I Swear I’m Still the Hero!

Luna felt incredible.

There was no other word that quite managed to capture the overwhelming, almost intoxicating sensation that coursed through her veins as she stood there in the quiet corner of the parking structure, flexing fingers that were no longer quite the same shape they had been an hour ago. The gift Umbra had offered her—no, granted her—had gone far beyond anything she could have realistically expected when she had said “yeah okay” with nervous bravado.

Sure, she looked far from human now, but in hindsight, she had never been particularly attached to being human in the first place.

She reached up slowly, almost reverently, and ran her fingers through her hair. It was no longer the flat, slightly frizzy brown she had wrestled with for years. Now it spilled down her back in thick, wavy locks the color of fresh ink, dark enough to swallow the light. It felt heavier, healthier, almost alive beneath her touch, each strand smooth and deliberate as though sculpted rather than grown.

When she caught her reflection in the darkened window of a nearby car, she actually gasped. Her face had changed and not just in the way a good haircut or better contouring might suggest, but fundamentally. It was perfectly sculpted in a way that felt almost unfair, with large, expressive eyes framed by impossibly thick lashes. Her nose was small and delicate, a soft button shape that balanced her features. Her lips were full and a vivid rosy red that contrasted strikingly against her new skin tone.

She lifted her arm and turned it slightly under the harsh overhead lights and stared at the Ashen grey tone she was covered in. It was smooth and unblemished, almost velvety in appearance. It looked unnatural, almost too perfect. There was no patchiness, no unevenness, her skin was flawless.

She twisted experimentally at the waist and nearly knocked over a shopping cart with something behind her.

A tail. She froze for half a second before looking over her shoulder in awe. It curved outward from the base of her spine with elegant, sinuous movement, tapering to a subtle point. When she focused on it, it swayed in response, almost like a limb she had always possessed but somehow forgotten.

She flexed it again and it flicked.

“How did I live without this?” she muttered in genuine confusion.

Walking felt different, but in a good way. Her center of gravity had shifted slightly, and once she adjusted, her balance was astonishing. She could pivot more sharply. Lean farther without stumbling. The tail subtly compensated for her movements, counterbalancing her in ways she had never experienced before.

Chairs, however, were going to be a problem.

She made a mental note that sitting normally might be a thing of the past.

Then there were the horns.

She reached up cautiously and brushed her fingers against them. They curved upward and slightly back from her temples, smooth and solid, cool to the touch. Not enormous, but certainly noticeable. They felt sturdy, like they were not decorative but functional in some way she had yet to explore.

She immediately thought of her favorite beanies.

“I’m going to have to punch holes in all of them,” she murmured, half exasperated and half delighted.

She took another look at her reflection, turning slightly to admire the full effect.

Honestly, she looked like a succubus.

Or at least what she imagined a succubus would look like, based on late-night internet rabbit holes and questionable fantasy art. Dark, alluring, slightly dangerous in a way that made her pulse quicken rather than spike with fear.

It was sick as hell.

A laugh bubbled up out of her before she could stop it, turning into a high, disbelieving giggle that echoed faintly in the empty lot.

The only real cost had been the transformation itself and her smile faltered slightly at the memory. The pain had been… atrocious. There was no softening that description. It had felt like being torn apart and reassembled piece by piece, bones reshaped, muscles rewritten, nerves lit up like live wires. At several points she had been certain she was going to black out, or worse.

But she hadn’t, she had endured it, and now she stood here stronger, curvier, undeniably more herself than she had ever felt before.

There was also the small matter that she needed to bring some of her friends in on it, as part of the agreement.

That was fine. More than fine even. If she felt this good, this powerful, this comfortable in her own skin, then why wouldn’t she want the same for them? Why wouldn’t she share it? This was like a complete free transition and all it cost her was some short term pain!

This was a dream come true.

She glanced down at herself again, unable to resist one more assessment.

Her chest was, admittedly, a little better than before. Not exaggerated, per se, but fuller in a way that made her posture feel different, more confident. And her ass—

She twisted slightly to check.

—was absolutely killer.

“Worth it,” she declared softly to herself, tail swaying with smug satisfaction.

She was going to need new clothes.

That realization struck her about thirty seconds after the euphoria settled into something more practical. She tugged awkwardly at the hem of her top and immediately felt the fabric strain in protest. What had once fit comfortably now clung far more tightly to her torso, stretched across her chest and pulled snug around her waist. When she shifted her hips, the seams gave another warning creak that did not inspire confidence.

Her skirt was faring even worse.

The curve of her hips had become far more pronounced, and the thick base of her tail was actively interfering with the structural integrity of her outfit. It pushed insistently against the back of her underwear, forcing the waistband downward while simultaneously lifting the skirt in a way that would have been scandalous in better lighting.

She reached back, trying to adjust both tail and clothing at once, which only resulted in further awkwardness.

“Okay,” she muttered to herself, “new wardrobe. Immediately.”

“You are happy with the new form, yes?” Umbra asked, watching her with open curiosity and what looked suspiciously like pride.

Luna turned back toward her, tail swishing excitedly behind her without conscious input.

“More than happy,” she said breathlessly. “This is a dream come true. I mean that. I will do everything in my power to repay you, whatever I can do.”

Umbra’s dark eyes seemed to brighten at that.

“Yes! Good!” she said enthusiastically. “Need more servants. The enemy will come and be stupid and stuff.”

Luna blinked.

“The enemy?” she repeated. “Who is the enemy?”

Umbra paused and scratched thoughtfully at her chin, as though attempting to recall something only half remembered.

“Mm. Do not know fully,” she admitted. “Stupid white wings. And a person who did not appreciate past me’s gift. They do not like me helping people.”

There was a faint pout in her voice at that last part.

Luna’s brows drew together immediately.

“I knew angels were bad,” she said, nodding as if this confirmed a long-standing suspicion. “They always came across as authoritarian and inflexible to me. Very strict. Very ‘my way or eternal consequences.’”

Umbra’s face lit up with vindicated delight.

“You get it! Yes!” she exclaimed, pointing at Luna as though she had passed an important test. “So we need to get more and more servants to fight against the bad people!”

Luna hesitated slightly, her tail slowing its excited swish.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I’m not much of a fighter. I’m honestly a bit of a coward.”

Umbra waved a dismissive hand. “But you are better now! Powerful! You can show that angel your power!”

Luna tilted her head. “Am I powerful?” she asked cautiously.

“Yes!” Umbra replied without hesitation. “The smartapes of this world are not powerful. Almost no mana. But lots of capacity for it. You have even more capacity now. And I put a mana core in you from my blood so you can do the magicks!”

Luna froze.

“You what.”

“I put mana core in you,” Umbra repeated proudly, tapping her own chest for emphasis. “From my blood. Very good quality.”

Luna’s eyes widened so much they almost felt dry.

“I can do magic?” she asked, her voice climbing an octave despite herself.

“Yes!” Umbra said, beaming. “I will teach you because I am the best at magic.”

There was absolutely no doubt in her tone.

“But,” Umbra continued, already thinking ahead, “need more smart pretties. Will make soldiers after.”

Luna stared at her.

“Riiight,” she said slowly, trying to reconcile the phrase “make soldiers” with the current reality of her swishing tail and over-tight skirt. “So I just get some of my friends in on this, and all we need to do is follow you?”

“Yes!” Umbra replied immediately. “Very easy.”

Luna looked down at her new hands, flexed her fingers, and felt something faintly warm and coiled beneath her sternum, like a small sun waiting to be acknowledged.

Very easy, she repeated silently.

Her tail flicked again.

Somehow, she suspected it would not be.

That was the most neutral way she could phrase it without immediately spiraling into hysterical laughter.

Technically, nothing had happened directly to her. She had gone to work. She had answered emails. She had microwaved leftovers and scrolled on her phone like a normal person. On paper, it had been completely ordinary.

Unfortunately, reality had decided to veer sharply away from “ordinary” a few days ago.

First, a monster had fallen out of the sky in Wellington, not metaphorically, not as a strange political headline, but. An actual monster. There were videos. There were shaky phone recordings. There were news anchors trying very hard to remain professional while describing something that looked like a nightmare knight descending from the clouds. Then, a few days later, an angel had appeared.

And now, apparently, they were roommates, in the historical sense. The sort that lived in a one bedroom apartment with a single bed and never married.

Well. That might have been slightly misleading. Her day was interesting because something was happening to her.

Because at the moment, Emily’s best friend of fifteen years was sitting sideways on her couch in order to accommodate the large, very real tail that she now possessed.

Luna looked nothing like she had that morning.

She looked like something out of the “candy floss” folder on Emily’s computer. The one that she shared with no one and only acknowledged the existence of when she was alone. Ink-black wavy hair spilled over her shoulders. Her skin was an ashen grey that made her neon-pink eyes look even brighter. Horns curved elegantly from her head. Her posture had changed too, sitting more confident than Emily knew she was.

And yet it was undeniably Luna. She was wearing the same clothes she had left in a few hours ago, even if they were fighting for their lives against her new proportions. She knew every humiliating story from Emily’s teenage years. She had already referenced the Year Nine Incident in vivid detail, which no shapeshifting impostor could possibly have known about.

“So, are you keen?” Luna asked.

Her voice had changed slightly. It was smoother now, richer in a way that made something uncomfortable and warm coil in Emily’s stomach. It was not a reaction she was prepared to examine, especially with a stranger in the room. Maybe later when she was alone in her room.

Said stranger stood near the television, peering at the framed photos on the wall with blatant curiosity. She looked somewhat like the monster knight from the viral videos, but less skeletal and imposing. She had no horns, was much shorter, and carried herself with a strange mix of awkwardness and immense confidence.

“I, umm… this is a lot,” Emily admitted, rubbing her hands together. “Can I think about it?”

“No no no!” the strange woman said immediately, waving her arms. “Time is short. Need many to fight against the horrible enemy.”

“Yeah, sorry Em,” Luna added, giving her an apologetic look. “Umbra is kind of being hunted for trying to help people. She needs to share her gifts with more people to help fight back the tyrants. I’m pretty sure they’re basically interdimensional cops.”

Emily stared at her.

“Ugh. Yeah, that does sound bad,” she admitted slowly. “But I’m not really much of a fighter.”

“I wasn’t either,” Luna said quickly. “But I’m much stronger now. And I can do magic, apparently. Still need to be taught, but that’s a thing.”

“Magic,” Emily repeated faintly.

Umbra nodded enthusiastically. “Very good magic. Best magic.”

Emily hesitated, her gaze drifting back to Luna despite herself. The horns, the tail curling lazily against the cushions, the way she seemed so comfortable in her new skin already…

“I can look however I want?” Emily asked carefully.

Umbra made a noise somewhere between a groan and a sigh. “Yessss, I suppose. I know best, obviously. But if you want… you can have some input…”

That answer did not help Emily feel like this was a well-structured process.

Still, she could not deny the appeal. Not just the power or magic, there were other things she had tried very hard not to think about for years. Things about mirrors and discomfort and the vague, persistent sense of something being slightly off no matter what she did to her appearance.

And currently she was trying very hard not to stare at her best friend’s new form and spiral.

“I suppose,” she said slowly. “Okay. Could I be an actual cat girl?”

Umbra blinked. “What is cat girl? A female cat?”

Luna snorted softly and pulled out her phone, fingers moving quickly as she searched. She turned the screen toward Umbra.

“She means like this.”

Umbra leaned forward, studying the image with intense focus. Then her face lit up.

“Oh! Yes. Very easily! Will make even better. Trust!” she said, bouncing slightly on her heels.

Emily shot Luna a look. It was a mistake.

Luna’s eyes met hers, bright and encouraging and maybe a little excited. Emily’s heart began hammering in her chest so loudly she was certain it was audible.

“It’s also basically a free transition,” Luna added gently. “One hundred percent.”

Emily swallowed.

“Everything?” she asked quietly.

Luna nodded, her eyes lighting up. “One. Hundred. Percent.”

There was a long pause.

This was probably reckless, possibly even catastrophic, pun intended. Definitely not something she had seen coming when she woke up that morning.

But the alternative was staying exactly the same.

Emily inhaled slowly.

“I’m in.”

“Woo!” Umbra clapped her hands together. “Okay! Do not mind the pain. Just remember it is temporary!”

Emily’s eyes widened.

“The wha—”