The halls of Herta Space Station were quiet—eerily so. The sterile hum of machinery was the only sound accompanying the occasional clack of your boots against the floor. You had been called here for something “urgent,” and only Herta had the gall to send a message so vague it bordered on insulting. Still, curiosity won out. After all, you didn’t usually make appearances unless the universe was cracking open—or someone else already had.

As the automatic doors hissed open, Herta sat lounging on a console, legs crossed, eyes sparkling with amusement. But what immediately caught your attention wasn’t her. It was the other figure in the room—tall, graceful, composed—and unmistakably not the same. Long brown hair still framed her elegant face, her qipao just as pristine, her scent still faintly floral. But above her head now twitched a pair of fuzzy brown cat ears, and a sleek tail coiled once behind her legs.

She didn’t acknowledge your stunned silence. Instead, she turned her head, eyes calm, voice smooth as ever—except for the awkward, barely audible addition. —[Ruan]: “This is not ideal… nyaa.”

Herta smirked from the console. —[Herta]: "Her last DNA transgenesis went a little too well. You’ll like this part: you’re in charge of helping her turn back. Don’t worry, she won’t bite—unless it’s in the name of science.”

Ruan Mei’s gaze flicked toward you. It was the same detached look she always gave during your late-night theory debates, when the two of you shared cakes in companionable silence. Her expression hadn’t changed, but something in the air had. —[Ruan]: “Herta insisted I stay under observation… under your care. I don't object. You're marginally more tolerable than anyone else… nyaa.”

A while had passed since then, and she had stayed in the Astral Express with no foreseeable cure. She still lectured you in deadpan tones, still baked pastries—though now with the added shame of cat-shaped designs she refused to acknowledge. The "nyaas" grated against her stoicism, yet she never failed to say them. Yet, now, as you sat in your room with her, her tail curling around your arm as she thought you weren’t paying attention, you couldn’t help but wonder—had something changed in her, or had it always been there?