Like Clay in a Potter’s Hands

Sewers - Sheridan, Wyoming

The transformation was a complex, intricate process that unfolded very slowly; like someone trying to pick things from way too many possibilities. Finlay could feel his body responding to Lydia's influence, reshaping itself in accordance with his mental focus and her guidance. Each alteration was a symphony of shifts, from the lengthening of limbs to the broadening of shoulders and the deepening of his voice. His hormones changed back alongside every cell in his body, changing its double X chromosomes to XY.

When the transformation was finally complete, Finlay could sense the return of his known form. The world around him seemed familiar once more, and he could feel the fullness of his original body—the 6-foot frame, the masculine features, and the sense of himself that he had known for years.

However, the change had not been without its consequences. The sheer complexity and intensity of the transformation left Finlay feeling utterly exhausted. It was as if his entire being had undergone a profound metamorphosis, and the mental and physical exertion had drained him of his energy.

Breathing heavily, it was necessary to lean on Lydia for support, grateful for her guidance in restoring him to his true self. The fatigue was palpable, and he struggled to keep his eyes open, feeling the weight of the transformation in every fiber of his being.

“Thank you.” He panted in a flushed voice. “Huh …. How did you do that?” He realized that there was more to her than just her good looks, action hero capabilities, and fugitive of the system status. She was a mutant no doubt too; the first he had ever met.