This choice: Try it. It should be safe, right ? • Go Back...Chapter #7Becoming March 7th by: Eln   Taking a deep breath, Stelle nodded. March was right, better test with her than someone with whom it could go awful. She closed her eyes and focused. The strange sensation she’d been carrying—the pull of the threads—seemed to grow stronger. She reached for it, letting her instincts guide her. Suddenly, everything shifted.
Stelle blinked, her consciousness flowing into the vibrant thread of energy connecting her to March 7th. A rush of sensations overwhelmed her—a lightness, a tingling awareness of an unfamiliar form, and a pervasive chill that felt strangely comforting. Her vision blurred, and when it cleared, she found herself standing in another place, and strange feelings.
Her eyes—March’s eyes—were drawn to the window just in front of her, the black of space catching her reflection. She took a step closer, captivated by the vivid aquamarine gaze staring back. March’s eyes sparkled with warmth and mischief, framed by soft, pink waves of hair that curled just above her shoulders. Clothes, accessories ... yep, she seems to have everything her friend wear just a minute before.
Stelle tilted her head, watching the reflection mirror her movements. Her hand—smaller and more delicate than she was used to—rose instinctively to touch her face. She traced March’s soft, unblemished skin, feeling the warmth of her fingertips against her cheek. The feeling was rather disturbing, as March's skin is very different.
Her gaze drifted down to the outfit March always wore. The combination of soft pastel blues and vibrant whites gave her an air of brightness,the ribbon tied neatly around her waist, the skirt flowing gracefully with her movements, the blue and black boots... It was not the same thing to wear all pf that rather than seeing it on March. The overall look was unmistakably her—March 7th, the cheerful memory-filled girl of the Astral Express.
Stelle flexed her fingers, testing the limits of March’s form. Her movements were lighter, almost bouncy, as though her very essence radiated energy. “This is… incredible,” Stelle murmured, her voice high-pitched and cheerful—March’s voice. Hearing it come from her own mouth felt surreal.
Stelle turned to sit again on the sofa, and saw herself, or rather, her own body, seemingly sleeping. A thought came in her mind: what happened to March?  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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