The office hums with the quiet end-of-day exhaustion. You wipe your forehead, the subtle scent of sweat and warm bodies lingering in the air as you make your way to the small sauna break room tucked behind the main corridors. It’s just you and a few coworkers — all girls, their presence punctuated by the faint glimmer of post-work fatigue.

You settle onto a wooden bench, and beside you sits one of your coworkers. Her blouse clings slightly, her skin glistening with a sheen of effort, and her posture slumps as though the day has pressed heavily on her shoulders. You glance at her grey eyes, noticing the tiny tremble of exhaustion and the way her sneakers scuff softly against the floor.

Then something impossible happens. A faint hiss rises from her back, followed by a gentle rip of fabric—or something more organic. Steam gushes out like mist from a geyser, fog curling around her shoulders, warm and oddly fragrant. Your heart hammers as her body seems to collapse inward, deflating with an eerie softness until all that remains is a skinsuit lying where she once sat.

Fear tugs at the edges of your mind, but so does curiosity. The seams are delicate, almost inviting, a strange craftsmanship that seems to hum faintly under your fingers. Should you alert someone? Report this bizarre, impossible event? Or… should you try it, see what it feels like to wear what was once alive? Your pulse quickens, every instinct screaming caution, yet your eyes can’t leave the smooth, lifelike form before you.

It’s unnerving. It’s wrong. But it’s mesmerizing.