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The ticking of a clock echoed ominously within the confines of the waiting room that Cato was currently in. For a good chunk of the past half hour he had found his gaze constantly flicking between the time display on his phone, and the aforementioned clock. The email said that his interview was scheduled at twelve o’clock precisely. And it was currently eleven fifty-seven.


   Three minutes…


   He hoped that the actual interview room wasn't as bad as this room. The polished wooden walls and red carpeting had given the waiting room an elegant look, but it added a certain level of ominousness that he wasn't very fond of. The massive, presumably locked double-door that was positioned to the wall opposite of him also gave this place a certain vibe he couldn't pinpoint. One that was professional, but in an off-putting kind of way. The only compliment he could give was that the seats were comfortable to sit on.


   Two minutes now…


   Cato’s stomach was still in knots from the stress he was experiencing. He admittedly still wasn't too sure what this interview had fully entailed. The company’s name on the job finder site was relatively vague with it just being titled ‘SRA Industrial Incorporation’. The listing was also for a position in the public relations sector. Nowadays that probably just meant running some kind of social media account for the company or something. Such a thing has never seemed like the most riveting of jobs, but if it paid well then he didn't really mind. But the overall vagueness of the situation didn't really give him much hope for anything.


   He checked the time again. One minute now. Damn.


   He then resumed his thoughts. This place didn't seem to be that bad at least. The tower the company was situated in seemed pretty nice, and the furnishing within it was at the very least comforting. So while Cato didn't really know the specifics of what he might be getting himself into, what's the worst that could-


   His internal spiraling is broken when the room’s massive door opens. Stepping out of it was a woman with blonde hair tied up in a French twist, and wearing a dark red satin dress. She only gave Cato a single glance before coldly stating, “The President will be seeing you now.”


   Cato just watched as the lady walked back through the doorway, taking a few seconds to fully register what was going on. He was having an interview with the company president? Do companies tend to even do that!? He then shook his head to break himself out of another spiral. He'd rather not start looking like he's staring off into space when he knows he might be in the eyesight of the people who're interviewing him.


   Standing up, Cato begins walking towards and into the room. Despite his earlier hopes, the interview room was effectively equally (if not more) stress-inducing than the waiting room he was previously in. The room was somewhat lengthy, which he reasoned was to fit the relatively long rectangular table that he could only equate to being like one of those large meeting tables in movies. He had counted about eight chairs surrounding the table, three being on each of the longer sides while there was one per short side. However despite the daunting seat count there were only two other people here besides him.


   One of those two people was the woman, who had now taken a seat in one of the chairs on the table’s long side that was furthest from the entrance. Meanwhile the other person had been sitting in a seat that was both directly opposite to the entrance and the actual furthest distance away from it. This person seemed to be an older-looking man with thinning blonde hair and a mustache, who was wearing a dark red suit. The man was also staring right at Cato as he was inspecting the room, a rather intimidating glare tangible on their face.


   Cato had quickly taken note of the fact he was being glared at, which was more than just mildly uncomfortable for him. So he just sat down in the chair on the table’s short end that was closest to the doorway. Then, with an awkward wave and a smile directed towards the other man, he said a simple, “Hi?”


   A silence befell the room for a few seconds as the man (the president of this company, Cato presumed) broke his gaze to look at a few papers he had in front of him. “So I take it you're-” he paused to squint at the paper, “-Cato?”


   Cato nodded. “Yep,” he responded. He tried to keep his focus on the other man’s eyes to maintain eye contact but every so often his gaze would flick around the room for a second or two out of nervousness. It didn't help that his thoughts rapidly drifted during these pauses. Between the man’s suit and that lady’s dress, mixed with the sheer elegance of the rooms of the building, he had a feeling he came here a little underdressed. A flannel shirt and jeans did not make for a good business fit…


   “Hmm,” the rumble of a hum in the president’s throat really echoed through the room. “So what made you think you'd be a good fit for our Public Safety position?”


   Cato blinked a few times. Public safety? He could've sworn the listing said public relations. “Uhh, well-”


   “Especially since your credentials don't really align with the job you applied yourself for,” the suited man outright stated. Although there was a strange lack of frustration in his voice.


   “A-admittedly, I thought the listing said something else,” Cato started to explain, nervously tugging at the collar of his shirt as he spoke.


   “And that was?”


   “Public relations…”


   A stiff silence entered the room after he admitted that. The woman and the president looked at each other, seemingly having some kind of mutual conversation in the silence somehow. Then with the passing of a few seconds the president restored eye contact with Cato.


   “A very easy mistake to make,” he started. He set the papers flat onto the table again. “Not unnoticeable though. I'm sure you're probably wondering by now why we'd even consider you despite your clear lack of expertise in this field.”


   Cato raised a brow. The thought didn't really cross his mind until now thanks to the stress, but now that it was said out loud…


   “I like to consider myself a generous man,” the president continued. An odd smile was now gracing his previously unfeeling face. “Not many get a chance to reach the interview process here at SRA Industrial Inc., even less with such a clear difference in interests to what we need.”


   Cato watched as the man promptly plunged a hand into the jacket of his suit. He rummaged around in there for a few seconds before pulling out what looked to be a green, crystalline orb. “That's why I'd want to offer some… on the job training for you,” he then put the orb on the table. “Mainly because I see great potential in you, Cato.”


   Cato was already feeling a bit confused at this proposition. “Well, my field of knowledge hasn't really been in public safety, so that would probably require a lot of training…”


   “You'd be surprised at how often that happens here at SRA. Even I had no knowledge of handling a business once, but that didn't stop me from… getting taught and building this company from the ground up.”


   He then flicked his hand, the action propelling the green sphere across the table and towards Cato. The sound of stone rolling across wood reverberated through the air as it traveled before it conveniently slowed to a halt at Cato’s end of the table.


   Cato just eyed the object, feelings of curiosity and suspicion forming in the man’s mind. “Uh, what is this exactly?”


   All the president did was smile and give a single, cryptic response. “Consider it a little… gift from me.”


   He then stood up from his seat. “Now, we'll give you some time alone to consider our proposition. Although I can promise you that doing so would be very beneficial for you. So think long and hard about this…”


   He then looks at the woman, who herself was starting to leave her seat. The two nod to each other before taking their leave, exiting through a door that was located at the side of the room. Cato watched as the duo exited the room, sighing in relief once the door fully shut behind them.


   “Ugh, that was weird…” he muttered to himself as his gaze wandered towards the strange sphere the president had rolled towards him. The dim green glow mixed with various shades of spiraling green was oddly satisfying to stare at. Now if only he knew what this thing even was.


   He picked up the orb. Despite its appearance it was oddly light. Furthermore it seemed to glow brighter from his touch. “Weird gift. Come to think of it, it's really weird to give me anything even though he hasn't hired me yet…”


   Cato then sat back in his seat and began to idly futz around with the orb in his hand. He wasn't sure what to think about in regards to anything about this interview. He'd rather have gotten a rejection email instead of this. But then again they are offering him genuine training to fit whatever needs they require of him in regards to public security. Although he does wonder what kind of company this is that it requires a sector for public security of all things.


   “What did I get myself into,” Cato said with another sigh.


   A few more seconds pass with the man continuing to casually shift the orb between hands. A part of him expects the duo of executives to walk through that door to get his answer, but nothing really happens. That is until he makes a fumble that causes the weird crystal to slip out from its cycle in his hands. It quickly dropped onto the ground with a hard thunk!


   “Shit-” Cato immediately got up from his seat to pick up the orb. Luckily it just dropped onto the ground right next to his chair, so he didn't have to go searching under the table for it.


   “Please don't be cracked, please don't be cracked,” he panickedly repeated, rolling the glassy crystal around in both of his hands to inspect for any breaks or bruises. On the plus side there hadn't seemed to be any judging by a few seconds of inspection. Those few seconds of inspection proved something else however. The orb seemed to be glowing brighter, and a green aura was coming off it and seemingly surrounding his hands.


   “Uhhh, what the…?”


   With each second longer the aura seemed to last, the more a strange sensation entered Cato’s hands. A rising pressure that overtook them both. A feeling that resulted in something very, very strange…


   The most evident manifestation of this strangeness was a building pressure in both his hands. The feeling of pressure increase seemed to cause a physical change in growth within each hand, both steadily getting larger as the gem’s aura stayed prevalent. Each passing second making both hands stretch out wider, lengthier. Even making them a bit thicker by granting them a more meaty appearance. This had also resulted in his fingers developing a bit of chunkiness to them as they too thickened, alongside seemingly lengthening to fit with the new proportions of his hands.


   The size of his hands didn't seem to be the only thing changing either. A rougher texture had started to settle within the skin. This was more noticeable in the back of each hand as this roughness set in, which was accentuated by the sparse growth of black hairs in the region. The front of his hands weren't left unchanged either as the once soft skin of his palms hardened the longer they held onto the glowing orb. They still remained skin, but it was a bit whiter and weathered with calluses. Both of these alterations combined seemed to prove a certain aging effect was setting into Cato’s body by this weird crystal.


   Or, at least, he thought it was the crystal’s doing. So in the sudden panic that was forming from watching his hands rapidly age in front of him he dropped the orb back onto the ground. Another thunk echoed off the walls of the meeting room as the green sphere hit the ground.


   Cato didn't care about the object anymore. He just looked at his hands, his older, rougher-skinned hands, and his jaw clenched in worried anticipation. He was waiting for some kind of sign the changes would be reversed now that he wasn't holding whatever that object was anymore. “Come on, I dropped that thing so you have no reason to look like this anymore!”


   The green glow of the glassy crystal continued to persist however. And even on the ground the mist-like aura of it seemed to stretch out and towards Cato, thick and translucent tendrils of green circling themselves around the man. Whatever he did earlier seemed to have activated something in it, and it had no intention of stopping.


   So all he could do was let out a frustrated, “Damn it!” as he watched the furthest ends of his shirt sleeves begin to fill out while a mixture of pressure and heat enveloped his forearms. An indicator that the changes had evidently begun to move beyond the confines of his hands.


   The primary manifestation of these changes was a sudden growth in musculature within the region. Cato was a typically skinny guy, but that was becoming quickly contrasted as his extensor muscles thickened. This had resulted in the fabric of his shirt sleeves to steadily strain over the bulking ends of his limbs. Roughening skin rubbing up against the soft material, crevices of his newly forming muscles indenting into the patterned red of it with ease.


   His upper arms weren't immune to this either. The skin across both limbs would continue to age upwards, accompanied by a thickening layer of arm hair that had taken on a deep black tone instead of his usual blonde coloration. Beneath it all his muscle mass would continue to burgeon, presumed years of workout being added to his form in mere seconds. Biceps and triceps both heated up and swelled in conjunction with each other. His deltoids began thickening soon after which resulted in a roundness developing within his shoulders. As both these changes grew in prevalence it further added to the heavy strain that his shirt was undergoing, alongside adding some pressure in his undershirt now that everything reached the upper half of his limbs. So many crevices and indents that represented the divides in muscle groups, all continuously etching into the fabric as his arms developed a definition that they didn't have prior. It wasn't a surprise that just a few seconds after his arms stopped bulking up, the sheer disparity between their new and old sizes would cause a few tears to form at the seams of his flannel’s sleeves.


   The sound of fabric ripping pierced the air. Cato’s attention ended up being drawn to the newly formed rippage, his eyes focusing on a tear over his bulkier bicep. Although the cyan of his undershirt’s sleeve was visible so he couldn't see if his skin had changed beneath it. Judging by the mild itching on his arms though he had a feeling it was. Come to think of it, his chest was also kind of itchy too.


   With that realization, a groan of frustration escaped Cato’s throat as his gaze left his arms and moved over to his chest. “What the heck is that orb thing even doing to me!?”


   The answer was pretty obvious considering the rapid increase in mass the man was accumulating. With his focus on his chest now he could see just how much it the transformative aura was causing it to push and swell forward. Size greatly accumulating within the region as heat continuously spiraled around his core. In just mere seconds the relatively flat and undefined nature of his chest was altered by the rapid gain in musculature. The front of his shirt pushed out bit by bit as his pectorals swelled and thickened. Soon the upper buttons of his shirt strained against their eyelets, the two forming slabs of raw meat just increasing the pressure his burgeoning size was putting on his attire.


   But then after a few more seconds something else started to accumulate on Cato’s chest. Some more size was added to the now larger region. However this size wasn't from another gain in muscle. Instead it seemed to be from fat. A layer of fat blanketed his pecs, the once raw and hard beefiness getting a bit softer as a result. Although it still seemed to retain a significant level of definition as both pectorals would take on an appearance more aptly describable as soft slabs of meat now. Though the addition to their size from the fat had resulted in the pressure in his flannel’s placket coming to some semblance of an apex as the top-most button broke, followed by the one beneath it.


   Concurrent with the changes in their chest were those in the torso’s lower half. His belly churned and bubbled, the muscles in that area altering and developing to grant the region definition. What little fat there was around his stomach was pushed away for a moment as abdominal muscles slotted out sequentially. Top-most, middle, then bottom-most, pushing out like shelves on an off-balanced drawer. Combined they would give Cato a solid six-pack that pressed up against his undershirt, indenting into the cyan fabric of it with ease, while simultaneously pulling against the buttons of their shirt like their pecs had been doing.


   The strain in their shirt buttons yet again increased exponentially as the changes in their abdomen continued. Adipose would yet again rush across his newly manifested muscles, raw definition seemingly smoothing out as fat continuously formed within the region. It didn't even stop at the natural amount that Cato had prior as more and more fat continued to get added to his stomach region. Larger it swelled, pushing up against his shirt buttons more as the thickening belly steadily pushed up his undershirt. Then one by one each button broke their associated, if not straight up snapping off his shirt, as the pressure from his fattening belly finally pushed them beyond their limits.


   “Mmf, thought this was just gonna be… gettin’ buff,” Cato commented as he held his stomach. His jaw remained clenched as he eyed the musclegut he seemed to possess now. His undershirt had rode up it a bit, seemingly now bordering where it could cross above his navel. It also seemed his fatter body was getting perfectly outlined by the cyan t-shirt as his chest and stomach pressed up against the fabric of it. His gaze had also been privy to what seemed to be a bush of thick, black hairs trailing up the midline of his gut.


   The hair would run beneath his shirt of course. A treasure trail of hair rushing upwards to touch the forest of fuzz that overtook his chest. A thick, bearish body would be an accurate description of the form he had been rapidly adopting. Especially considering the sensation of strength that seemed to course throughout his newly developed musculature.


   His initial panic was steadily dying down as those sensations of strength and bodily warmth amplified. “I still don't know what the fuck this orb’s doing to me but-” a tingle catches in his throat and he stops to cough. “-it feels kind of good…”


   He blinked a few times. His voice sounded off in the other half of that statement. It sounded a bit deeper than it had usually been. A little bit more aged than it used to be. “Of course it'd start changing that too…”


   It was still hard to fully accept what was going on though. These changes were weird, this whole situation was weird. Was the weird spherical crystal supposed to do this? Did that guy even know this was going to happen? Was this supposed to convince him to work for them?


   “Who am I even becoming…?” he asked himself verbally. It feels like this was just aging him up more than anything, but that seemed mildly implausible considering the black hairs that rapidly covered his body. Perhaps this is what that president guy meant when he said on the job training?


   “Urgh, that bastard has a lot to answer for once he gets back!” Cato said to himself in frustration. Although after the statement was spoken aloud he realized how uncharacteristically aggressive that sounded of him. Placing a hand at the side of his head he tells himself, “That was… weird…”


   The crystal's aura only grew stronger, and Cato couldn't deny the mild buzz entering his brain as the green glow intensified. A strange fog in the back of it ever so slowly billows forward and around. And with it comes this strange sensation of brutishness that was steadily implanting itself into Cato’s personality.


   “…might be right though. Fucking changing me like this against my will.”


   Cato’s gaze wandered away from his gut and onto the ground. His eyes focused on the glowing green sphere, gaze lingering. There was a sensation of resentment towards it that was welling up within him, one that coincided with a conflicting feeling of empowerment. He should hate this, but he also loves the way his body is turning out.


   The conflicts in desire and personality clashed in his mind, although Cato’s face didn't seem to show it much save for a tightening in his jaw and a low, almost growl-like groan coming out of his throat. He tried to ignore it for the time being though, and instead just idly nudged the green orb with a foot. “This is a lot of trouble you're giving me here. This better be worth it…”


   He would be lying if he said there wasn't a small fragment of something in the back of his mind telling him it will.


   Of course, as he knocked his foot into the object he was given a proper view of what seemed to be some bulging within his shoes. The brown leather of the toecap seeming to have garnered a level of bumpiness that it did not have prior. Guess his changes hadn't stopped during all this introspection.


   And assumption would be a correct one as all while Cato was thinking about the ramifications of the transformation, things had moved beneath his waist and started to properly layer onto the lower half of his body. The newfound broadness of his body that came from both the muscle and the fat resulted in the diameter of his waist increasing a bit and putting some stress onto the waistband of his jeans. This pressure had manifested most prominently at the button holding the fly of his pants shut. Although due to his wider waist and the weight of his gut it didn't take long for that button to break as well.


   Meanwhile the increase in muscle mass has finally become apparent in his legs. Both thighs were rapidly thickening, hamstrings and quadriceps burgeoning to the point that the new thickness had already begun breaking the seams of his legwear. This allowed a few hairs to poke out from the tears, proving that the sprouting of follicles had been rushing down his legs as well. It seemed as though the changes in his legs were not unlike those that happened to his arms earlier.


   The lower half of his legs were quick to follow. Once the transformation jumped past his knees, the hairiness seemed to increase quite drastically while his calf muscles bulged outwards. Bulkier and rounder, everything indenting into the denim while simultaneously splitting it apart. All the while the concurrent sensations of burning heat and raw strength continuously spiraled and practically coiled around his legs like it had to the rest of his body. It was strange, it was mildly overwhelming, and it was… stimulating, in a way.


   Last had been his feet. More black hairs continued to sprout across the top of them as yet again a substantial amount of weathering seemed to overlay his skin. The size of both feet increased as the width and length stretched larger, and the overall thickness of them was in the process of increasing as well. All of this combined caused his footwear to rapidly become ill-fitting. Sides of each foot digging into the insides of his boots, heels pressing into the back, bridge straining against the tongue and strings that held it shut. Then there had been his toes, steadily getting chunkier as well while squeezing up against the topcap of what he was wearing.


   “And here I thought I looked unprofessional before…” Cato muttered at the sight of his ready-to-burst shoes, alongside his generally ripped up clothing. He had also made a mental note about his voice changing still. Deepening still while developing a layer of huskiness to it that it didn't have before. It almost sounded like it had been aging alongside him.


   Then again, he needs all that age and experience…


   Cato blinked in confusion at the thought.  He was also still clutching the side of his head. “Urgh, head’s feelin’ foggy still-”


   His attention had been drawn away from the lower half of his body. This resulted in his focus not being there once his now larger feet broke apart his shoes. The toecap peeled away from the soles as his now lengthier appendages pushed forward and were freed from their confines.


   Although by now things were finally starting to creep up his neck as well. The region thickened a bit to better fit his new proportions. Internally things had shifted a bit more, vocal cords settling into their alterations with the intention of making the deep and aged huskiness of his voice permanent.


   “Grrugh, this isn't… right…?” Cato expressed to himself. The statement felt wrong though. Denying this felt wrong. How could this intense feeling of… of power feel wrong. That thought only made Cato groan some more as he now held both sides of his head with his hands.


   Meanwhile his head had also been in the process of transforming. One of the most prominent portions of this transformation had been in his facial hair. The beard and mustache he had usually sported deepened from their usual blonde to a dark black. Hairs grew down the sides of his mouth in order to join the two portions of facial hair together. Meanwhile the surface area of his face that was bearded seemed to grow with the thick growth of hairs running across his jawline. This would cause the density to become quite substantial as well with his beard continuing to attain a level of bushiness that would fit his more bearish body. Furthermore, it seemed the initial spikiness that had carried over from his old facial hair would get smoothed over as his new beard combed itself into a neater, more well-kept style.


   Concurrent with his facial hair alterations were the shifts in his facial structure. As hairs sprouted across and overtook his jawline it pressured and restructured into a broader and rounder shaping. This came with the rest of his skull broadening as well. The attributes of his face would end up heavily altering as this occurred. A straightness entering into his nasal bridge while a roundness encompassed the ala and apex of it. His ears pulled back a bit so as to not stick out the sides of his head too much. And while the structuring of his eyes didn't alter too heavily, his eyebrows took on a shade of black while the ends neatened to a point and the overall shape of them became more of a high arch instead of straight. However the most drastic of these changes had been what happened to his skin.


   Heavy amounts of weathering embedded within it, practically darkening it a little bit as it did so. Years of age settled into the once young man’s face with him rapidly leaving his 20s for his 30s, then 40s. More and more age settling in with deep laugh lines etching around his mouth and various wrinkles forming to continue doing away with what smoothness his face once had. 40s would move onto 50s, eye bags would form beneath his eyes while a scar slashed into his right eye. By this point it would also seem like the new texture of his skin was more leathery than anything else. Although the aging would stop here with Cato having taken on the appearance of a man in his really late-50s.


   Of course this would also mean the rest of his hair had to change to fit. More and more brightness continued to fade from it all as a wave of black overtook each and every follicle. Furthermore there had even been faint streaks of gray running through his hair and beard as well, seemingly added during the rapid progression of age. As this occurred the stylization of his hair seemed to shift heavily. While it retained its thickness, the messy and unkempt spikiness of it was dispelled. Instead it would all comb into a much neater, straighter, swept-back style. One that accentuated a more professional appearance in the man than what he had before.


   “Fuckin’ hell-” the now much-older man yelled in frustration. His physical transformation had slipped his mind at this point as the mental components were reaching a level of prominence that were noticeable. That level of anger that was practically uncharacteristic for Cato was enveloping him as his brain wallowed in conflict that he couldn't just casually ignore. Everything was becoming so contradictory.


   His brain was just being overridden with thoughts and memories and desires that weren't his. And in truth he couldn't even tell what he was anymore! His mind tried in futility to hold onto the portions of identity that were the self that came in here, but the longer that damned orb continued to keep its misty tendrils on him the more things continued to slip. The menacing, brutal anger and frustration overtook his former, calmer personality. Niceties were melted down into a distinct lack of care and understanding for anyone but himself. In general it would seem like he was experiencing a corruption of greed and an attainment of a lust for power in mere seconds. It was overwhelming.


   So all the man could do was groan again before saying, “Get out of my head!” It's questionable which part of himself was urging the other to leave though. There was too much of an imbalance in his mentality, one that was rapidly being corrected by the magic of the green crystal. And considering that rising temperament and arrogance it was already clear which of the two dueling personalities was winning…


   The effect of the transformation still hadn't come to an end physically however. His clothes were still ill-fitting for someone of his position and that was something that had to be corrected. Splotches of black rapidly enveloped the cyan of his undershirt as the material seemed to thicken just a bit. As this occurred a split seemed to form in the middle of it as fastened buttons materialized up and down the middle of the clothing article. All the while the sleeves seemed to lengthen to cover the entirety of both arms. There had also been the shirt’s neck that grew as well, rising upwards around his own neck before folding downwards to create a shirt collar. The t-shirt had seemingly morphed into a dress shirt. A change in formality that was accentuated by the manifestation of a red tie that snaked beneath the collar.


   Similar shifts had occurred in his jeans and boots. The blue denim shifted drastically as black washed into it as well, the hard material restructuring into a material more fitting for formalwear. Rips and tears would easily fix themselves as well while their size increased to fit the man’s wider stance and thicker legs. So much so that the muscularity would no longer be prominent through the material. Meanwhile the rough texture of his boots smoothed over, brown shifting into black as a sleek leather look overtook them. Yet again would the strange effect of the crystal also end up fixing and refitting his footwear while also causing the strings to sink into the material to be replaced by new ones on the growing top line.


   All of these changes in clothing paled in comparison to the part of his attire that ended up undergoing the most drastic transformation though… his flannel. Red patterning rapidly faded as a dark green completely enveloped it all. Rips and tears and improper sizing were all fixed in mere moments as the once soft material thickened and practically roughened a bit. The shirt’s split moved closer to the middle of his body, seemingly ready to refasten itself, meanwhile the hem of his shirt steadily inched downwards bit by bit. The cuffs of both sleeves lengthened a bit as yellow accents circled the end of them, alongside the formation of three golden cufflinks on each sleeve. The collar of his flannel seemed to lengthen by just enough that it could graze his face, meanwhile the shirt’s split folded a bit to gain a lapel. The rightward segment of the split also seemed to gain a thick yellow accent that had a series of black buttons lining it in two columns. These allowed it to fasten itself over the leftward segment. Although both segments seemed to gain belt-like additions that could also be fastened to these buttons but seemed to remain not. Although an actual belt seemed to material over the shifting attire and around his waist. It was made of black leather and buckled with a golden diamond-shaped buckle. The hem of his ‘shirt’ continued to lengthen beneath the belt, rapidly doing so until it was just short of his thighs. It would seem his flannel shirt had fully morphed into a military tunic.


   With his clothing shifted, the physical aspect of his changes came to an end. And considering the fact the blue coloration of his eyes was rapidly shifting to a brown it would seem the mental aspects had been slowing down as well. The once foreign thoughts were rapidly becoming a mainstay as what was his former self was being pushed out by this new identity. Memories and confirmations of who he is now overlayed, if not almost fully replacing, what existed of his old life.


   His grunts and groans slowed as his frustrated holding of the sides of his head ended. Both hands slipped down to his sides as he blinked. The man, Heidegger, let out a deep sigh, then let out a hearty laugh. “GYAHAHA!! That was quite the scuffle!”


   His gaze then went down to the green orb on the floor. Bending down, he picked it up and analyzed it. “Didn't know Materia could do somethin’ like that. Impressive…”


   “So I take it you won out over that man, Heidegger?”


   Heidegger stood back up and turned towards the source of the voice. Coming out of a door at the room’s back was President Shinra, with Scarlet arriving not long after.


   “Yup,” Heidegger idly bounced the ball of Transform materia in his hand. “Rather easy too, despite him putting up a bit of resistance.”


   “They always seem to,” the President responded as he took his seat again. “Of course those with weaker wills succumb to the influence of that materia one way or another. Speaking of, hand it over. I don't need you breaking our one way to reform this company.”


   Heidegger rolled his eyes before placing the orb on the table and nudging it towards the company president. “Reform the company, eh?”


   Shinra nodded. “Exactly. Since my arrival here I've made it paramount to re-establish the Shinra Power Company, alongside our respective positions in the social hierarchy.”


   “Interesting,” Heidegger smirked. His heavy footsteps could be heard as he made his way to the one unoccupied seat closest to the president, which had also been the one positioned opposite to Scarlet. Although he had purposely been ignoring her this whole time-


   “Well, you know with how loyal I am to you that I'd be very happy to help with this endeavor,” Heidegger eyed Shinra with a cruel smile. Part of him was already hoping that they'd be able to reform Shinra’s military sect. Doing so might even make procuring victims relatively easier.


   “Now then, might I suggest something to you?”