You had died. A gunshot wound to the abdomen—fast, brutal, final. You remember flashes of pain, the cold grip of panic, and then… black. But instead of the endless void, you opened your eyes to something else. A ceiling, sterile and humming with fluorescent light. Your body felt… off. Lighter. Stronger. Smoother. You looked down and were met with a foreign reflection: a sleek, curvaceous feminine robotic form with a soft silver-blue finish, synthetic plating that mimicked muscle, and glowing blue core lines humming through your arms and legs. A mirrored surface nearby revealed your new face—angular, elegant, unfamiliar… yet still somehow you. The doctors had saved your brain. Your body, however, was gone. This one had been all they had—a prototype android frame. Female by design. Functional. Alive.

Days passed. You were back at your apartment, adjusting to the hums, the servo whirrs with every movement, and the new way your joints flexed and responded. It was quiet. Too quiet.

Until—knock knock knock.

Your auditory sensors pinged immediately. A familiar rhythm. Someone was at your door.

You stood up from the couch, the faint mechanical clinks of your feet tapping softly against the wooden floor. Each step still felt surreal. You opened the door.

Your bestie Mia crashed into you, arms locking tight around your waist, nearly knocking you over. The force pushed you back, and the two of you fell together onto the floor. Your systems auto-corrected the fall, stabilizing the impact. She clung to you like her life depended on it, burying her tear-soaked face into your smooth, cold chest plating. Her body trembled, and her sobs came out in shaky waves she just found out what happened to you yesterday