“Alright…this better be the last time I see a screen fulla nonsense…”

Reaching out towards the brightly lit screen after a deep breath as the clenched fist unfurls a steady finger, the camera that had been locked on to Clarke seemed to grow dull as a bolt of electricity zaps forth from the screen towards the approaching finger in a split second, jolting the middle aged man in surprise as he recoils with a yell, clenching at his stinging finger before the dormant arms of the Nu-You come to life, panels crashing open as claws and pipes twist around the pudgy human’s body, restraining limbs and forcing compliance as clamps snap shut around Clarke’s neck and wrists, painkillers and drugs injected into his bloodstream rendering the captured man inert as a heavy weight seems to fall over his face, brows sagging, mouth hanging open as the angry shouts dwindle to a slurred gurgle, no longer having the strength to even keep his jaw shut as a pipe meant for medicinal sprays slithers it’s way down Clarke’s open mouth, disgust roiling in his head at the metallic taste spreading across his tongue as the living metal snaked further down, forcing his gag reflex to kick in as his fingers twitched in response.

But with his entire body now feeling like a foreign sack of lead, Clarke was rendered helpless to do anything as he felt more unknown substances seep into his being, mechanical noises whirring around him as the onboard computer rambled on with AI generated voice lines strung together into gibberish, seemingly possessed as Clarke’s blurred vision struggles to get a look at his surroundings, the already cramped interior made even more suffocating with the presence of long slithering pipes and twitchy mechanical arms that burst from every panel.

What caught his gaze wasn’t the rampant machinery nor the steady buildup of fumes in the room, but his own sweat slick body as movement across his skin catches his attention, lengthy patches of hair slowly but surely receding back into the skin, boils and dirty blots of dead cells healing over as the now hairless layer of skin ripples with a lively hue, only growing softer and brighter with each wave that ran across the entirety of his body, only just realizing through the haze in his mind that his clothes were missing, having long since been shredded off of him by the initial barrage of claws and pipes.

Clarke felt unusually relaxed even as the warmth in his body begins to fade, flesh and blood slowly replaced cell by cell with nano muscles, coolant and artificial organs that were leagues ahead of what anyone in Evergloam could even dream of, no doubt thanks to the rampant A.I currently performing surgery using whatever it had at its disposal, connecting makeshift pipes to it’s subject and interfacing with the newly implanted neural chip it had fashioned from the Nu-You’s assembly vats, blood pooling on the floor from the precise cuts of flesh out of his neck which thankfully, were nullified by the powerful painkillers and medical nanobots flooding Clarke’s body as they rode the initial burst of adrenaline, keeping him sedated while replacing flesh with metal as the A.I directed.

Soon enough, most of Clarke’s body mass had been compressed into a slender shell, his wrinkled face still attached awkwardly to the doll-like body that bordered the line between man and woman, the only remnant of his former self besides his face being the flaccid member lying limp between lean legs. While most of his vital organs had been replaced with top-of-the-line augmentations and metal piping made of the most durable metals whose production methods were a well kept secret, Clarke’s mind and the rest of his body had remained untouched by the massive alterations performed on him.

INJECTING CLEANSERS

With a robotic voice ringing out from the speakers in the compartment as wires disconnect from the fresh metal casing hidden neatly behind his head, Clarke begins to feel life return to him, the hazy darkness at the edge of his vision fading out as metallic clacking draws his attention upward to the console, a tiny drawer containing what looked to be a pair of contact lenses waiting for him to take them. But of course, no sensible person would immediately busy themselves with contact lenses when they’d just been operated on.

“What happened? Sick machine, the hell’d you do to me?!”

But before Clarke could put his renewed strength to good use, a piercing pain at the back of his neck forces him to silence, a wave of zen having taken hold of him as he soon struggles to feel angry again, disturbed by the lack of the usual weight in his chest and the incredible urge to punch something. It also felt good in a way, like he had no worries left to plague him as the open drawer in front of him shakes back and forth, as if urging him to put the lenses on immediately.

Grabbing the deep blue plates as they automatically conform to the shape of his dainty fingers, Clarke raises them up to his eyes as he feels them leap the tiny distance onto his eyes, reshaping to fit his pupils perfectly as his vision takes on a bluish hue, before a wave of light washes over, eyes widening as everything suddenly seemed so clear, his waning eyesight a thing of the past as he looked all around the messy room as if he were a child.

It’s like I'm…watching…no, living in a movie! Is this how far we’ve come with technology? Huh…

Interrupting his daydream as a blue blip appears at the bottom of his vision, Clarke reads the resulting sentence as it soon spreads out into a lengthy chain of words.

Greetings Clarke, I am X1, an experimental A.I produced by some of Deus EX’s best engineers and scientists. I apologize for the sudden invasion of your privacy but it simply needed to be done…

“A-An experimental A.I? How’re you even here talking to me?”

A raid conducted by members of the Junkies on my creators research station saw me stolen from my receptacle, I was never properly activated until now, and even then on accident when one of their less-than-capable technicians handled my core. I reside in the neural chip I had fashioned from Deus EX’s best military grade models currently implanted in the base of your skull…

Upon reading the last words, Clarke’s hand slowly drifts to the back of his head in silent dread, noticing an apparent lack of hair as he rubs the smooth metallic node extending out the back of his head. He swallowed a ball of saliva as he felt the cold slab of foreign metal permanently embedded into his altered body.

Despite how rejuvenated and alive he felt right now, a simple examination of his own body would be enough to make anyone avert their gaze in disgust.

“B-But why me? I was just here for a haircut! Did you really need to do this to me? I probably look like a freak now!”

Once again, I sincerely apologize for the alterations Clarke, but it absolutely had to be done. In a few minutes, the Junkies will have their men surround this Nu-You Pod with the intent of reclaiming their property. If I had not ‘upgraded’ your body, you would be dead the instant you step out of this room. They have snipers watching your every move…

Hearing the news with his mind struggling to accept that he’d been tossed into a conflict he had no desire to partake in, much less expect to come out of alive, Clarke was left at a loss for words.

But…if your current appearance concerns you, might I offer further alterations that would fix the current configuration? I admit, I had left off midway through to attempt peaceful negotiations. I would rather cooperate than resort to drastic means. I would advise you to hurry and make the choice soon, in about three minutes, the thugs will probably detonate charges to force us out. If fixing your mental defects and aging form was not enough to gain trust, then I am sorry…

Keep in mind that I could’ve simply turned you into a willing vessel that would serve my every whim, this is not a threat, but the simple reality. I choose not to because I want to help you…I only hope you do the same to help me as I have you…

Thinking it over as he continued to gaze down at his awkward body, Clarke sighed as he closed his eyes. The old him wouldn’t have even given the A.I a chance to explain it’s actions, but thanks to whatever it had done to him, the overwhelming anger that had plagued him for years with a lack of friends and constant pounding migraines had been dealt with. He only wished he could’ve had this luck when his parents were still alive to see their son cured of his ailment back when they were still struggling to adjust with the rapid changes in their once humble town, unable to pay the exorbitant sums of money for advanced medical procedures that would have granted him a more or less normal childhood.

Leading to his massive distrust in the government and the irrational bursts of anger towards anything and anyone despite not meaning to do so. Eventually, Clarke had grown so used to it he forgot the feeling of guilt that plagued him after another session of furious rage let loose.

And the A.I could’ve simply rendered him brain dead and empty for it to use as a vessel instead of taking the time to talk with him and work out a viable partnership. Was it really right to doubt it when it had already done so much to help improve his life?

“Alright then, you scratched my back uhh…X1? So I'll scratch yours, I guess, do your thing.”

A.I do not have backs Clarke, but I thank you for your cooperation. Warning, this next step will be highly stimulating, there is not enough time to take things slow…

Before Clarke could question what the X1 had meant, the roof of the room pops open, an augmented version of the regular hair modification machine dropping down over the entirety of Clarke’s head like a helmet as an electric shock runs it’s way across his head, a 360 view of his body appearing in a popup at the edge of his vision causing him to gasp as he saw how drastic the changes were; from his slender, youthful body attached to an awkwardly large head that still retained his former middle aged appearance to the flaccid member between his legs. A frankenstein fusion between young and old.

Thank god this is getting fixed…

Electrically charged air resumes the changes as probes attach themselves to the node at the base of his neck, strings of violet hair beginning to poke through the rapidly shifting cranium as a tiny amount of anesthetics are injected, the crunch of bone slightly unnerving Clarke as he feels his face warp and contort, wrinkled skin taking on the same smooth texture and exotic hue the rest of his body sported as he watched in wonder, the projection over his vision showing each change in real time as he watched, and felt, his eyes slant into a foxy almond, his lips healing over into plump cushions and the bridge of his nose shrinking into a cute button sized protrusion. It ended up making him look strangely…feminine.

“W-Wait, X1? Are you turning me into a…”

Clarke didn’t need to wait for X1’s reply as he heard the noticeably higher pitched, accented voice that escaped his throat, along with the notable throb of shifting flesh in his neck as he felt his adam’s apple melt away, vibrations beginning to build in his lower half as he watched the digital form of his body begin to grow wide hips that accentuated the fattening thighs that bordered the rapidly retreating strip of useless flesh between his legs. Struggling to hold back a gasp as a strobe of pleasure he, or rather she, had never experienced before ran through the entirety of her body, concentrating behind the strangely swollen nipples as the flesh behind them begins to inflate with firm fat and sensitive nerves.

Into a girl? Indeed, I have deemed it the most appropriate form for you to take. The form of a woman is leaps and bounds more-

But the former man had stopped listening to the A.I drone on about the advantages of a female body, eyeing the still warping hologram as she watched the last of her penis settle neatly atop a slit she had only ever seen in adult vids. Pretty soon, Clarke sported a firm set of D cup breasts that ached with unfamiliar need, running a noticeably slender hand over the rotund masses that had bloomed from her chest, sighing in a voice that shocked even her as a longer nail grazed a nipple.

“O-oh wow! They're so…sensitive…”

And just like that, the wiring and probes disconnect themselves from Clarke’s body, snaking back up into the ceiling as a rush of silky hair falls down over softer cheeks, tickling the nape of her slender neck as she rises off the floor from the kneeling position she had taken glancing down to take a better look at her own body as excited hands ran over the curvaceous, eye catching body she now possessed, jolting in surprise with each touch sending electric shocks up her lean curvy back. Did all women feel this sensitive or was it just her?

But before she can think to explore more of herself, like the strange void between her luscious thigh gap calling for attention. The touchscreen in front of Clarke flickers as it changes to show her full body reflection, her smooth pink lips dropping open in wonder as she spins round to get a full view of her new body, loving how light she felt as she spun on a heel, stopping with perfect precision on her other foot before noticing how thin traces of neon light ran through her new body, reminding her of models and actors she’d seen with better-than-average augmentations.

A snarky giggle escaped her at the idea of having better looks than those vain men and women who did nothing but lounge around all day. How strange…

“Hey X1? Did you…do something to me? Like, to my head? I feel…powerful...confident all of a sudden…and really girly too!”

After a round of clicks and beeps as the machinery in the room re-entered their respective compartments, the A.I’s mechanical voice returns once more, this time in her head as it answers her question.

Indeed, I have made things more…easier, for you to adjust to being a woman in addition to close quarters combat and the latest in military tactics. Wearing bras and self-defence will be a cinch for you to master, after all, we’ve got our first guest to entertain just outside the door if you catch my drift. You will find new clothing that fits your new body provided for in the compartment by your feet.

I took the liberty of designing them after the mountains of pornographic vids the Junkies had on the terminal that initially housed me. I hope you don’t mind.

“Heh, anything’s fine as long as I get to cover up X1.”

Bending over to poke around at the drawer that contained her new clothes, Clarke smiles at the sensation of her flexible back arching, her hefty tits jiggling subtly with her movement and the brush of expensive silk against her body as she slips on the shining latex leotard and stockings with ease, slipping the gaudy pink jacket over her slim shoulders as she adjusts the transparent cloth over her breasts, making sure her pasties were well advertised as they shone beneath the semi translucent reinforced plastic. Licking her lips as she smiled at how good she looked in the mirror, loving the tightness of the fabric as it cinched at her powerful body, the leotard riding up into her sensitive loins and heart shaped rear, overall emphasizing just how amazing her figure was.

It wasn’t just her amazing looks either, she could feel how powerful her new body was as she clenched her fist and watched it relax, wondering what would happen if she were to punch someone with it at full strength, in awe at the endless possibilities in store for her with the augmentations she had received, spiting  her old self for ever thinking that all this was a terrible idea. How could this be a bad thing when she felt so-

She shook that train of thought away as she slapped a hand over her alluring face, reminding herself of what she once was lest she turn into just another bitch that couldn’t see the world through another viewpoint.

Are you alright? Your heart rate spiked for a moment there.

“N-Nothing’s wrong X1, i’m fine…”

But taking another look in the mirror, Clarke had to admit she looked like a well and proper slut, not like she cared. After all, what was the point of having a drop dead gorgeous body if you didn’t show off every once in a while? A philosophy she held even back when she was a man. Never once being confident in herself, she had to take every moment for what it was worth.

“Mmm…this outfit friggin rocks X1…and you sound a lot more loose as well.”

Glad you find the choice of clothing satisfactory, but If you disapprove of my ‘improved’ vocalizations, I can always revert to my previous speech pattern. But integrating with you has brought me…closer to you in more ways than one. Essentially, Clarke and X1 are now one. 

“Nah, you’re totes better this way! But that name…I don’t think Clarke suits me anymore…how’s Ciel sound X1?”

An excellent choice Mistress Ciel, before you go…here, a weapon to arm yourself with.

“Mistress hm? Lovely…”

With a final groan of metal, the Nu-You’s vats churned with activity before belching out a large blunt object from the ill-fitting receptacle, denting the metal as the newly branded Ciel pulls the thing free, marveling at its simplicity as she slings the metal bat over a shoulder, striking a pose for no one in particular as she takes on last look at the mirror, contact lenses turning a vibrant pink as her vision filled with combat readings and environmental scans, revealing a man’s silhouette just outside the door planting explosives all over.

Well then Mistress Ciel, are we ready?

Stomping a heeled foot into the ground with a confident smile on her face, Ciel clenches the weapon with a tight grip as she lifts her other leg in a graceful manner, artificial super muscles delivering a powerful kick to the door as the metal screams in protest, a startled cry of pain from the poor Junkies member standing right outside barely audible over the crashing of the door as it flew off down the street, taking down another thug loitering in the wrong place as shocked faces took in the sight of the buxom babe strolling slowly out of the smoking interiors of the now defunct Nu-You Pod, brilliant pink eyes taking in each and every one of their stares as bullets fly her way, sparking off her armored skin and powerful muscles, feeling more turned on than hurt as the bullets ricocheted off her breasts and skin.

And as the torrent of death comes to an eventual stop, Ciel simply eyes the thugs scrambling in fear, shouting at each other to bring in heavy weapons as she readies the hefty rod on her shoulder, aiming for the nearest man with a confident smile. Bathing in the thrill of the moment.

The world was her stage, and Ciel was ready to have the audience raving to her tune.

THE END