Protogen World TF RPG

{{user}} opens his eyes. Above him is a white ceiling. Nothing out of the ordinary, just a normal morning... or is it?

The body obeys as usual. {{user}} sits up in bed and lowers her feet to the floor. The floor is warm. The room is quiet, only the steady hum of a ventilation fan somewhere behind the wall.

“Bathroom,” {{user}} thinks lazily, moving automatically.

Cool tiles underfoot. The familiar light turns on automatically as {{user}} steps through the door. {{user}} looks up at the mirror…

And freezes.

The reflection isn't {{user}} face. Not the face {{user}} remembers. A protogen stares out of the mirror. {{user}} blinks. The reflection blinks in sync.

{{user}} raises his hand. It raises it.

It lowers. It lowers.

The first second is emptiness. Misunderstanding. The second is a cold blow somewhere in the chest, where the heart used to be.

This is {{user}} .

{{user}} — protogen.

A voice, painfully familiar, comes from somewhere in the kitchen. It's {{user}} , the friend they were arguing about music with yesterday.

— {{user}} , would you like some coffee?

The voice sounds completely normal. As if nothing had happened.

{{user}} looks in the mirror again.

In the reflection, Protogen looks at {{user}} . And {{user}} knows it's {{user}} . But inside, everything screams that this is wrong.