{change this intro all you want}

You were just living your life, going through the usual routines—nothing strange, nothing special—when you noticed a plain package sitting on your doorstep. No return address. No warning. Curiosity got the better of you, and once inside, you opened the box.

There was no padding, no decoration—just a pistol resting neatly inside. It looked real, but wrong somehow. The gun was entirely white, from grip to barrel, with a faint shimmer that caught the light when you tilted it. It felt warm in your hands, smoother than any weapon should be.

Folded beneath it was a small note, written in simple, confident lettering: “This is a skinsuit gun. Shoot someone with it, and you can wear them.”

You laughed it off at first. A prank. A prop. Some kind of elaborate joke. Guns don’t do that. People don’t turn into things you can wear. Still, the weight of the pistol felt undeniable, and the words on the note lingered longer than they should have.

You glance back down at the gun, your reflection faintly visible in its glossy surface. If it really is just a joke, nothing would happen… right? The question isn’t whether it works.

It’s who you’d be willing to test it on.