Late into the 25th century, Humanity had broken through the many barriers once thought impregnable 500 years ago; breakthroughs in science and medicine that paved the way for gravity drives in spacecraft development and the cure to virtually any disease as long as treatment was applied in the early detection phases. In addition to the discovery of a new source of power that could virtually power their civilization ten times over without drawbacks to the environment, mankind was thriving.

But while spaceships roamed the inky depths of space and architects worked to develop the Luna colony on the Earth’s ever present satellite, the brilliant minds responsible for contributing to the greater good of humanity had begun work on another project entirely. One with benefits yet unforeseen but more out of curiosity; to see if it was even possible to attempt such a thing.

The concept of time travel wasn't new. Used as material in over the top science fiction media as the driving plot for their stories. A what-if scenario where the main lead goes back in time to save his loved one, finding an unlimited source of power in some sort of temporal temple. The possibilities were endless, and time travel would remain the stuff of dreams and wild speculation.

Unbeknownst to the populace at large, a certain group of scientists and eccentric individuals had come together with the shared goal of making time travel a reality. And after years of secrecy and hard work, their dream time machine had finally been realized in the shape of an arch that would generate a rift through space and time to wherever the user wanted after inputting a destination into the terminal with unexplained technology working to provide a safe tunnel through the unknowns of time from Point A to Point B.

And after testing with cloaked camera drones outfitted with tech to enable communication between two vastly different time periods that ultimately proved the venture feasible. The brilliant minds behind the machine were feeling comfortable enough to begin sending live people back in time…unaware of the immense dangers that lay ahead of them.

With a team consisting of Albert; the project lead who wasn't one to shy away from danger. Dexter; a scientist with a medical degree who would aid them in case anything went wrong and Charlie; an archivist responsible for documenting the journey. The machine whirs to life with a tear through the very fabric of reality manifesting in the archway. Sending the three men hurtling through time back into the past as the rest of the team wished them the best, keeping a close eye on the monitors for anything amiss.

With cloaking fields that baffled the minds of anyone unaware of the technology, the trio would find themselves in the middle of a moderately busy street as the ripple of the portal fades from view, with horse drawn carriages ferrying people to destinations unknown riding up the muddy cobblestone path flanked on both sides by tall two to three story houses built so close together it felt like walking the halls of a fortress. The distant plumes of industrial smoke rising high into the air somewhere beyond the array of rickety roofs as men dressed in all forms of attire ranging from dapper clothes to baggy yellowed overalls rushed from place to place as women in expensive dresses stood in tight knit groups in hushed discussion.

As Dexter and Charlie begin to engage in small talk while taking readings and recordings with their gear, the leader of the group stands shocked amidst the cool streets of London during the rule of Queen Victoria, wincing at the warm rays of sunlight washing over his face as it peaks over the tall man-made structures of wood and stone. A rare sight to see in the 25th century outside of imperfect imitations and computer generated models.

It was only when he narrowly missed bumping into a kindly old gentleman did the shock hit home for Albert. Turning around to face his companions who didn't seem that impressed to be standing here, more than 400 years in the past. Visitors from another world.

“Incredible…seeing the drone footage was one thing…but being here, with my own two feet on the ground! Truly incredible!"

Before the snap of a camera shutter draws his attention back towards his comrades, a gleeful Charlie produces film from his handheld device before passing it over to Albert.

“Real good poster boy material there Al!”

But instead of his jab having the intended effect of snapping Albert out of his thoughts, the picture only seems to trap the scientist in another loop of endless thoughts as he stands still with his attention turned back toward his own daydreams. Sighing, Charlie turns back around to face Dexter, shrugging in defeat as he walks over to the medic.

"Our brave leader’s stuck in dreamland again…how’s the data probe doing?”

Sighing wistfully as he hands over the miniature handheld device showing green across the board, Dexter takes a slow look around while wrinkling his nose in annoyance. Clearly he didn't want to be here.

"It's fine…more or less. We're actually all set to head back with the environmental scans we've got. Y’know if I were in charge I might’ve chosen somewhere more 'zen' for a short survey…like rural Japan or something. The air here doesn't sit right with me."

"Ahh c'mon, it ain't that bad, I mean…you get to look at women in dresses? I'm not too bit on Victorian stuff myself so you gotta ask the man himself what makes him all tingly about it."

Before the two men can continue their conversation, the communication device on Dexter's suit begins to beep with an incoming message, thumping his chest to begin transmission as Charlie takes to walking down the street slowly, giving his companion some privacy while being careful not to bump into or dislodge anything while taking more scans of the different buildings that lined both sides of the street. He'd heard about the overpopulation issues that plagued England back then but looking at all these buildings stacked so closely together was really striking it home for him.

"Fucking hell! Dammit!"

Hearing Dexter curse out loud snaps the researcher out of his daydream as he turns to look back down the road, noticing his colleague rubbing his face with a wet wipe as if something had gotten on it, his back pressed up against the wall of the building with an angry stare directed upward though the shelter of the roof at the tenant residing on the third floor.

Unable to make his way towards Dexter with a huge crowd of people beginning to fill the streets between them, Charlie activates his own shortwave radio, joining an ongoing call with Albert asking if Dexter ‘felt anything wrong’.

"Dex?! What's wrong? Talk to me!"

"Can everyone just…shut it for a moment…asshole threw something out the window…and it got on my face…alright?"

But from where Charlie stood, something strange was beginning to take hold over Dexter as he continues to try and decontaminate himself, with each rub over his cheek erasing his tanned hide as if it was an artificial layer of paint, leaving behind creamy white skin free of the dimples he once sported over his face with the gloved hand clasped around the wet wipe becoming small and dainty.

“D-Dex?! Something’s happening to you!”

Dexter

It started out as a normal conversation with the folks back in the control room. Talking about what to grab for lunch when they got back from the survey.

"Hah, that's if Albert gets his pants on in time…he's moved from staring at that photo to-Shit!"

That was when a warm rain of something thick and sour smelling rains down from above, catching the scientist by surprise as he recoils in shock, making a beeline toward the wall while bumping into a few confused men as they spun around with skeptical looks, wondering what had just shoved them in the shoulder.

"Fucking hell! Dammit!"

Hearing the commotion but unable to move in to help as a crowd of people turn the corner of the street, Alberts voice sounds out over the comms as the call back to the command center is cut off. "Dexter, what's wrong? You didn't bump into anyone did you?"

"Some dipshit upstairs threw nasty stuff out the window! It stinks so bad!"

"But did you bump into anyone?"

"I…I think so…one or two of em…look, can we just-" "Do you feel anything off? No side effects?" "Dex?! What's wrong? Talk to me!"

With all the voices ringing in his ears, the anger and disgust as he wipes the slop away from his face and the discomfort from Albert's implications, the disgruntled man yells in an effort to silence the noise, with his voice breaking mid way through with a womanly alto slipping by unnoticed.

"Can everyone just…shut it for a moment…asshole threw something out the window…and it got on my face…alright?"

But no matter how much he seemed to scrub, the smooth slime remained firmly plastered over the skin on his face as his efforts intensified, growing concerned as the flesh beneath begins to give way; turning buoyant and plump with an oddly pleasant tingle spreading up to his fingers before inching its way across the rest of his body, beginning to feel a strange sense of enlightenment radiating from his chest, soothing the panic he felt not too long ago. ‘Don't tell me…that was poison…'

“D-Dex?! Something’s happening to y-"

But despite the warning from his colleague cutting off abruptly with the microphone tucked away inside his ears disintegrating, the confused scientist pays the disruption no mind, letting the wet wipe fall from his grip as it too fades away in the wind. Leaving just his notebook lying snugly in his breast pocket, shifting slowly into a far more archaic design; steel casing morphing into worn wood while recycled paper jotted with scientific notes and scribbles widens into neatly kept medical reports written by someone with remarkable penmanship fastened securely to the clipboard now held in his hands, pressing up against a softened chest as the tingle encapsulates his entire body.

"M-my head…what's wrong with me…"

To Dexter, it felt like there was a pleasant haze clouding his judgement, preventing him from acting upon the instincts that told him something was very wrong with how the air around him seemed to be vibrating, that he should've hit the emergency button located around his wrist before his entire techsuit had been warped into a pleasant blouse, giving his shapely legs some room to breathe as his leggings bloom into a dress. Feeling the bite of multiple layers of undergarments beginning to wrap around his feminizing figure; a corset squeezing tight around his waist with another layer beneath to prevent sweat from soaking through before fluffy bloomers appear over his widened hips, masking the vanishing of his manhood as it twitches for a moment before slipping between a pair of plump lips flanked by thick supple thighs, newly formed glands lubricating a warm tunnel beneath a pudgy belly that had formed over Dexters well earned six-pack. With a pert pair of breasts pressing hard against her blouse with her muscles being converted into healthy mammaries for her future children. A pleasant warmth radiating from her core at the thought.

But something catches her attention for a brief moment, flickering in the air towards her  as it flits between her countrymen like an ethereal butterfly before losing sight of it, rubbing her eyes with her lips inflating into pink pillowy cups perfect to embrace in a passionate kiss, lifting a gloved hand away to reveal alluring red pearls bordered by a soft head of hair that falls down around her picturesque face. Excess threads tying themselves into a ponytail that dangles down her arched back.

And with a pair of matching navy blue boots slipping themselves over her feet, Dexter; the 25th century man of science had been replaced with Emma; a caring young woman born and raised in London, taking on the dangerous profession of a nurse, uncaring of the dangers to her own health as she nursed the critically ill back on their feet. And with the renewed income of citizens flocking to the cities looking for work, she barely had time to sleep properly these days with how many new reports came in of strange diseases and unnatural fevers.

Now fully absorbed into the Victorian Era and none the wiser to who she once was, Emma sighs as she leans against the wall to her patient’s home, catching her breath after a particularly exhausting morning, barely noticing the wispy grasp of time fading from her body…

Emma

'My eyes, how tiresome…nary a chance to rest these days…'

That was when the nurse had felt something squeeze her bosom; a firm grip that felt both strangely familiar and disgusting, jolting her senses awake as she swings the wooden clipboard in her hands on reflex alone, yelping out in surprise when she realizes there was nothing there, no indecent fiend around to pin the blame on as people shot strange stares her way. Hearing more than a few degrading insults slung her way by the higher class ladies.

"What's the row about?"

"Look'it her hair! As unnatural as her eyes!"

"Mark my words; that there's a she-devil!"

Shying away from their judging eyes, Emma lowers her face to the floor as she takes her leave in shame. It wasn't her fault that she'd been born with hair colored an unusual shade of light pink, being ostracised for it wherever she went since childhood.

Right before bumping into a broad shouldered individual, glancing upwards in shock, ready to apologize for her ‘misconduct’ before realizing who the man was as he held her close with a hand wrapped firmly around the nape of her neck in a comforting manner.

“W-William?”

“Apologies Emma, nice to see I made it more or less on time. Bricky of yous to get into this mess without me around!”

“What in tarnation took you so long? I thought that wasn’t going to end well for sure…”

“Well now, whatever do you mean, pray tell? I’m here now…s’all that matters right?”

“Hmhmm~ I guess so…”

Nestling her face against the chest of her beloved, Emma remains still in William’s embrace as the small crowd disperses around them, feeling herself swept off her feet with an excited whoop as he holds her in a bridal carry. Staring dreamily up into his eyes before landing a soft peck on his cheek. “Where to now darling?”

“I think you know very well where we’re goin Em…”

“W-What the hell was that for Al?! I could’ve stopped it! Could’ve saved Dex!”

“I know how you feel Charlie…but there was nothing you could have done to save Dexter, once he made contact with the people here, there wasn’t anything either of us could’ve done…don’t touch me…”

“W-What’re you…no way…you didn't!”

It had happened so fast that neither man had time to respond, nor could they. A few seconds after Charlie had noticed Dexter’s hand and face begin to change, a visual disturbance could be seen cascading down around Dexter like a cocoon made out of air, going unnoticed by the people of London except for the other two interlopers watching their colleague change before their eyes; his tanned skin waxing over into a pale caucasian white as a ripple runs down the cocoon, sublimating body hair while his standard issue techsuit ebbs and flows like water, reforming into a frilly long sleeved blouse with a matching blue dress, instantly cutting off Dexter's life signs from the rest of the team with the disappearance of everything he had on him, spurring Charlie into action as he dashes into the crowd, dodging the temporal landmines that were the people of Victorian London, his eyes focused on the newborn woman who seemed to be staring his way with a look of confusion on her face as if she didn’t quite recognize him.

"Charlie don't! Temporal readings are off the charts! You get too close, you're gonna get caught up in it!"

But he had ignored his leader’s warning, charging through the crowd until he was within arms reach of Dexter, who didn't seem the least bit disturbed by the fact that he no longer was a middle aged Caucasian man but instead; a rather beautiful English woman with a voluptuous figure hidden beneath her modest clothes, striking pink hair framing a lovely face.

Until someone tackles Charlie mid charge, slapping away his outstretched arm and tackling him to the ground as Dexter lets out a womanly shriek, swinging the clipboard her notebook had become in an attempt to repel who she presumed to be a molester. Only to look around flabbergasted as a small crowd begins to grow, their leering eyes directed at their former colleague as Albert pushes Charlie back up against the wall and away from the incoming mob.

They watched as they threw inflammatory remarks her way, but instead of the ire he had expected of Dexter, the woman he had become simply remained silent, facing her head down as if in apology before walking away in shame. If anyone insulted Dexter, he wouldn't hesitate to beat their skulls in. Instead, Charlie could only watch as he struggles against Albert’s grip, watching as she walks away with her head down before bumping into a man about a head taller in height than she was. Shocked as he watches him scoop Dexter up in his hands and carry her like a giddy bride before she lands a kiss on his face.

By the time Albert had released him, Dexter and her newfound love had both vanished down the busy street, stepping into a carriage together before it vanished down the road, their colleague never to be seen again…

Albert

Pressing his back up against the wall, the fire in Albert’s eyes along with the way he had warned Charlie not to approach had the archivist backing off, not because of fear, but because he had noticed the same ripple that cocooned and altered Dexter begin to appear over the scientist’s right hand. The same hand that deflected him earlier.

“But…you didn’t touch anyone…”

“Dexter…it was Dexter…by the time you reached for him, he was already drawn into the Victorian Era, Dexter as we know him doesn’t exist anymore in the future…instead we have a new nurse running around doing her job with an encouraging husband by her side…check the logs and call back to base…you’ll see what I mean.”

“S-So what? Dexter’s gone?”

“Not ‘gone’, just misplaced. Think of it as…an artist…co-opting a mistake on his canvas, turning it into…a part of-Ugh!”

Triggering the comms, Charlie radioes back to the control room, asking frantically for a status update before checking his sensor readings, already realizing with cold dread what had happened to Dexter.

“Y-You’re sure? This was a two man survey…no records of anyone by that name? Alright…I’ll call back soon…y-yeah, we’re alright…”

Turning back toward Albert, he could already see the changes starting to go into full throttle, the entirety of his right arm already having lost most of its bulk, with the changes spreading up his shoulders and over to the other hand wrapped tightly around the forearm. From how strained his face was and the beads of sweat rolling down his forehead, it seemed as if the changes could be slowed if the victim had enough mental fortitude to resist.

“If you knew, why didn’t you tell us before we went on this survey?!”

Chuckling weakly before another voice not his own bleeds through in a hesitant groan, Albert pushes his back up further against the wall as it begins to snap and curve inward, the outlines of a corset pushing up against the techsuit before it too, begins to fade, elastic bulletproof weave replaced by ordinary cloth that drapes itself over Albert’s considerably smaller frame with the changes now spreading down to his hips and over his sculpted chin.

“I…I didn’t know…at least not until…until…blazes, it’s already forgotten to me!”

“You’re already talking funny Al…”

Dodging a wandering Englishman, Charlie takes a hesitant step forward toward his struggling leader as his face ripples like a pool of disturbed water, distorting his facial features until an entirely different face takes shape, staring at Charlie in a mix of fear and reassurance. Holding out a slender branch tipped with girlish hands to ward him off.

"D-Don't come any closer! Please doctor…for your own safety…get back to the…to…wherever you came from!"

And with his chestnut brown hair fluttering down all over his body in a silky wave of flowing blonde that bunches itself up into a neat braid with an elegant extension left to drape down over his face. Albert's life signs ping negative in Charlie's ears with the final dregs of his suits system's giving in to the temporal warp, forming an elegant dress that explodes outward in a frilly mess of emerald green and vanilla white, hiding a thin pair of legs clad in stockings, dexterous feet wrapped snugly in heels as Albert lets out one final cry of resistance, the melodious voice of a young woman melding with his in one single chorus as she clutches at her tight stomach, equal parts aroused and in pain as her lithe body twitches, hips thrusting out every so often with the manifestation of a bountiful bosom beginning to fill the gap in her dress.

By the time the low cut neckline of her dress fills in with a hearty view of an impressive cleavage. Charlie had already thumbed the emergency button on his wrist, feeling a pulling sensation build around him as he stared into Albert’s glassy blue eyes beginning to fill with a leaf green hue, if what he said about Dexter was true…then that meant Albert couldn't see him anymore with the loss of the suit and any knowledge pertaining to its technology…or anything else from his life in the 25th century for that matter, which explained why his fearful look was beginning to turn into one of calm; it was like descending into a nightmare, before wondering what was so wrong about it as your perception changes to fit the supposed 'nightmare'.

Just before his vision fills with a blue light that signalled the start of a time jump, Charlie could see someone else walk up to Albert; a maid of sorts, as she takes her arm in her own before rising to her feet, patting down her dress and putting on a stylish hat lined with red ribbons before returning Charlie's gaze with a look of intrigue right before it all fades to blue, whisking the lone scientist away back to the 25th century. The only one who would ever remember the existence of his former colleagues.

Veronica

Blinking away the morning sun in the sky, Veronica diverts her attention from the strange phenomenon over to the cool damp pavement, realizing she was sitting on the floor propped up against the building. Recapping the day’s events in her mind as she looks down at her muddied palm.

After waking from a good night's rest, a cool morning shower came next before the taxing process of donning her dress with a little assistance from her loyal maid; Susan, who was hurrying toward her from around the corner she had vanished into earlier to purchase some writing supplies from the local store.

“Lady Veronica?! A-Are you alright? I’m terribly sorry I took so long, please take my hand."

"Thank you Susan. You have nothing to be sorry for so please, raise your head.”

Taking her servant's outstretched hand in her own as she chastises her for her unnecessary apology, Veronica rises to her full height as she pats down her dress while Susan wipes away the mud over the rear, doing the same for her hat as she scoops it up off the ground before passing it to her lady, slipping it over her head.

But despite being in the familiar streets she had crossed many times since her childhood in a less populated and industrialized London, the English woman could feel a heavy weight in her chest, akin to a sensation that something wasn’t quite right here. Gazing back towards the spot by the road where she remembered seeing someone…or something before it vanished as fast as she spotted it.

It was like snapping out of a lucid dream in broad daylight. Like she was forgetting something that ate away at her the longer she dwelled on the idea.

'Was I imagining things back there? I distinctly remember seeing a disturbance in the air right over there…'

Cooking her head to the side, Veronica turns to face her maid as the two resume their walk down the pavement. “Susan? Did you by chance see a strange…disturbance in the air back down the street?”

“I’m sorry to say I haven't Lady Veronica…but I suppose that's why you’ve booked an appointment with the good doctor? It would be unwise to leave such problems unchecked…”

At the mention of a the word, Veronica’s brow twitches for a moment as her mind struggles to make the connection to something on the cusp of remembrance…until an invisible disturbance of air slithers by her head, slipping inside a cute ear and out the other as that tick vanishes from her mind. The last vestige of Albert regressed into the role of Veronica; a highborn noble woman who lived in London back in the 1850’s.

“Ah…quite right Susan…I wonder if William will be around today, Doctor Emma seems to be coming on to him don’t you think?”

“Hmm, I've heard talk of the two being engaged soon actually…in fact I think that might have been them earlier. If we’re too early I’m afraid we might barge in on their privacy~”

“Well then let’s take out time as we go then shall we Susan? Love isn’t something that can be rushed after all~”

Epilogue

Although the brief time travel survey had been a success, the one man party had returned with harrowing news about the journey with his frustrated look silencing the cheers from the team. Claiming to have left with two others in tow that conflicted with the current team members staring in skepticism and nervousness. With the project lead; Vanessa, confronting Charlie's brash claims about her being a replacement.

"Of course you wouldn't know…" A short and curt reply. Although he knew it wasn't her fault, the way he lost two friends within such a short time span to the unsuspecting dangers they hadn't prepared for had left him feeling angsty.

But despite the frosty disagreement between him and the new project lead, Charlie had managed to convince her to halt any more manned expeditions through the time machine until he could come up with a way to prevent anyone else from being affected by whatever temporal event had taken Dexter and Albert.

Work was slow with the unfamiliar territory the team was venturing into, but advancements were becoming apparent with each probe sent back in time to conduct experiments. Even managing to replicate the same fields recorded in Charlie's data from the first survey. Which made the team wonder why Charlie seemed so focused on maintaining a firm watch over a set time period from the early 1800's to the late 1900's in Victorian London. A question one brave intern would one day bring up to Charlie, who had been more or less chosen to lead this new endeavour.

"Umm sir? Why do you keep…y’know…sending probes to monitor that family? We could try going to other periods in time for a change…you look stressed out."

"You might not believe it kid, but that was my friend.. and the high class lady on that other monitor? She was the one who laid the groundwork for the time machine…"

"R-Really? I suppose that's why we're working on this shielding tech…the rest of the seniors don't seem to believe in this project. "

"Can't blame them really…they weren't there to see it happen in the first place. I don't know what 'success' the news painted that survey out to be but losing two good people doesn't sound like much of a success to me…"

Staring back at the monitor as the drones kept watch over a diligent doctor breastfeeding her child and another doing the same with a noble woman teaching her maid how to read and write, the intern raises a brow in wonder.

"I know it isn't my place to say this but…don't you think they look happy?"

"What?"

"I mean…do you really need to 'fix’ things? If we complete the shielding tech, it'll make future expeditions way safer. But…I think you should let them be…I don't think snatching a wife away from her family while doing the same to a compassionate noble would be good. Ahh look at me rambling, I'll get back to work sir. Sorry if I sounded insensitive back there."

He had wanted to tell him it was alright, but the words of his intern had Charlie's mind roiling with his attention falling back onto the screens in front of him; on Dexter enjoying the company of her husband and child and on Albert being a kind hearted noble who never looked down on her servant's, even going so far as to educate them. Before spiriting away a certain maid he assumed to be her aide every night when they had privacy in the estate all to themselves.

"Do I really need to fix things…”

Deep in thought, the weary scientist was left to ponder his next move alone as the intern shuts off his monitor before waving farewell to Charlie, a wistful look in his eyes as he continues to watch the screens…

THE END