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The faint crackling from the speakers, familiar to Phil’s ears, spread through the dimly lit room where a wall of video monitors and a massive table dominated the space. Phil, as usual at this time, was slouched in the "observer-operator" chair, feet up on the table, lazily watching what was happening. And everything would’ve stayed that way, if not for the sudden voice of Barrison Ford behind him — way too unexpected for Phil.

– Uh-huh, so that’s how we’re handling Procedure E-259A? – said Barrison calmly, yet with authority, letting out a heavy sigh.

Phil jerked, nearly falling out of his chair, and quickly yanked his feet off the table like a schoolkid caught doing something dumb. His cheeks flushed slightly, but he pulled himself together fast, glancing at the monitor wall, where the central screen showed a woman in a leather chair. She was looking down at her breasts and slowly trying to unbutton her shirt, fumbling and mumbling something under her breath, clearly annoyed, as her long-nailed fingers kept getting in the way.

– Uh, yeah, Barry, I mean, boss, I— – Phil stammered, trying to recover some confidence – Joseph, I mean she...

– You made her tits bigger again, didn’t you? – Barrison continued in a tone like he was talking about a botched soy latte in the office kitchen, not someone’s actual life.

Phil's eyes darted back to the screen, where several capsules could be seen—each one housing a participant in the “New Human 3.0” experiment, including Joseph, a U.S. Navy Sergeant who had fallen into a coma after being wounded. His body was now fully, gradually transforming into what Phil and Barrison were watching on the screen. Or at least that was the plan, since until the transformation—triggered by a new virus capable of reshaping people into something entirely different—was complete, the capsules remained closed. All they could see was what played out in the subjects’ minds. And yeah, this wasn’t the first time they’d tried to “tame” this bizarre virus.

– Well? Cat got your tongue? – Barrison leaned forward, resting on the edge of the table, and now his shadow loomed over Phil like the system itself was pressing down on the guilty. – And why the hell is she not wearing a bra, you moron!? Don’t tell me that five days before “awakening” she still thinks she’s a dude!

Phil swallowed and gave a strained grin, his eyes flicking to the screen again. The woman in the leather chair—Joseph, technically—was now frozen, staring off to the side. She was breathing heavily. Through the open white shirt, a deep cleavage showed where heavy breast flesh slowly spilled out, jiggling slightly as she shifted, the weight of her boobs clearly felt even like this.

– Well... uh... – Phil coughed, avoiding his boss’s gaze. – The “Gender Adapter” program’s still in beta. I figured it’d be better to add... extra sensations... to help later on... – he trailed off, realizing how stupid it all sounded and how obvious it now was that he just wanted to mess around and make her sexier.

– You’re a fucking perv, Phil, you know that? – Barrison snorted, but a slight smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth, almost friendly. He pushed off the table and, straightening up, clapped Phil on the shoulder. – If I didn’t know you for twenty years, I’d fire your ass on the spot. But even if you’re running your own little freak show here, you’re still a pro. And I know this is gonna get us solid results.

Phil gave a nervous smirk, rubbing the back of his neck like he was trying to wipe off his boss’s stare...(full story (14 000 characters) is open to subscribers)