Trial Run Over
The Remote of Transformation
chapter 20
by
ThePanswapticon
Ethan practically slammed the Civic door behind him, hands white-knuckled around the Morphisizer remote. The screen flickered weakly but now displayed a stable set of controls:
TARGET LOCK: USER. RESET AVAILABLE.
Marcus leaned over the seat, watching. “So, you gonna do it? Just like that? Poof—no more Lila?”
“Yes, Marcus. I’m done.” Ethan’s voice cracked, frustration raw. “No more boobs. No more random creeps asking if they can ‘study’ me. I just want to be me again.”
“Dude, slow down—”
“Nope.” Ethan jabbed the button.
The Morphisizer hummed, the same blue-white light sparking out, wrapping him in that tingling wave. Heat rolled through his skin, and his whole body pulled inward. Breasts deflated, hips narrowed, his voice dropped in an awkward, cracking laugh. He stumbled, bracing himself on the seat as everything snapped back into alignment—familiar angles, familiar weight.
It was over in seconds.
Ethan looked down. His hoodie, now baggy again, hung off his shoulders. His hands—his hands—looked normal. He let out a shaky laugh, half-relieved, half-in disbelief.
“Holy crap,” Marcus said, staring like he’d seen a ghost. “Dude, you’re you. You’re actually back.”
“Thank god,” Ethan muttered. He grabbed his chest, patting it flat just to be sure. “I’ll never complain about my body again. Ever. I’m so—”
He caught sight of himself in the car window reflection. The messy hair, the faint smear of mascara still around his eyes—remnants of Lila’s face—but otherwise, it was him. Just him. A crooked grin spread across his face. “Oh man. I’m back.”
Marcus grinned. “Kinda sad, though. I was getting used to Lila giving me the death glare.”
Ethan shot him a look. “Don’t even start.”
Inside his room, Ethan set the Morphisizer on the desk like a holy relic. The machine’s screen pulsed softly, awaiting new commands. He dropped onto his bed, exhausted. “I’m locking this thing down. No one else is getting zapped. Not ever.”
Marcus flopped into his chair, spinning lazily. “Yeah, except, you know… you literally proved it works by turning a judge into a twenty-year-old hottie in front of everyone. You think no one is gonna come knocking now?”
Ethan groaned, pressing a pillow over his face. “Why’d you have to say that?”
Marcus grinned. “Because I’m right. And you know I’m right.”