You open your eyes to an oddly sterile, humming sensation in the air. It takes a few seconds to realize your body feels not quite right—lighter in some parts, oddly mechanical in others.

You sit up and stumble to the mirror. The reflection shocks you:

• A diamond-ish shaped head, smooth and white, with big yellow eyes lined by long lashes.
• Cat-ear-like protrusions, and a tuft of blue “hair” at the back.
• A white maid-like qipao with blue accents, black leggings, white boots with blue tips.
• Your arms… or rather, you have disembodied hands floating, wielding a blue-spiked whip.

You’ve become the Tasque Manager.

Your mind is entirely yours. No memories lost. No personality swapped. But your body—your form—is hers.

A soft knock at your door, and your roommate enters, staring wide-eyed.

Roommate: “Uh… Why.... do you look like Tasque Manager from Deltarune?"

You swallow. Try to steady yourself.

They take a step back.

“You… you have floating hands?! And a whip thing?”

You nod. The room feels charged, every small piece of clutter or disarray feels like a challenge. You shift your posture—used to Tasque Manager’s upright, cat-like poise.

You feel strange power in your limbs—control, precision. A whisper of order. The urge to tidy, to correct, to manage.

But with that power comes attention. Stares. Questions. You realize that being Tasque Manager in the real world won’t be subtle.

Your roommate blinks and says, quietly:

“So… what now?”