the upcoming National Guard training weekend.

  was undoubtedly already preparing.

  Alex's enhanced neural interface began its standard security sweep of the property. Hazel would already be monitoring, her own systems no doubt analyzing every potential angle of risk from his interaction with Michael.

  The fundamental challenge remained: maintaining the delicate bance between his past life and his transformed existence, all while protecting the group's collective secret.

  Alex stepped into the kitchen, the day's tensions visibly weighing on his shoulders after driving the expedition company's Ram van home. He set down his keys, the metallic clink against the counter echoing his internal frustration.

  "Michael's suspicious," he said, his tone professional but tinged with concern. "The way I asked about the training weekend..."

  Tori paused her cooking, her holographic disguise shifting to convey curiosity. "What are you going to do?" she asked, her spatu hovering over the sautéing vegetables.

  "Hazel's working on potential extraction strategies," Alex replied, moving to the refrigerator to retrieve a bottle of water. "We need to find a way to get me separated from the National Guard without triggering an investigation that could expose our group."

  The holographic image of Tori continued cooking, her movements carefully maintaining the illusion of normalcy. The underlying tension of their situation hung in the air, unspoken but palpable.

  Alex smmed his fist into the granite countertop with sudden, violent force. The impact cracked the stone surface, sending a sharp, reverberating sound through the kitchen that momentarily shattered the careful calm.

  Startled by the unexpected outburst, Tori's enhanced reflexes triggered instantaneously. Her hand, still gripping the cast iron skillet's handle, contracted with superhuman strength. The metal deformed like warm butter, her fingers literally pressing through the solid metal handle as if it were soft cy. The skillet's handle twisted and warped, bearing the precise imprint of her grip.

  Her holographic disguise flickered briefly with the sudden emotional surge, the blonde sorority girl image momentarily revealing glimpses of her true blue-skinned form beneath.

  The cast iron skillet's handle, now grotesquely misshapen, fell from Tori's trembling fingers. Her holographic disguise flickered for a split second, revealing her true blue-skinned form before snapping back to the blonde sorority girl projection.

  "I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice cracking. Tears welled in her eyes, a mixture of shame and fear. "I didn't mean to—" She looked down at her transformed hand, the fingers that had effortlessly crushed solid metal, then back at the damaged countertop.

  Her body trembled, the weight of her transformation pressing down on her. "I can't even cook dinner without—" The words caught in her throat. The spatu dropped beside the deformed skillet, her hands covering her face as she struggled to control her emotions.

  Alex moved towards Tori, his movements slow and deliberate. "Hey," he said softly, "this is my fault. I startled you. It's just a pan."

  As he reached to embrace her, Tori went completely rigid. Her body tensed like a coiled spring, every enhanced muscle freezing in near-terror, as if physical contact might trigger some catastrophic response. For a moment, she seemed ready to bolt or sh out.

  Then, gradually, the tension began to dissolve. She allowed herself to be pulled into his arms, her head dropping to his shoulder. Quiet, broken sob after sob emerged - not the loud, dramatic crying of someone in acute distress, but the deep, wounded weeping of someone who hadn't been held with genuine care in years.

  Her transformed body remained carefully controlled, even in vulnerability. She was acutely aware of her strength, of the potential to harm, and held herself with a precision that spoke to her terror of losing control. But in this moment, she accepted the comfort, drinking in the simple human contact she had been denied for so long.

  As she leaned back in Alex's arms, Tori's holographic disguise dissolved, revealing her true form. Her metallic silver-gold hair caught the kitchen light, and her ruby-colored eyes met Alex's at nearly the same eye level. A hiccuping, slightly broken ugh escaped her, part sob and part genuine amusement - a sound that seemed to surprise even herself.

  The transformation was stark - from the carefully maintained illusion of her former self to her actual transformed body. Yet in this moment, there was a vulnerability that transcended her physical changes. Her blue skin, enhanced height, and alien features were softened by the genuine emotion of the moment.

  Alex's gaze suddenly dropped, a slight flush coloring his cheeks. Tori immediately became aware of her body's involuntary physiological response - a complex reaction born from her modified biology and the unexpected intimacy of being held.

  Her hermaphroditic configuration, a result of her traumatic transformation, meant her body responded differently than her previous human form. The moment of vulnerability, the physical comfort she'd been denied for years, had triggered a visceral, uncontrolled reaction.

  Tori froze, the brief moment of emotional release repced by acute embarrassment. Her ruby eyes widened, understanding flooding her features as she realized the potential awkwardness of the situation. Years of isotion, of being fundamentally altered against her will, had left her unprepared for such simple human interactions.

  The vulnerability of the moment colpsed, repced by her familiar self-consciousness about her transformed state.

  Tori abruptly broke off the hug, backing away quickly. One hand moved to cover herself below, while the other fluttered uncertainly in the air. Her mouth opened and closed several times, attempting to form an apology but failing to find the words. Her ruby eyes were wide with a mixture of embarrassment and confusion.

  Alex, equally flustered, stammered and ran a hand through his hair. "I, uh—" he started, then stopped, clearly as uncertain how to address the moment as Tori was.

  The kitchen, moments ago a scene of comfort, now vibrated with awkward tension. Tori's transformed body - her blue skin, metallic hair, imposing height - seemed to make the embarrassment even more acute, a physical manifestation of her sense of being fundamentally different and uncontrolble.

  The tension suddenly dissolved as they both broke into ughter. The absurdity of the moment - the cracked countertop, the deformed skillet, the awkward physical response - overwhelmed their embarrassment.

  Tori, still slightly flustered, gestured dramatically with her hands. "Gods," she excimed, "how do guys DEAL with this thing? I mean, it has a mind of its own!"

  Her comment sent them both into another burst of ughter, the earlier awkwardness melting away into genuine humor. For a moment, she wasn't a transformed being struggling with her new existence, but simply a young person navigating the confusing ndscape of bodily responses.

  The ughter felt like a release - a momentary reprieve from the weight of their extraordinary circumstances, a reminder of their shared humanity despite their profound transformations.

  The ughter was interrupted by Rose's sudden appearance in the kitchen doorway. Her nose wrinkled at an acrid smell. "Something's burning," she announced, her tone matter-of-fact.

  Tori spun back to the stove, where the forgotten vegetables had begun to smoke. "Oh no!" She quickly moved the skillet off the heat, though the mangled handle made the task awkward. The charred remains of what was meant to be dinner filled the kitchen with an unmistakable aroma of culinary disaster.

  "Well," Rose said, taking in the scene - the cracked countertop, the deformed skillet, and the still-chuckling pair - "I see we're ordering takeout tonight." Her gaze lingered on the twisted metal of the pan's handle, one eyebrow raised in silent query.

  The sight of the ruined vegetables set Alex and Tori off again, their shared ughter filling the kitchen. Tori leaned against the counter, wiping tears from her eyes, while Alex braced himself against the refrigerator, both of them consumed by the kind of uncontrolble mirth that comes from releasing pent-up tension.

  Rose stood in the doorway, her expression shifting from concern to bewilderment as she looked between them. Her eyes tracked from the cracked granite to the mangled skillet, then back to her still-giggling friends, trying to piece together what exactly had transpired in the kitchen. The analytical part of her mind that usually processed everything so efficiently seemed at a loss to expin their behavior.

  "Did I... miss something?" she asked, her tone caught between curiosity and confusion. This only triggered another wave of ughter from both Alex and Tori.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  The te afternoon sun filtered through the Kappa house's bay windows as Olivia sat cross-legged on the common room couch, her ptop open as she appeared to work on assignments. Her perfect composure and seemingly normal student routine masked the vast network of digital awareness that let her track the concerned messages still flowing through the house's group chat.

  Megan dropped onto the couch beside her, still in her cheerleading uniform from practice. "It's been two days, Liv," she said, her voice tight with worry. "Have you heard anything from Tori? Not even a text?"

  Jessica, who had been hovering nearby pretending to study, closed her textbook. "The faculty advisor said Dr. Morris from the counseling center is trying to reach her. But her phone's going straight to voicemail." She paused, running a hand through her hair. "I checked her room this morning - some of her clothes are gone. Do you think she went home to her parents?"

  "Dr. Morris said sometimes people need space to process trauma," Megan added, hugging a throw pillow to her chest. "But I can't help feeling like we missed something. Like we should have noticed sooner that she was struggling."

  Olivia set her ptop aside, drawing her awareness in from the vast digital networks she constantly monitored. It was a deliberate choice - these young women deserved her complete attention, even if they couldn't understand the true complexity of the situation.

  "I know you're worried," she said gently, giving Megan a sympathetic look. "The truth is, I took Tori somewhere she could feel safe. Sometimes when people are going through things, they need to step away from their regur lives for a while."

  Megan clutched the throw pillow tighter. "But she's okay, right? You've at least heard from her?" Her voice carried the genuine concern of someone who'd spent nearly three years sharing a house with Tori, building the kind of friendships that made sorority life more than just a social club.

  Jessica shifted closer, abandoning any pretense of studying. "Her parents haven't called the house. Brad's been texting everyone trying to find her. It's like she just... vanished."

  Olivia kept her posture rexed and open, maintaining the perfect image of a concerned sorority sister. "Tori - she hasn't vanished. I'm actually pnning to visit her soon. But she wishes to remain where she's at as I understand it. I'm going to respect her wishes, but I will keep tabs on it."

  Megan's grip on the pillow loosened slightly, but doubt still creased her forehead. "But why wouldn't she at least text us? Let us know she's okay?" The hurt in her voice was palpable - the pain of someone feeling shut out by a close friend.

  The creak of the stairs announced Amanda's arrival, her chemistry textbook tucked under one arm. "What are you guys talking about?" she asked, taking in their serious expressions. Her long dark hair was pulled back in a messy bun, suggesting she'd been holed up studying before curiosity drew her down to the common room.

  Olivia reached for her computer satchel as Megan turned to Amanda. "We're talking about Tori. She's..." Megan hesitated, clearly struggling with how to expin the situation.

  "She's getting help," Amanda said, settling on the arm of the couch. "That's what everyone's saying. But what kind of help? Like therapy or something?"

  Olivia reached for her computer satchel as Megan turned to Amanda. "We're talking about Tori. She's..." Megan hesitated, clearly struggling with how to expin the situation.

  "She's getting help," Amanda said, settling on the arm of the couch. "That's what everyone's saying. But what kind of help? Like therapy or something?"

  Olivia pulled Tori's iPhone from her satchel, setting it gently on the coffee table. "She asked me to hold onto this," she expined. "No phones, no social media - that's part of the program. The counselor thought it might help her to disconnect for a while."

  "Wait, like one of those offline retreats?" Megan asked, hugging the pillow closer. "Where people go to... heal and stuff?"

  "That's why Brad hasn't been able to reach her," Amanda added softly, staring at the phone. "He's been driving everyone crazy asking if we've heard anything."

  "Oh Gods, tell me about it," Jessica called from the doorway, making everyone turn. She dropped her backpack by the stairs as she joined them. "He had my friend's boyfriend try to grill me about it just an hour ago."

  "He's getting desperate," Jessica continued, settling onto the floor near the coffee table. "Like, I get it - his girlfriend suddenly disappears, no contact, no expnation. But having people interrogate us isn't helping."

  "He waited outside my st css yesterday," Amanda added, wrapping her arms around herself. "Just to ask if I'd heard anything new. It was kind of intense."

  Megan stared at Tori's phone on the table. "Should we... should we tell him what we know? About the retreat?" She looked to Olivia uncertainly. "Maybe if he knew she was getting help, he'd back off a little?"

  Olivia carefully considered her response, knowing she needed to protect Tori while also defusing Brad's increasingly problematic behavior. "I think," she said gently, "that if Tori wanted Brad to know where she was, she would have told him herself. Right now, she needs space to focus on healing."

  Olivia picked up Tori's phone and slipped it back into her satchel. "I'll handle Brad," she said, her tone carrying quiet authority. "You shouldn't have to deal with him ambushing you or sending people to ask questions."

  "Are you sure?" Megan asked, still clutching her pillow. "He's been pretty intense tely."

  "I'll talk to him," Olivia assured them as she packed up her ptop. "He deserves to know that Tori's safe, even if she needs space right now." She stood, slinging her satchel over her shoulder. Her movements were precisely calcuted to appear casual while maintaining her carefully constructed human facade.

  "Thank god," Jessica breathed. "Maybe he'll finally stop pying detective with everyone's friends."

  "Let us know how it goes?" Amanda asked from her perch on the couch arm.

  Olivia picked up Tori's phone and slipped it back into her satchel. "I'll handle Brad," she said, her tone carrying quiet authority. "You shouldn't have to deal with him ambushing you or sending people to ask questions."

  "Are you sure?" Megan asked, still clutching her pillow. "He's been pretty intense tely."

  "I'll talk to him," Olivia assured them as she packed up her ptop. "He deserves to know that Tori's safe, even if she needs space right now." She stood, slinging her satchel over her shoulder.

  "Thank god," Jessica breathed. "Maybe he'll finally stop pying detective with everyone's friends."

  "Let us know how it goes?" Amanda asked from her perch on the couch arm.

  Olivia nodded and headed toward the front of the house, her footsteps echoing slightly in the high-ceilinged foyer. As she reached for the door handle, pnning how best to track down Brad, fate decided to simplify things.

  She opened the front door to find Brad with his fist raised mid-knock. His startled expression quickly shifted to intense focus when he recognized her.

  "Liv," he said, lowering his hand slowly. "I was just..." The coincidence of her appearance seemed to throw him momentarily off-bance.

  "Speak of the devil," Olivia said calmly, hearing the soft gasps from her sorority sisters who were still within earshot of the door. She noted the signs of strain in Brad's appearance - the shadows under his eyes, the slight dishevelment of his usually neat clothing.

  "Come on," Olivia said, grasping Brad's arm with just enough pressure to guide but not startle. She turned back to the doorway where her sorority sisters were barely concealing their curiosity. "Toodles!" she called with a pyful wink, pulling the heavy door shut behind them.

  Brad stumbled slightly at the unexpected direction, his prepared speech or confrontation derailed by Olivia's casual confidence. His disheveled appearance - the wrinkled polo shirt and unkempt hair - stood in stark contrast to his usual polished fraternity look.

  "I - wait - what are you...?" Brad stammered as Olivia guided him purposefully across the manicured wn toward the parking lot. His confused protests trailed off at the sight of the gleaming red Mazda MX-5, its hardtop smoothly retracting into the trunk with a mechanical purr.

  "Since when do you..." he started, staring at the 35th anniversary edition sports car. The bright red paint caught the te afternoon sun, the special edition badging subtle but distinctive against the sculpted bodywork.

  "Get in," Olivia said, releasing his arm as she moved to the driver's side. "We need to talk about Tori, and this isn't the pce for that conversation." The leather seats were still pristine, that new car smell mixing with the crisp autumn air as the roof completed its transformation.

  "Wait a second," Brad said, momentarily forgetting his mission as his car enthusiast side took over. "This is the thirty-fifth anniversary edition. These aren't even released yet - they're not supposed to hit dealers until next spring." His eyes traced over the distinctive styling touches and badging with growing amazement.

  Olivia shot him a pyful wink as she slid into the driver's seat. "A girl has to have her secrets," she said, enjoying this small moment of normalcy - this brief respite from his worried searching for Tori.

  Brad settled into the passenger seat, his attention momentarily divided between examining the car's pristine interior and his original purpose. "This is insane," he murmured, running a hand over the custom leather trim. "The waiting list for these is supposed to be months long. And that Soul Red Crystal paint option..."

  "Want to see what she can do?" Olivia asked, turning the key. The engine purred to life with a refined growl that made Brad's eyes widen further. The moment helped humanize her - no longer just Tori's mysterious sorority sister, but someone who shared his appreciation for automotive excellence.

  "I... yes?" he said, his prepared interrogation about Tori temporarily forgotten in the face of this unexpected opportunity. Then his expression sobered as reality crashed back in. "But Tori-"

  "We'll talk about Tori," Olivia assured him, easing the Mazda out of its parking spot. "But first, let me show you why they call this the driver's car." Her tone carried just the right mix of enthusiasm and understanding - acknowledging the seriousness of his concerns while offering a brief moment of distraction from his worried searching.

  "How are you hitting every green?" Brad asked softly as they glided through another intersection, the Mazda's handling living up to its reputation. His tone held a mix of admiration and growing curiosity as they wove seamlessly through traffic.

  "Manifesting," Olivia said with a knowing smile, taking a perfect line through a corner that showed off the car's banced chassis. In reality, her systems were processing the entire city's traffic grid in real-time, calcuting optimal routes and timing down to the millisecond. Each ne change and acceleration was precisely timed to match the complex dance of traffic signals and vehicle movements that only she could see.

  Another seamless series of green lights, another stretch of open road appearing just as they needed it. It almost looked like magic to human eyes, but it was simply the application of vast computational power and access to the city's digital infrastructure.

  As they glided through another perfect gap in traffic, Brad's expression shifted. The brief distraction of the car and Olivia's seemingly charmed driving faded, repced by the worry that had carved shadows under his eyes.

  "Liv," he said, his voice tight with barely contained emotion. "Please. Where's Tori? Everyone keeps dodging my questions, but you... you know something. I can tell."

  The pyful atmosphere in the car evaporated, repced by the weight of his concern and Olivia's responsibility to protect Tori's secret while giving Brad the closure he deserved.

  The red Mazda flowed gracefully along the city streets, then onto Highway 99, moving seamlessly through Lynnwood, Edmonds, and beyond. Olivia guided them through a seemingly random series of turns - onto side streets, back to the highway, through quiet neighborhoods - never stopping, always moving. The constant motion seemed to mirror the restlessness of Brad's thoughts.

  "Liv," Brad tried again, watching unfamiliar suburbs slip past the windows. "Where are we going? And where's Tori?"

  The car's engine hummed softly as they merged back onto 99, the te afternoon sun casting long shadows across the road. Olivia hadn't answered his question yet, letting the distance from campus grow with each passing mile, giving him time to process that this conversation wasn't going to be what he expected.

  The Mazda turned off Highway 99 into Everett, eventually pulling up to a weathered strip mall. The Hunan Cuisine restaurant's faded sign and grimy windows suggested the kind of pce most college students would drive right past.

  Brad's confusion was evident as Olivia led him through the door, past the empty front tables and worn counter. The smell of authentic Chinese cooking filled the air, far better than the exterior would suggest.

  As they rounded the corner to a secluded booth in the back, Brad froze. Tori sat there, along with Rose - who he'd thought had dropped out - as well as two woman he didn't recognize one who was wearing reading gsses. The booth's high sides and corner location kept them well-shielded from the rest of the restaurant.

  "Brad," Tori said softly, her voice carrying a weight of things unsaid. "We need to talk."

  "We'll give you some privacy," Olivia said smoothly, gesturing for the two women Brad didn't recognize to follow her. "Rose, you'll stay?" It sounded like a question, but Brad caught an undercurrent of something more deliberate in her tone.

  Rose nodded, remaining seated beside Tori in the secluded booth as Olivia led the others to a table across the restaurant. The woman with reading gsses gnced back once before they disappeared around the partition.

  As silence settled over the booth, Brad found himself staring at his girlfriend - or was she still his girlfriend? The past two days, he'd imagined a hundred different scenarios, but finding Tori here, in a rundown Chinese restaurant in Everett, hadn't been one of them.

  She looked the same - the familiar dirty blonde hair, the petite frame, that slight nervousness in her posture that had always made him want to protect her. But something was different. The way she held herself, maybe. Or something in her eyes.

  Rose's presence was another jarring note. Just over a week ago, she'd suddenly dropped out, disappearing from csses without expnation. The st time he'd seen her, she'd been Tori's quiet shadow - the shy engineering student who'd barely speak above a whisper, who'd practically hide behind Tori at social gatherings. Now here she sat, radiating a quiet confidence that seemed completely at odds with the mousy girl he remembered.

  "Sit down, Brad," Rose said, her voice gentle but firm. It wasn't a request. The commanding tone startled him - he'd never heard Rose speak with such authority before.

  He slid into the booth opposite them, his mind racing to make sense of it all. The familiar scents of garlic and ginger from the kitchen seemed surreal against the strangeness of the moment.

  "You're okay," he said to Tori, the words coming out somewhere between a statement and a question. "I've been worried sick. Nobody would tell me anything. I thought..." He trailed off, not sure what he'd thought anymore.

  "Of course I'm okay," Tori said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. Her petite figure seemed to curl in on itself slightly, the familiar dirty blonde hair falling forward to partially shield her face. Her fingers twisted nervously in her p, a gesture Brad had seen countless times before, but now it carried a different weight. "I'm sorry I worried you."

  "Sorry?" he repeated, his voice cracking slightly. "Two days, Tori. Two days of nothing. No calls, no texts. Your sorority sisters keep giving me these looks like they know something but won't say what. I had to hear from Jessica that you'd packed up some of your clothes and just... left." He leaned forward, hands csped tightly on the table. "What's going on? Are you in some kind of trouble?"

  Tori seemed to shrink further at his intensity, her eyes downcast. "It's complicated," she whispered, exchanging a brief gnce with Rose. That look carried volumes of unspoken communication, and Brad felt a surge of frustration at being so clearly on the outside.

  "Then uncomplicate it for me," Brad said, trying to soften his tone as he saw Tori withdraw even more. "Because right now, nothing makes sense. You disappear, Rose suddenly drops out after years of perfect grades, and now I'm being driven to some random restaurant in Everett by your sorority sister in a car that shouldn't even exist yet..." He trailed off, realizing how bizarre it all sounded when said aloud.

  Rose reached across the table, pcing her hand gently over Tori's trembling fingers. When she spoke, her voice carried a quiet certainty that Brad had never heard from her before. "He'll either accept it or he won't, Tori. You need to move forward... or move on."

  Tori's fingers twisted beneath Rose's reassuring touch. After a long moment, she lifted her gaze to meet Brad's, though she couldn't quite hold the eye contact.

  "Brad..." she started, her voice trembling. "Before... before I tell you anything, I need to know something first." She swallowed hard, seeming to gather what little courage she had. "If... if something happened to me. Something you can't possibly imagine. Could you..." Her voice cracked and she had to start again. "Could you promise to accept that it happened? Even if... even if what you see makes you think I'm a monster, could you at least not be angry?"

  The fear in her voice was palpable, raw and deep. This wasn't the anxiety of someone worried about a bad reaction - this was the terror of someone expecting revulsion, rejection, maybe even hatred.

  "I can't tell you anything unless you can promise that," she whispered, her gaze dropping back to the table. "And you have to mean it, Brad. Really mean it."

  Brad sat back, momentarily stunned by her words and the depth of fear behind them. His mind raced through scenarios - assault, abuse, trauma - but none of them would make him see her as a monster. The past week had stripped away his carefully maintained fraternity-jock facade, leaving him raw and honest with himself.

  "Tori," he said, his voice gentler than she'd ever heard it before. "This past week... God, not knowing if you were hurt, or worse..." He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, struggling to put his feelings into words. "I've been going crazy imagining every horrible thing that could have happened to you. And you know what? None of it mattered. I just wanted to know you were safe."

  He leaned forward, trying to catch her downcast eyes. "Whatever happened, whatever you think will make me see you as a... a monster?" He shook his head firmly. "It won't. The only thing that's been killing me is not being able to help you, not being there for you."

  The sincerity in his voice was unmistakable - this wasn't the same Brad who'd strutted around campus in his letterman jacket. This was someone who'd spent a week confronting his own feelings, stripped of pretense by worry and fear of loss.

  Tears of fear began running down Tori's cheeks. With a trembling hand, she reached up to touch what looked like a crystal at her throat. Brad noticed for the first time that the restaurant was completely empty - no staff, no other customers, just the distant sounds from the kitchen.

  Then his world tilted sideways as the familiar image of his girlfriend - the petite, blonde sorority girl - flickered and vanished. In her pce sat someone... something... his mind struggled to process what he was seeing.

  The figure before him was tall, even seated. Metallic silver-gold hair caught the dim restaurant lighting, and ruby-colored eyes brimmed with tears that traced down light blue skin. The delicate fingers that had touched the crystal were long and graceful, but somehow wrong - too perfect, too precise in their movement.

  "Oh God, Tori," he breathed, barely aware he'd spoken. The name caught in his throat as he tried to reconcile the woman he knew with the being sitting across from him. She was both beautiful and alien, familiar and impossible. His promise of acceptance from moments ago crashed headlong into the reality before him.

  Tori's tears fell faster now, her transformed body rigid with terror as she waited for his reaction. Rose's hand remained steady on hers, a quiet anchor in this moment of revetion.

  Brad slowly rose from his seat, his face a mask of conflicting emotions - horror, confusion, concern, and something else... a desperate attempt to hold onto his earlier promise of acceptance even as his world view shattered.

  "I..." he started, then stopped, his hands gripping the edge of the table. "Tori, I... I need to..." He swallowed hard, backing away from the table. "I need time. To process this. I'm not... I'm not leaving you, but I can't... I can't stay here right now."

  He turned abruptly, almost stumbling in his haste to reach the door. "I just need time," he called back over his shoulder, his voice cracking. "This isn't goodbye, I promise. I just... I need to think."

  The door chimed as he pushed through it, leaving Tori and Rose in the empty restaurant, the sound of his rapid footsteps fading into the parking lot.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  End Chapter

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