Friday, August 29th, 2042, Interstate 80, west of Fernley, Nevada.

With one arm resting out the window of her silver 2024 Ford Mustang Convertible, Vanessa snapped out of her highway daze when she heard the sudden sound of her phone ringing. She glanced at the speedometer. Twenty over the limit. With a quiet curse, she eased off the gas and tapped her headset to answer the call, forwarding it to her wireless connection without taking her eyes off the road.

"Hello~?"

"So? Are you there yet?"

Vanessa rolled her eyes. Her good friend and party-member, Ellie Rousseau, had always been impatient, but today, her anxiety levels were sky high. Vanessa did not get why Ellie kept calling while she was driving, but she knew her friend was scared—and had every reason to be. Vanessa had to confess being slightly scattered herself.

Ellie lived on the East Coast and never remembered the three-hour gap between Pacific and Eastern time. Today, she had called at four in the morning, waking Vanessa up.

"Not yet. It's a bit of a drive from Fallon to Elliot's."

Her friend's voice crackled in her earbud. Warm, low, and tinged with a thick Québécoise accent, even this early. "You're still not there?" Ellie asked. "Can't you, j'sais pas… go faster?"

Ellie was one of the few people changing outside of the game. Like the catgirl in the news last night. Her character, Maribelle, was the healer in their party, a halfling priestess. When she had noticed the changes this morning, she had immediately called Vanessa, half panicked, half in disbelief.

The hum of the road was steady beneath her Mustang's tires, a monotony that let Vanessa's thoughts spiral. Early morning sun glinted across the windshield, casting long streaks of light across the dashboard. She adjusted her grip on the wheel and flicked her eyes up to the rearview mirror. Her hair caught the light—rose gold and with red roots. Until two days ago, she had been blonde. But now her hair was changing, matching her in-game character's fiery mane. She had only noticed it this morning, during Ellie's call.

"I'm already driving over the limit, but I don't want to push my luck. I'm only about twenty minutes from his place now." She sighed. "I still can't believe this is happening to us. This is so weird, Ellie."

"Bienvenue dans l'club, ma belle. At least you're not losing fifteen centimètres every day."

Ellie always slipped back into that heavy mix of French and English when stressed—Vanessa was used to it, even if not everyone could follow their conversation. In a way, it was perfect for sensitive matters like this one.

"Any luck reaching Rachel?"

Rachel was the fourth member of their party. She played Garren, a halfling who started as a brute but switched to captain when Vanessa became a crusader. They both wondered if her body was changing outside of the game, too.

"Non. She's online, but she doesn't want to talk."

"That speaks volumes, don't you think?"

"Pour sûr. C'est louche en câlisse."

Even though the situation was incredibly stressful, or possibly because of the stress itself, Ellie's outburst of uncensored swearing proved so unexpectedly funny Vanessa could not help but burst out laughing.

The road stretched endlessly ahead, two lanes of faded asphalt weaving through sun-baked scrub and looming mountains. After her laughing fit, Vanessa readjusted her seatbelt, feeling the way her shirt stretched differently across her shoulders. She counted her blessings, having picked a plain, city-dweller homini for her character. Looking at her reflection in the mirror, she looked ten years younger. Once this unexplainable transformation was over, if she looked just like her character, she imagined most people would assume she was between eighteen and twenty-one.

"And Elliot? No sign, still nothing?"

"Pantoute. Haven't been online since yesterday. Doesn't respond to direct messages, emails, phone calls."

Vanessa frowned, shifting lanes to pass a slow-moving truck. "I just hope when I get there, he's just busy with something and we've been worrying about nothing."

"What will you do if you find he's changing itoo?"

Vanessa's hands tightened slightly on the wheel. "I don't know, girl. But if he's changing to Seraphine, and if Rachel is turning into Garren? Those two will need our support."

"Tsé, I don't have it easy, either…"

Vanessa exhaled loudly. "I know, Ellie. I know. But put yourself in their shoes. If the same happened to you, you'd love to get some support, no?"

"Ouain, you're right. I guess."

"Anyway, I'm getting closer. I'm going to let you know once I confirm one way or another. Can you keep trying to talk to Rachel?"

"J'peux essayer. À plus."

"Later, Ellie. Stay safe."

The line went quiet, leaving only the hum of the road and the distant whir of tires on pavement. Vanessa rolled her shoulders and tried not to think too hard about how alien they felt. She had known every inch of her own body, but nothing matched anymore. Every little movement was a constant reminder she was no longer herself.

Vanessa shifted in her seat. She did not live very close to Elliot, so the two of them had not met very often. The last time she had come down was for a little meetup back in '41, just coffee and banter. He was easy to be around. Smart. Quiet. The four of them had been online friends for over a decade. They had played the original version of the game. When they heard about the re-release, they had unanimously voted to purchase and play it on launch day, for old time's sake.

After another ten minutes on the highway, her GPS directed her onto a quiet suburban street lined with older trees and well-kept lawns. The house was easy to spot. Modest. Pale siding.

Vanessa eased the car to a stop at the curb. She noticed the curtains drawn tightly over every window. The house felt still, sealed. As she cut off the engine of the car, she spotted a quiet electric car pulling up in the driveway and stopping next to Elliot's car. Her hands lingered on the wheel a moment longer.

Vanessa's brow furrowed. A man she had never met, but seen in photographs before, stepped out of the vehicle. Mr Sutton, Elliot's father. This would be her first time meeting any members of his family.

The man glared in her direction while walking to the front door, carrying plastic bags from Home Depot. There, he put down the bags and crossed his arms, watching her in a protective, guarded stance. He kept staring at her from his post without saying a word.

Vanessa stepped out of her convertible, tucking her sunglasses over her forehead, the glint of her red-rose hair catching the morning light. She slung her purse over one shoulder, her heart thudding.

With the man standing still and silent, Vanessa gathered her courage and stepped forward, calling out to him in hopes of a response. "Hi. I'm Vanessa Alvarez. I… I'm a friend of Elliot's."

Mr Sutton narrowed his eyes, stepping forward just slightly. "Yeah? So? What do you want?" he asked, his tone brusque, almost hostile.

Vanessa steadied her voice and raised her hands in a calming gesture. "You're his father, right? Mr Sutton? I promise, I just want to see him! I think—" She paused, hesitating for a second before choosing to explain the situation as best as she could. "Look. Something big happened. I think he may be affected? I want to make sure he's okay; he hasn't replied to any messages! And seeing you here, blocking the door... Something did happen, right? Is he okay? Tell me he's doing okay?"

The man did not answer immediately. His jaw tightened, but after a few seconds, he relaxed. "He's… inside," he said finally, voice gruff and low. "He hasn't left his room since yesterday evening. Won't speak to me or my wife. Won't even open the door today."

Vanessa took a tentative step forward, hopeful. "Can I enter? I can try to talk to him. Please? Maybe he'll let me see him? Maybe I can help him?"

Thomas exhaled slowly through his nose. "I don't know what you expect to find, but he's not—he's not well. Not thinking straight. Keeps saying things that don't make sense. It's probably stress. Overwork. He's always been sensitive."

Vanessa nodded, her expression softening. "It might make sense to me. I have a pretty good guess what he's going through."

Thomas stared at her, searching her face for something.

"He's changing, right? Into something—Someone else?" she suggested.

Before he could reply, she continued, "—because I am, too."

Then, slowly, he opened the door and stepped aside, just enough for Vanessa to slip inside. She murmured a soft "Thank you" as she crossed the threshold, careful not to track gravel from the driveway onto the clean tile floor of the foyer.

The house was quiet and dark. Too quiet.

Vanessa glanced around—framed photos, a bookshelf cluttered with paperbacks, a pair of untouched sneakers by the door—when a woman's voice floated in from deeper inside. "Did you find enough lightbulbs, Tom? The ones for the—"

A woman—Mrs Sutton, presumably—turned around the corner. She was older than Vanessa had pictured—mid-fifties maybe, hair in a neat braid, worry etched deep across her forehead. The moment her eyes landed on Vanessa, she stopped in her tracks. She wore blood-stained yellow rubber gloves and carried a bucket filled with dark, dirty water.

Her eyes flicked to her husband in alarm. Then back to Vanessa. "Thomas? Who is this young lady? What's going on?"

Vanessa swallowed. She looked at the father, hoping he would answer, but he stared at her. She understood perfectly the meaning of his silence. It was a test. "You're on your own. Can you convince Elliot's mother, too?"

Trying her best to keep her eyes on Mrs Sutton's eyes, and not her bloodied gloves, Vanessa took a single step forward. "You must be Elliot's mother. I'm Vanessa, I've been a friend of his for years, although we mostly see each other online. Except he hasn't been online lately. And after yesterday's news…"

The woman squinted at Vanessa, as if she was trying to peer inside her soul.

Vanessa bit her lip, then continued, "I came to check on him in person… If something happened to him, I wanted to check if he's okay? I can help—"

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

"What, exactly, do you think is happening to him?"

"He's changing? Growing taller? The same thing is happening to me… Well, not the same thing—" she reached for her hair. "This morning I woke up with my hair pink and red like this. I'm blonde! I look like a just shaved a decade off my age, and in the mirror I see a face that's not mine, and a body that belongs to a supermodel." She paused. "If I'm right, he's turning into the character he's playing in a game online. A game we both play. And I've seen Seraphine, Mrs Sutton."

Elliot's mother's expression showed surprise at hearing the character's name. But it was surprise in recognition, not confusion.

"If this is happening, and it keeps going? I know what he'll look like when it's over. Were you here yesterday?"

Mrs Sutton hesitated, her eyes flicking to her husband and back. She nodded slowly. "Yes. We got here late yesterday at night."

"Do you know how to stop it?" Mr Sutton asked.

Mrs Sutton looked pleadingly straight into Vanessa's eyes. "Do you know why it's happening?"

Her expression faltered. She shook her head. "No—to both questions. I'm afraid I don't know why it's happening to me, to that Kaelyn person, to Elliot, or to any other gamers. And I don't understand how any of this is even possible! FullDive rigs shouldn't be able to do that!"

"It's that game's fault," Mr Sutton said, adamant.

"We don't even know that for a fact." Vanessa's shoulders slumped. "It could be something else completely. It has to be something outside the game. Did Elliot's change progress further today?"

Mrs and Mr Sutton both shook their heads slowly—Vanessa's heart swelled with joy.

Maybe by staying out of the game, Elliot paused the transformation!

"Good, then that means—"

"—No. We don't know," Mrs Sutton corrected. "We haven't seen him so far today. He locked himself in the guest bedroom."

The news almost immediately dashed all hope Vanessa had remaining. She reminded herself, however, that Elliot's parents had not confirmed whether the transformation had progressed at all.

"There's still a chance, then! Can I… go upstairs and talk to him?"

Mrs Sutton shot a glance towards her husband, but he merely shrugged. She faced Vanessa. "You can try? Keep your shoes on and mind the floor. There might still be shards of glass in the carpet…"

"Hmm." Vanessa gingerly took one step toward the stairs and immediately stopped. "What happened here, anyway?"

"Elliot did," his father answered. "He did this, we think. It was like this when we got here."

He might have trashed the place during the anger stage of grief, perhaps?

Vanessa nodded slowly. "Okay… I hope he calmed down since. You saw him yesterday. How was he?"

"Not good," Mrs Sutton replied. "Rocking under his desk, in tears."

Stuck in denial, then?

"I'll see what I can do." She reached the stairs, carefully watching her footing as she stepped across the entryway carpet. A sharp crunch under her boot confirmed the glass warning had not been an exaggeration. She winced but carried on. The house smelled faintly of pine cleaner and something less identifiable. A mix of blood, sweat, and terror.

The stairs creaked under her as she climbed. When she reached the second-floor landing, she paused. She recognised the layout; she had been here before, had even slept in the guest bedroom once. The third door at the end of the hall would take her to Elliot's current room. It was the only closed door in the house. She walked up and knocked gently.

"Elliot?" she asked delicately. "It's me. Vanessa."

No answer. She hesitated, then tried again, louder this time. "I came to check on you. We're all worried. Especially me and Ellie."

A faint sob behind the door. Fabric rustling. A floorboard creaking?

"You don't have to open the door," she added. "But I need to know you're okay."

More silence.

Vanessa leaned forward, pressing her palm flat against the wood. "You're not alone. Ellie and I… we're changing too. It's not just you; you're not going crazy."

She heard very light footsteps and the sound of the door getting unlocked. The handle turned, and the door creaked open, barely an inch. Vanessa stepped back to let him get a good view of her body and how she had changed.

Through the narrow gap, she made brief eye contact. Dark brown irises, rather than the blue they had been before. He scanned her from head to toe quickly.

Whatever was visible of his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. "You haven't changed as much as I have," he said. The voice was entirely different, but it still followed his usual cadence.

Elliot's fingers flexed tightly against the edge of the door, knuckles white. He averted his gaze, a thousand-yard stare at the wall of his guest bedroom.

She could feel the weight of an unspoken accusation. She could feel all the sorrow and pain mixed in his statement. He envied her. Resented her for this, perhaps?

Good. I'd rather you focus your anger on me than on yourself right now, El.

"That's not why I picked homini for Callidora. You know me; I'm very vanilla when it comes to character design."

"If I had known—" he stared, but did not complete his sentence. His shoulders lifted and dropped, as if trying to shrug off a weight he could not name.

After a few seconds, he gripped the edge of the door with one hand and pulled it open. Vanessa held her breath. Elliot—or what remained of him—stood there, draped in a bedsheet, arms folded over an ill-fitting shirt hanging too snugly in places and loose in others.

He shrank slightly into the blanket, watching her like someone expecting a blow.

The face peeking out from behind the blanket had long, chestnut-brown hair. It had been close to his natural hair colour, but the length was unmistakably Seraphine's—or at least a halfway point. His cheekbones were higher, lips fuller than they used to be, jaw softening into something elegant. His dark brown eyes appeared almost black in the dim hallway light. The sclera was pink-red with visible bloodshot veins. He looked exhausted, as if he had not slept at all last night.

"Oh." Vanessa tried to find the word. "I take it this is further along than what your parents saw yesterday?"

Elliot nodded wordlessly, confirming her suspicion.

"Shit, and you didn't log at all yesterday, right?" she asked, frowning.

He shook his head slowly.

"So this happens even if you don't connect to the game, then."

He did not respond, walked back to the bed, his steps uneven, one hand gripping the blanket so tightly it trembled. He sat himself cross-legged by the pillows, leaving enough room for her at the foot of the bed.

Vanessa stepped inside the room, then closed and locked the door behind her. She pulled out her phone. "I'm going to text Ellie, okay? She's super worried about you, but she's also freaking out over her own transformation. She's shrinking so much every day."

Elliot did not stop or encourage her and instead pulled the blanket tighter around his body. Vanessa recognised the pattern; deep pressure stimulation. He was trying to regulate his emotions, to quell his anxiety.

"You don't have to go through this alone. Your parents are here. I'm here," she started. "Did you let your boss know? You took some PTO for the duration of the glitch, right? But did you let them know to extend it until this issue gets sorted out?"

Elliot winced as she said that. "No," he whispered. "I'm not ready. If I do, then it becomes real. I don't want to answer any weird questions."

Vanessa stepped closer, slowly, hands visible and unthreatening. "It's already real, El. Look at me. Look at you. We both changed overnight. But you still have options. Right now, the company doesn't know. But once they do? Maybe they'll give you medical leave. This is most assuredly a big enough event to warrant leave."

A long pause. "If I tell them, they'll make it public… Everyone will know."

"One thing at a time," Vanessa said. "But the news is already public. There's already three public faces. After a while, people will stop paying attention to the news… Six now with the three of us. Seven, if Rachel is affected—we're not sure; she's been avoiding us, so we think she might be, too."

That hit home. Elliot flinched again, his eyes darting to the bedroom window. His shoulders sagged.

"People won't care." Vanessa continued gently. "There are millions of people running around in VR using their game avatars. Everybody's already used to it." She sat next to him on the bed. Close, but not touching. "Do it on your terms. Send a message. A short one. Just… get ahead of it."

Trembling, he said, "I don't… I'm afraid…"

"What's scaring you?"

Elliot pulled the blankets even tighter. "I don't want anyone to see me! I don't want doctors to examine me and tell me how much of me is gone! And mostly, I don't want to be touched, to feel things the way this body does. I don't want anyone to connect me with Seraphine. Everyone will know…"

He rubbed his arms unconsciously, as if the name itself crawled across his skin.

"What will they know?"

"That it's me, and all my fault!" he blurted out in anger, as if it was the only obvious answer. "That I created this character. They'll see me and think, 'He did this to himself!' Or they'll openly mock me."

Vanessa let the silence settle for a moment. She simply breathed in. Slowly and steadily. Made sure he could hear it. "I get it," she said quietly. "But listen… You don't have to show your face. Not yet. Not to anyone. Just message your manager."

Elliot's hands tightened on the blanket. "She'll laugh at me if I do…"

"Did she laugh, when you asked for time off?" Vanessa asked. "What makes you think she'd ridicule you?"

He did not answer.

So she softened her voice. "You might have coworkers who are also going through this. Ellie's falling apart and keeps calling me because she's scared. We have each other. But not everyone else does."

He exhaled, let go of the blanket and fished his phone out of pockets. He held it with both hands, the screen black. His thumb hovered over the screen, unmoving, for several seconds. He clutched it like a lifeline, arms pulled close to his chest, as if shielding himself from the very idea.

"You don't have to say much. Just say you're affected IRL. That's all."

He did not move. He froze there, staring silently at the screen. Soon Vanessa realised why. Elliot could see his own reflection on the dark screen. She reached and pressed the power button for him, the phone screen lighting up, turning the temporary mirror into a doorway to another universe instead.

"Thanks," he said, although there was no conviction in his voice. And then, slowly, his fingers moved, finding the company's messaging app, then locating his supervisor's private chat channel. Under Vanessa's watchful eye, he typed his message, clumsily at first, then a little more steadily.

Then Elliot clicked the send button and let out a long sigh. He then navigated to the list of private channels he was part of. He entered the one called #VictimsOfTheGlitchSupportGroup.

A peer support group? That's good.

There, he typed a message. "Sutton, Elliot: Hey everyone. Sorry I haven't been around much. Did anyone hear of people getting transformed outside of VR?"

A ping and private message window arrived almost immediately.

"Naderian, Soraya: Oh, hey Elliot! Of course, it's all over the news. It's all we've been chatting about this morning in your channel. RIP our productivity today."

"Sutton, Elliot: Did anyone in the channel come forward and say they were affected?"

"Naderian, Soraya: No, no one yet."

"Naderian, Soraya: I know I'm not. And believe me, I checked. No dice. :("

"Sutton, Elliot: ?"

The following message took long to appear. The notification "Soraya is typing●●●" blinking on and off several times before finally appearing.

"Naderian, Soraya: Wouldn't it be cool? I'd be cool being Kohana full-time. In-game, in VR and in the real world! But alas, no such luck for this dracan lady."

"Sutton, Elliot: You're serious? You WANT this?"

Elliot frowned and looked up from the phone, a puzzled expression on his face. He looked deep into Vanessa's eyes, as if he tried using them to discern some universal truth. A trembling blink, then another. He was searching her face for permission to hope. "She wants this to happen to her…?" he mumbled to himself.

"Who is she, exactly?" Vanessa asked.

"Some colleague from the group chat—" He shook his head. "Her name's Soraya. I don't know her too well. We don't work on the same floor."

Another ping from the phone brought both of the gaze to the tiny screen.

"Naderian, Soraya: Hell yeah! Look, I understand you might not have made your character with your idealised self in mind. But me? That's how I built Kohana. I'd love to find out what I need to do to get invited to this private club!"

"Sutton, Elliot: Yeah. Wish I knew…"

"Naderian, Soraya: Oh?"

"Naderian, Soraya: Oh!!!"

"Naderian, Soraya: … Don't tell me. You're affected, then? You too?"

Elliot did a double-take at the message on his screen. "Oh, shit… She figured it out…"

He pressed his palms over his ears, shaking his head slightly, and started breathing rapidly, threatening to hyperventilate. Vanessa quickly covered the screen with one hand. "Calm down, Elliot. Look at me," she said, leaning forward. "Deep, controlled breaths…"

Elliot closed his eyes and slowed down his breathing. After he had calmed down a little, Vanessa released her hand from the phone. Elliot glanced down at the screen.

"Naderian, Soraya: Elliot?"

"Naderian, Soraya: You still there?"

Once again, the notification that the person on the other side of the screen typed, then erased her message repeatedly blinked in and out.

Before her response could appear, Elliot shoved his phone in Vanessa's hands. His breath hitched, fingers twitching before he let go. "This was a terrible idea…"

Vanessa took it, twisted out of sight, and checked the latest message.

"Naderian, Soraya: If you are… I know someone else who's going through the same. I checked with them if they'd be willing to talk with you, and they agreed. No pressure, though. Wanna do it?"

Vanessa glanced up from the screen. "She… knows someone else who's changing. She wants to connect you two."

Before Elliot had a chance to answer, the phone in her hand emitted a distinctive chime. Not the same messaging app. Vanessa opened the notification panel, saw the direct message from Elliot's manager. She clicked it, skimmed through it, and then summarised the content for him.

"Your manager responded. She says you're the first case to step forward with this. She's going to check with HR and your insurance provider and get back to you ASAP."

Elliot curled in on himself slightly, lips parting as if to say something, but no words came.

Vanessa focused her attention back on the phone. She returned to the private chat with Soraya and started typing a reply.

"Sutton, Elliot: Hey. My name is Vanessa. Elliot's having a panic attack RN, so I'm answering for him. I'm here in person to make sure he's okay. I play the game—and I'm changing too. So even if Elliot won't talk to your friend, could you connect us?"

"Naderian, Soraya: Hmm? Sure, let me check."

Vanessa felt her heartbeat quicken. So many people were changing! How many is this now? Seven or eight?

Before long, the familiar notification reappeared at the bottom of the screen. "Soraya is typing●●●" This time, it did not blink in and out.

"Naderian, Soraya: Yeah. They'll talk with you too, if you want."

"Sutton, Elliot: Ok. Connect us please."

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