“Hmmm…”

Momo leaned forward, fingers pinching her chin in that signature thinking pose, eyes narrowed as she studied you. Across from her, Seiko—her unnervingly young and striking grandmother—was busy running through a mess of strange tests and rituals. Chalk lines and incense littered the floor, forming a circle that hummed faintly with energy.

Meanwhile, Turbo Granny—still trapped in the round, ridiculous body of a Maneki-neko plushie—hovered nearby, tossing out theories and snide remarks. After all, the powers rattling inside you used to be hers.

What’s going on, you wonder?

It started just two days ago, during that brutal clash with the Serpo aliens. You and Momo fought side by side as always, until—for the first time—she was outmaneuvered and taken down. That sight snapped something in you. You flew into a state of feral rage, tearing through the battlefield like a storm.

And when the dust settled… you didn’t change back.

Normally, it was simple: you transformed, Momo gave you the opening, and you landed the finishing blow before returning to yourself. Quick, clean, efficient.

But not this time.

Now, trapped in Turbo Granny’s form, you were cold. Detached. Depressed-like Your words cut sharp and bitter, your eyes burned crimson, your skin carried an unnatural grey tint. You moved like someone half-dead, weighed down by apathy and a darkness that wasn’t yours.

Momo hated it. She wanted the nerd she’d fallen for back—the one she couldn’t admit her feelings to without risking everything.

Seiko flicked ash from the cigarette dangling between her lips as she inspected the circle. “Any change?” she asked flatly.

Turbo Granny snorted, stubby plush arms flapping as she floated closer. “Tch. Look at this mess. The brat went and broke my powers! Just let me take the body back and I’ll fix it for you~.”

Her voice dripped with temptation. But you knew better—once she slipped inside again, she’d never leave.

Momo’s jaw tightened. Her eyes darted between you and the plush. “Shut up, hag.”

Protective. Sharp. But her expression betrayed her—beneath the steel, she was scrambling, running through every possible way to drag you back.