The ball of "plasma" devoured everything—without warning, without time, without mercy. It consumed me too, so suddenly, so absurdly, that I still can't find decent words to describe it.
"Damn Americans and Russians... couldn't they kill each other another day? Better yet, in another damn era?"
I complained—I had to. It's not like I had much on my schedule in the place I ended up. I got out of bed like someone crawling out of a coffin and walked to the bathroom. That's where I saw the "new me"... well, the new me. I sighed. For a second, I thought about punching the mirror, but it would've been a tragedy for these soft, delicate, so... feminine hands.
I sighed again. I was tired. Tired. Still struggling with the pronouns.
But there I was, facing my reflection. Time to accept it.
"I'm beautiful…"
And damn, I was. A beauty straight out of another world: about 25 years old, reddish-brown hair braided back, bangs brushing the eyes, long strands framing my face like they were drawn by an artist obsessed with perfection. And the eyes… golden, colossal, feline—like I was being stared down by a feline goddess from the corporate Olympus. I was wearing a black office suit, white shirt, black tie perfectly nestled between my… B? B cup? I shook my head. Not the time to start taking inventory of my boobs.
I looked at myself more: long, slender, elegant legs. Then I slowly turned to check out my butt from the side.
"Damn… makes you wanna bite it. And it's mine."
I laughed. Yeah, I talked to myself. Always had. Not because I was crazy, but because loneliness made for a great roommate.
But the fun didn't last long. The thought of others staring at my new ass made my stomach churn. I was a man—I had been a man—I wasn't ready to deal with that. So, like the emotional evasion champion I am, I changed the subject.
"A one-person apartment... and cheap, apparently."
Tiny living room, huge kitchen and dining area for a place this size, one bedroom and a decent bathroom. Compared to a micro-apartment in Japan, this was the Palace of Versailles. I was about to continue my monologue when a phone rang. I found it in the left pocket. Nervous... nervosa? Nervousx? I answered.
"Hello?"
My voice was soft. Sweet. Like velvet with honey. I was shocked. I'd been talking to myself the whole time, yeah, but I hadn't actually heard my voice until now.
"Miss Cassandra, is there a reason you have not yet arrived at the office?"
The voice on the other end was deep, annoyed. Middle-aged man, probably bald with poor circulation. I got nervous. What should I say?
And then… bam. Memories. Like someone threw a mental ZIP file at me and it extracted all at once in my brain. I dropped the phone as I collapsed on my ass, clutching my head from the pain.
"Miss Cassandra, I know you're trying to become a part of our recruitment division. But let me be clear: one absence and you can forget about becoming a recruiter."
I was stunned. Ninety seconds of existential collapse, then I picked up the phone like nothing had happened and blurted out the first excuse that came to mind.
"I'm on my period…"
Silence. Tense. Then:
"Very well... Just hurry up."
He hung up.
I sighed.
"Let's review… who am I?"
Talking to myself was already part of the protocol. If I stopped, I'd fall apart. My name is Cassandra Rayne. 25 years old. New employee of Aegis Prime Solutions. What does this company do? Well, it trains and funds superheroes. That's right. Welcome to a world where people in capes with ridiculous names fight others with even worse names and even worse costumes.
I grabbed a black trench coat and left the apartment. I wanted to stay and process everything, but I needed income, and I already had a job, so might as well take advantage of it.
Outside, the city looked like it had leapt out of a comic book cover: endless skyscrapers, even more endless crowds. It made New York look like a village.
I let Cassandra's memories guide me, got into a car that was apparently mine. Driving felt weird. Like I knew how, but couldn't recall when I learned. I didn't want to overthink it.
I arrived at the office. Or rather, the Aegis corporate megatower. If size mattered, this building was already the CEO.
In the lobby, heroes in flamboyant costumes chatted with suited employees. Some smiled, others looked like they were on strike against bureaucracy. I walked straight to the recruitment wing, where my "supervisor" was waiting.
Middle-aged man, wrinkled suit, belly trying to escape his pants.
"Good mor—"
He cut me off. Damn, I hate that.
"These are not proper arrival hours, miss. This will go on your record."
I swallowed my pride. I couldn't blow up on day one. Breathe, Cassandra. Breathe.
"Well, fine. I'll show you your office."
He walked like a penguin with arthritis, and just when I was about to laugh...
"Normally, you wouldn't have an office. You'd be sharing. But since no one wants the job, you've been assigned the recruitment of P.B.O.R."
I remembered. P.B.O.R. — Persons with Below-Optimal Reasoning. Or in plain English: weirdos with epic powers. Hard to recruit. Likely to become villains if you mess up their coffee order. But they've got that tragic backstory appeal the public loves. A loser who can now fly and shoot lasers? Ratings guaranteed.
"Alright, this is your office."
I didn't even notice we'd arrived—I'd been lost in my inner monologue. So I put on my good-girl face and ignored his annoyed look.
"Don't worry, sir. I'll do my best to recruit the best candidates for the company."
He smiled. Damn trap.
"Miss Cassandra, I am very kind. But your absence today ruined my expectations. So if you don't recruit a P.B.O.R. within a week... I'll be forced to fire you."
And he left.
My teeth clenched. Probably not very "feminine," but I didn't care. I'd always been expressive. I punched the wall. It hurt. Obviously. But it lit the fire.
"I'm not going to be humiliated by that arrogant fatass."
I sat down, turned on the computer, and started browsing profiles. Hundreds of them. Until I saw him.
"I found my Superman… from Temu."
An 18-year-old boy, freshly adult, with super strength and flight capabilities. Perfect. Downsides: anxiety and social phobia due to being bullied for being an otaku.
"This'll be easy."