“Every animal has evolved to adapt patterns that they follow the moment they are born. Birds fly, fishes walk, and humans – human babies – they cry. Because they know that their parent will assist them the moment they hear their wail. Crying is the most powerful evolutionary pattern ever conceived. An ingrained instinct to ask for help.”

-Erwin Miller, 2213, Homo Sapiens: Our Predecessors

---

Whilst I wasn’t known for eating healthy, I could feel my body fight against the junk food I had eaten as if it were a virus. At least I had the ease of heart knowing that I wouldn’t fall sick because biological human bodies could tolerate a lot of mistreatment.

This time it was Makoto who was following me to Gloria’s shop, unlike… Damn, it has only been a day. A lot has happened in a single day, it feels way, way longer. Is it because of space playing tricks on me, or because I’ve been occupied nonstop? However it may be, that wouldn’t take back that this was only the fifth day on the Terra Nova Enclave. Maybe I should tone down a bit the intensity.

As we already were on the central axis, it didn’t take long to reach the store, though I could have done without the zero gravity elevator shafts. How did old-world astronauts deal with zero gravity with their tummies full?

“Hey, hey!” Gloria’s upper hands saluted us whilst her lower ones supported her body weight on the counter as she slumped forward. “You arrived quickly!”

“A promise is a promise.” I shrugged, acting as casually as possible. I wouldn’t like to even hint at what happened last night. “I bring company if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all!” The seamstress added happily, prancing her way around the counter. “Oh, it’s you, student! The one with the good taste!”

“E-ehm, y-yes. It’s me.” Makoto responded taken aback by Gloria’s antics.

“I’d rather if you don’t make my friend cowl into submission.” I talked to the seamstress.

“Mmm~” She looked at me over the shoulder with an all-knowing gaze, which was an accomplishment all on its own because I was a head taller than her. “Friend, yes, yes.” The seamstress smirked all over us.

“Gloria.” I squinted my eyes and lowered my pitch by a degree.

“I will cower no one into submission.” Gloria slumped her upper body forward as if she was a marionette who had been swung around. “Only if they want.” She added with a smile.

“Good enough for me.” I shrugged.

“Lorem!” Makoto pinched my arm. Scratching myself would have done more damage.

“What? She said she would ask for consent.”

“Consent is hot.” Gloria butted in.

“I can’t deny that.” Makoto chirped in agreement. “But that doesn't mean I want to be cowered into submission by your many, long, delicate hands.”

“Well, you are right that my hands are delicate.” Gloria caressed two sets of hands at the same time. “But I am far prouder of their dexterity. In this case, quantity is equivalent to quality.”

I deadpanned.

Why was everyone always so horny?

I blamed society.

“Ehem.” I cleared my throat to grab their attention. “Can we get down to business or are you going to continue flirting with each other?”

“It’s not flirting, dear.” Gloria clasped each pair of hands together and put each set at opposite cheeks. “It’s… girl praising.”

“Sure.” I didn’t search for further elaboration, for I knew there was none. “You done?”

Gloria tilted her head to the said, gave Makoto a sweet smile, and clapped her hands. “Done, done!”

I had seen many characters over the years, yet Gloria reached the top 3 with ease in a single day. Though considering Mérida was also in that top 3, it said more about my relationships than anything else.

“You’ve got something to drink with you?” I took my flask at the seamstress’ question. “Nice, nice. Then we can stay here.”

“What are you going to do exactly?” Makoto finally removed herself from my back and asked her. 

I don’t know why she acted that spooked when she had met Gloria before me and had seen her just yesterday. Maybe because Mérida wasn’t present? It’s true that Makoto depended too much on our dear linguist.

“Shapeshifting, dear!” Gloria enthusiastically explained. “Dear Lorem and I have established a teacher-student bond.”

From all the possible ways to explain that she was lecturing me on shapeshifting, Gloria had somehow chosen the most peculiar. It wasn’t even lewd, just weird. I know she could have said worse, the problem I had was that no one speaks like that.

“I see. So you are the one who has taught him how to change his skin?”

“He can change his skin?” Gloria’s mask fell off for a moment, showing a face of pure confusion. “I mean, of course, I taught him how to do that!” She clapped powerfully. “Now that we are practicing, why don’t you make a demonstration, dear Lorem?”

I frowned at the fake woman, but I followed her game. She might have not taught me directly how to change my skin color, but she did how to change hair pigmentation, which wasn’t much different.

I uncorked the flask and took a slight swig. There wasn’t much capacity for alcohol, so I didn’t want to run out. Not that I feared doing so, because this vodka was awful. It took me a few breaths to get started, I had no mastery nor muscle memory on the subject, so the process was far from automatic.

My skin began itching as before, not unlike the hot summer sun. Or which was to say, every other day in Nova Jericho. My body, of course, didn’t heat up like my analogy. There were chemical processes taking place to ensure this change, but none exothermal. Up to my knowledge.

“Woah~” I heard the surprised noises of Gloria, and partially Makoto, as I slowly changed. I needed concentration and I kept my eyes closed, but I was nowhere near done. They were just surprised at how my skin was changing colors gradually as if it were a LED display.

It took a couple of more minutes to finish the shapeshifting. By the end, I was panting even if I hadn’t moved an inch.

“Quite the progress, gakusei-kun.” Gloria patted me on the back. I didn’t bother to ask or search what the word meant, even if I knew it was Japanese. Considering Makoto didn’t bat an eye at the word, that meant that it was nothing. Right? “I’ve never seen someone so enthusiastic with shapeshifting before. Are you not happy with your current body, Lorem?”

“No, it’s not that,” I told her. “I’m more than satisfied with my current body.”

“Hmm~” Gloria mumbled to herself, and I barely managed to catch the word ‘satisfied’. “Anyways, why are you so hellbent on shapeshifting? There’s a whole eternity beyond you.”

“Isn’t having the capability to shift my body and learn how to use it more than enough?”

“Nah, not really.” The seamstress rocked a palm back and forth in negation. “Come on, spill it out!”

I sighed. “It’s nothing amazing. I guess it’s because I wanted to be able to fly when I was a kid.”

“I’ve never heard this story,” Makoto commented.

“You’ve seen me building jetpacks,” I added.

“Well, now that you say it… yes, you haven’t really hidden it.” She admitted.

“Oh, jetpacks? Really?” Gloria’s eyes shone with bright pink.

“You are saying it as if it’s an uncommon thing.” I retorted. “That desire to fly is what brought me down my schooling path with all the robotics. Though at some point I gave up, mostly because I discovered that flying was both easy and not as satisfying as I thought.”

“I feel like flying is quite satisfying.” Makoto crossed her arms.

“I’m with osananajimi-chan, here.” Gloria pouted. “Flying is cool!”

“I guess?” I shrugged. “It’s more because it wasn’t as I imagined. Flying is more restrictive than freeing. There’s no freedom of movement whatsoever with traditional machinery. And making actual agile devices ends up in a suit that restricts another type of freedom. I mean, what is there to flying if you can’t feel the air on your skin?”

“True.” The seamstress nodded. “But let’s leave such talks for later. Haven’t you come for a shapeshifting lesson?”

“Indeed,” I nodded.

“If you are so motivated, we can begin with mass shaping already.” As I was about to ask what she meant with mass shaping, she raised a hand. “But first, let’s get some seats. I can’t have you all standing, that would make me an awful hostess.”

Gloria ended up having a lot of different seats in the back store. They were all peculiar, certainly in line with her extravaganza deal, but I could tell the leather armchairs and camping chairs were more than a seat.

“Are these cosplay props?” It was Makoto who asked the question in my mind.

“Yes!” Gloria clapped excitedly. “I always try to get some photos whilst seating, mainly because some cosplays are either too heavy or they don’t have good-looking backs. But I can’t use seats that don’t match the attire, you know?”

“I totally get it.” Makoto nodded enthusiastically.

I didn’t get her hype, but I could understand why you would want to have matching pieces.

All the seats were rather small, mostly Gloria-sized, and she was as small as I originally was pre-evolution. I picked the leather armchair mostly because it was the only one big enough to fit me.

“We are all seated down?” Gloria glanced at us. “Alright, then let’s begin. Mass shaping is exactly what the name implies, you mold your body mass into a shape you want. This is usually combined with mass moving, to repurpose normally useless parts of the body into other places. These two elements are the main players of shapeshifting.”

“I appreciate the theory class, I truly do, but what does this have to do with the lesson.” I tried asking with the most veritable tone possible. I didn’t want to offend her when I was being genuine.

“Today’s lesson is to try to grow a new limb!” The seamstress explained happily.

No really, why does she keep saying the most morbid stuff imaginable with child-like wonder?

“Isn’t that… too advanced?” I expressed my doubt.

“Oh, definitely.” She didn’t even hide it. “I don’t expect you to succeed in this lesson. Well, maybe you could, your evolution is a tier higher than mine, so perhaps it’s easier for you. But no, the whole idea is for you to fail. We, humans, have the capacity to learn from our mistakes, after all.”

Something told me I was about to fail a lot.

“Let’s start with basic mass moving as you have partially nailed down the mass shaping with all that pigmentation change.”

“What do you want me to move?” I asked a bit spooked. There were great things in shapeshifting, but also the horrors…

“Something simple, it shouldn’t take you more than fifteen minutes.” Gloria started. “I want you to make your thumbnail grow. The thumb is the finger with more nerve endings, besides being the meatiest, so the problem you will face is to shift the muscle mass into keratin for the nails.”

“And how am I going to do that?”

“I’m sure you’ll figure out, Lorem-kun.” She dismissed me with a hand.

I deadpanned. “Aren’t you supposed to be the sensei?” I used my limited Japanese knowledge to get back at her.

“Oh, don’t make that face, I was being serious. It’s mostly intuition, and it’s a small change, you should have no issues whatsoever. Just have this image clear, command your leftover thumb muscle mass to gather on the nail and shift into keratin.”

“That sounds complicated,” I added with a dead tone.

“It’s not, I swear!” She pouted. “The brain handles most things unconsciously. You are not at the point of manual shapeshifting yet either way. You wouldn’t be able to do anything. Just close your eyes and try.”

I sighed and did as she instructed. First I took a swig then I focused on my left thumb, bombarding my brain mantras about turning flesh into keratin. All being said, it couldn’t be that complicated if the body already did it on a moment-to-moment basis. Even now, I could feel my nails grow, if I focused. They were the part that grew faster in the body, after all.

“By the way,” Makoto turned to Gloria after I spent a couple of minutes in silence. “Do you speak Japanese? I’ve seen you throwing words and honorifics around, and whilst your pronunciation isn’t bad, I rather get the feeling that you are speaking from memory.”

“Oh, I do know Japanese, okyakusama~” The seamstress giggled. “I do believe that fashion is contained in the language, at least partially, so I’ve learned some language in my spare time. Right now I am fluent in English, Spanish, Italian, French, and Japanese, and I’m trying Chinese now.”

“Woah, that’s a lot of languages,” Makoto replied. “Not even Mérida knows that many.”

“Mérida?” Even though my eyes were closed, I easily imagined Gloria tilting her head in a cutesy way.

“The friend I came with the other day.” Makoto clarified.

“Oh, I see. Is she a language enthusiast?”

“Something like that. She’s a linguist.”

“A linguist, really? On this day and age?”

Gloria was right to be surprised. Most humans either talked English, Spanish, or Chinese, with the great majority of us focusing on English. There were some attempts at instructing Revised Esperanto, but they never ended up clicking. But by what I heard it was gaining traction. Even if humanity was united under one banner, there has never been proclaimed an official language, mostly for the protectionism acts of culture.

“How many does that girl know?” Gloria asked her.

“Hmm, lemme count.” If I wasn’t so focused, I would have done a snark about how she couldn’t tell Mérida’s languages from memory. “English and Spanish, of course.” She began. “Then we have Portuguese, Catalan, and… umm, what was that language, I always forgot about it. It’s one in the Iberian Peninsula, she focused on those languages first.”

“Basque.” I groaned with difficulty.

“Right, Basque!”

“Well, that’s only one less than I!” Gloria laughed. “And she’s only a student.”

“Technically,” Makoto added. “She’s in the evolutionary process right now.”

“My point still stands. I can only imagine how many languages she will know in a few decades if she’s already fluent in 5 at the sweet age of 25.”

“Her whole schtick was to first learn all the languages on the Iberian Peninsula, all historical ones too, so I guess she will go with Latin or Arab next. Though I don’t know that much of history.”

“There was a bit of French control at some point in the peninsula, so she could be inclined to that. French is a lovely language.” Gloria explained in a tranced melody. “Maybe she will try Galician or Occitan.”

“I’ve never heard of those languages. Though to be fair, I had never heard of Catalan before she told me about it.”

“Occitan is a dead language, but Galician still kicks around in some communities. It’s very close to Portuguese, so if she wants to go for quantity, that’s her safest bet.”

“I’ll comment it to her when I see her, then!” For all her previous spook, Makoto had opened up to Gloria with haste. Maybe because the seamstress was of Hispanic origin like Mérida. 

Do we both have something for Latinas? I pondered about it rather than on my shapeshifting. Wait, is it even considered Latina if is it from the Iberian Peninsula, or only if it’s from Latin America? Hmm… I could easily search for the answer on my interface, but if these thoughts hadn’t undone my process, blasting the interface on my brain certainly would.

I closed my ears from the outside world – in a metaphorical sense – and focused on my thumb. Whilst I hadn’t managed to change the flesh into keratin yet, I had accomplished shifting a bit of muscle forward. With my enhanced proprioception I had no need of eyes and I could tell that my thumb was a bulbous mess. Perhaps I overdid with the mass moving. I ought to focus on mass shaping now. 

I had shaped mass before, changing my pigmentation was technically that, but this was fundamentally different. One thing was to change an existing chemical component, and another to transmute the whole thing. I ignored my thoughts about medieval alchemy and focused on the issue at hand. Heh, at hand. I would have slapped myself if that wouldn’t have knocked me right out of my concentration.

Gloria was right, it was an instinctual process, I should let my body do all the work, and it was working. Somewhat. I could feel my hand itch, the flesh I had purposedly moved to turn into fingernails was a bit hotter. The stem cells on my thumb had received the order to mutate, to change from normal fat and muscle to keratin.

I knew it.

I just did.

But… it was soooo slow. This wasn’t shapeshifting. This was just accelerating the normal processes of the body. I wanted true shapeshifting, something out of fantasy and science fiction. And I knew true shapeshifting existed. It was at my fingertips; I could feel it. It was possible with my evolution tier.

I took a deep breath.

Most mammals know how to walk out of the womb. A cow could give birth standing up and her baby could land on all fours and walk away. Cats were born with an instinctual fear of snakes, or at least the pattern recognition in their genome to detect them and avoid them. So why couldn’t I, a biological human, change my body at will?

The answer was simple.

I could.

I just had to do it.

Simple as that.

The bulb on my thumb decreased and the tip of my finger itched.

I opened my eyes, and true enough, there it was. A fingernail so long that it had no right to exist. I twisted my hand around and wielded the blade that popped out of my thumb. It was long enough to be called a dagger.

“Lorem!” Makoto shouted and I could see her pointing at me through the corner of my eyes. “You are bleeding!”

Indeed. My thumb was bleeding. Perhaps it wasn’t healing because I had inflicted myself the wound by growing my fingernail on purpose, the keratin protuberance so big that it scratched my flesh and opened multiple wounds. I would have freaked out if it wasn’t just a small cut, though I won’t deny there was a bit of blood flowing. Woah… And what blood it was. It’s so crimson~ I couldn’t help but be bewitched by its powerful red shade.

“Oh lord…” Then Gloria led her hands to her head and collapsed on the floor.