Jade scowled, elbowing through the now un-barricaded back window, the rest of the quintet jumping from the shattering of glass. The rest of the group turned to face her as she sighed and climbed through the window.

“You’re all supposed to be listening to me, yes?” she sighed, her furrowed brow darkening her silvery eyes. She picked pieces of glass out of brown hair, some glass tangled up within the red strip down its length.

“Yes, Cap!” Perked Stel, quickly clamoring through the window behind her superior. Her long, white hair almost shined in the limited light of the night, the blue gradient at its bottom shimmering strangely as it tangled messily. Jade patted the back of her back: She definitely had favorites.

“Yes, Miss Capricos.” Siyu grumbled as she pushed her braid back, the green streak down the middle of her black hair particularly prominent, quickly following her coworker in through the new opening.

The curly-haired Spira trotted ahead to the best of her ability, dragging a profoundly bored and apathetic Bela behind her. Bela gave a deadpan expression as she momentarily looked up from her phone, her white hair frizzed enough to the point that finding the start and end points of the black streak would be difficult.

“Yes, ma’am!” Spira wheezed, the disheveled appearance of her hair not doing the attempted yellow lightning bolt dye pattern any favors. God, she was going to need a smoke after this…

Jade leaned through the window, furrowing her brow at Bela. “You aren’t being paid to be on your fucking phone, Bela.”

Bela grumbled as she placed her phone in her bag, hoisting herself through the window, Bela being too irritated with her to care about helping her with that. Jade turned her flashlight back on, momentarily shining everyone in the face with it in jest much to everyone else’s chagrin.

“Alright. Everyone follow me. Maybe you fuckers will actually listen to me now!”

Stel snickered, Siyu grumbling while shooting her a glare.

“Siyu, stop picking arguments with Stel.”

Siyu immediately flashed a middle finger, sticking her tongue out. “Fuck off, mate.”

“Spira, Bela, catch up.”

Spira harshly elbowed an already-distracted Bela in the torso, accidentally elbowing her in the boob instead of under the ribs, Bela scowling at her while putting her phone away again. Jade shone her flashlight through the dusty, decaying room. Definitely looked like a bar alright. Shame that the sign was too dilapidated to read, would have been nice to be able to look the place up before picking it clean. The door to the booze cellar was right behind the counter, and was even unlocked already. And the fact that Stel almost fell straight through the door’s decaying wood...

Jade counted heads, putting a gloved hand to her chin.

“Who wants to cover our backs up here?”

Siyu rapidly shook her head, pointing towards Spira and Bela, who both leaned back and merely shrugged. Jade grinned, putting her bandanna over her mouth and nose to block out any possible dust and mold within the cellar, Stel doing the same, as did Siyu when she was pulled over by Jade. Jade never seemed to need to directly communicate with Stel: Again, playing favorites.

“Alright. Bela, Candyman, you two stay up here. You’ll be our bait-” she snickered, “-I mean, first line of defense against stuff like what the news is talkin’ about.”

Stel joined in on her superior’s laughter, but Spira just scowled as she grabbed her lighter. She was already grabbing her cigarettes the second she heard her call her “Candyman”: Goddamn did she hate that nickname. It wasn’t her fault that her parents named her after a confectionery! Bela simply remained quiet, eyeing the two who were laughing. Jade, Stel, and Siyu made their way down the cellar stairs, Stel noticeably stifling laughter.

“You’ll see ‘im by his sick-ass pair of goggles! Fear the goggle man!”

Stel cackled, as did the other two joining her in the cellar, their laughter echoing as they disappeared into the darkness of the cellar steps. Soon enough, Spira and Bela were alone. Outside of each other, the only company they had were Spira's cigarette smoke and the noises of cicadas. Spira leaned back, taking a drag before letting the smoke seep from her nose and mouth. She could have sworn that the smoke tasted differently than normal…

“Heheh, goggle man…” Stel snickered.

Siyu shivered, the cold air of the stair stagnant and smelling strange. These stairs were unnecessarily long, and Jade’s flashlight didn’t cut through the dark very deeply: How deep did they put their alcohol?/

Siyu shivered again. “This place gives me the heebie jeebies.”

Stel raised an eyebrow to Siyu, her mouth upturning in a mischievous smirk.

“Whassat? You’re scared of somethin’?”

Siyu pursed her lips in an expression of scorn, punching Stel in the shoulder. Neither of them were amused, especially as their eyes were assaulted with sudden light. Siyu shielded her face as she outright hissed.

“Shit, mate!”

Jade elbowed both of them, pulling down her bandanna and turning off her flashlight. “Hey, look, motion lights.”

“Motion what? In a place this oooolllll….”

The cellar revealed itself to be absolutely massive, the walls and shelves lined with either kegs, rows upon rows of bottles, or both. Jade couldn’t help but peruse the aisles, putting away her flashlight to better free up her hands, grabbing one of the bottles and looking it over. She looked upon the bottle with confusion: There was no text, just a simple orange label with an angular, black-and-white drawing of a tank and its gun, a small man in uniform peeking from the top.

She tilted her head. “Yo, anybody recognize this brand?”

No response. Unless one counts Stel yelling at Siyu about lacking self restraint a response. Siyu liked alcohol, but she was a notorious lightweight, how did she down an entire bottle without just spontaneously combusting?

“Are you sure you should be drinking this? I know that booze needs to age, but it can only age so long-”

Siyu giggled and chuckled, tossing the now-empty bottle to the ground, shattering it before letting out a hearty laugh.

“If this place can somehow have motion lights despite being older than my grandad’s grandad, then this stuff is still edible…”

Siyu paused, an awkward silence hanging for a few moments before she laughed yet again.

“Hey…” she chuckled, grabbing two more bottles, handing them to her compatriots. “...I like this stuff.”

Stel grabbed the bottle, popping off the cap and sniffing it. It smelled surprisingly sweet, like one of those fruity margaritas. She brought the bottle to her lips, and it definitely tasted the part, like something that’d be served with a tiny umbrella, not like bottled piss! She surprised herself as she downed the bottle’s contents, as did Jade soon after, the sweet taste lingering in their mouths. The entire trio was shaky, like the stuff had ridiculous sugar content, feeling almost like an electric sensation was dancing across their skin, and the cellar was soon full of laughter as smoke filled it. Siyu had found cigars and cigarettes and, in her quickly increasing drunkenness, couldn’t help but begin indulging in them as well. Then came Stel, then came Jade…

The sensation of arcing electricity wasn’t merely the workings of drunkenness. Their merriment and dulled senses masked the distorting pigmentation of their skin, from swirling to dry patches as their skin bleached itself a chalky white. No matter how much pigmentation they previously had or how it drained away, the inebriated trio were soon left with pallid skin more unnaturally white than the purest snow. They were jovial despite the strangeness, they couldn’t help themselves, they had found the jackpot! A thought shot between all three of them, almost like telepathy, collecting the alcohol and smokes and marching back to the steps.

Bela sighed, turning to Spira with a look of unease on her face.

“Hey. Does this place feel… weird to you?”

Spira tossed away yet another used cigarette, puffing out a smoke ring as she took out and lit another. “That feeling of being watched?”

Bela nodded, turning her phone off and putting it away. “Like a force, yeah.”

“Yeah, me too-”

Everything was bathed in harsh orange light, both of them shielding their eyes as their companions’ shoes stampeded up the cellar stairs.

“SHIT, FUCK-”

Siyu’s voice was a harsh roar, her voice sounding strangely strained. A piece of wood beamed her upside the head, Bela having tossed it out of reflex.

Spira furrowed a scornful brow. “What the fuck are you three doing? We’re supposed to be under the radar!”

All three of them laughed, their voices sounding strangely awkward, their unnatural complexions even more obvious in the brighter light.

“Who gives a fuck? Let’s let loose!”

Jade perked up, scurrying over to the row of kegs behind the counter.

“Oh damn, how’d I not see these?”

Stel and Siyu hollered enthusiastically, drunkenly scrambling for mugs, which they quickly began filling. Spira pinched the bridge of her nose, shutting her eyes and sighing, quickly taking another drag of her cigarette in some effort to tune them out. Bela was simply wide-eyed. They always accused her of not paying attention, but this… this she can clearly see.

Their outfits, normally color-coded to their favorite colors, were all a deep black, the various irregularities smoothing over. Their pants were black, their shirts were black, the gloves and new boots that they had were both black and significantly bulkier, almost exaggerated-looking. She would normally have asked them why they put those outfits on, but she watched them morph before her very eyes. Not just their clothes, but them, too… She shook her head. No, no, this isn’t right. She’s just seeing things, she hasn’t really had proper sleep in a while, that’s it…

Siyu trotted over to Spira, placing down a large, frothy mug and a box of cigarettes with the same textless branding as the bottles, placing her elbow on the table before her. Spira’s expression was only that of immense scorn, heavily contrasting Siyu’s massive, smug grin. It almost didn’t seem to match her face shape, though its morphing shape rectified this, her teeth moving to better hold the cigarette in her mouth as her jaw and head shape became much thicker and more square. She turned her head to the sides to crack her neck, rolling her popping shoulders as they became broader, her arms and hands seeming to thicken right in front of Spira’s unbelieving gaze, her morphing clothing seeming to grow to accommodate.

Spira blinked in disbelief. One blink, her chest was flat. Another blink, a white vest was now over her torso. She was less shapely, even… No, this isn’t real. Just the smoke distorting her vision.

“Hey, Candyman.” Siyu coughed, turning into a dry hacking, almost like the universe punishing her for saying the detested nickname. Her voice sounded… alien. Significantly deeper, unrecognizable, though she returned to grinning. She didn’t mind it.

“I fuckin’ shit you not, this stuff is the tits!”

Spira’s head pulled into her neck by reflexive disgust. One, it was that maligned nickname. Two, that voice… What the hell?

“Go fuck yourself.”

Siyu scoffed and rolled her darkening eyes, the green of her eyes being crowded and overtaken by black. She pushed the mug and cigarette pack closer to her before standing back up, chuckling as she turned away to rejoin Stel and Jade’s tomfoolery.

“Bitch.”

Her already dark hair curled in on itself, the green stripe dissipating away into the rest of its blackness as her hair shortened into a buzz cut. Spira flashed her the middle finger, looking between the trio and what Siyu had handed her. Those three were unrecognizable, though all three of them looked similar. They had stocky builds, lacking any typical feminine figure or face shape, and she watched as Stel and Jade’s hair blackened and shortened not unlike Siyu’s, Stel’s becoming messier and Jade’s being noticeably longer and spikier. She looked to the mug and cigarette pack. She was never a drinker, but those cigarettes…

tapped Bela’s shoulder as she put away her existing pack of cigarettes, taking one last long drag of her cigarette and breathing it out before tossing it away. She slid the frothy mug over to Bela, who didn’t respond to her input, before slowly opening the pack of cigarettes. They already smelled different, though it wasn’t unpleasant, the cigarette burning a strangely-intense shade of yellow as she lit it. The taste… was different. Yet she was somehow calmed even with the absolute fuckery and shenanigans that the drunken trio were acting out.

Bela snapped out of her focus for a moment, looking at the bubbling alcohol before her. She needed to calm her nerves… She took a sip. It did not taste like something you’d find in a keg. She quickly downed the mug’s contents, wiping her mouth with her sleeve, a warm feeling brewing in her belly. It was a warm, fuzzy feeling, a noticeable dulling of her senses, finding herself apathetic to her surroundings even as Siyu speeded to throw up out the broken back window, yelling about how she had apparently gained a “second head,” whatever that is…

Fire lapped at Spira’s lips, her increasing haze causing her to mislight her cigarette, though she eventually managed. Her dry lips burned, a whiteness bleaching itself across them, as did growing specks of white that grew into piebalding across her entire body. Bit by bit, the patches of white webbed together, soon leaving no trace of her skin having any color at all. She rubbed her jaw with her other hand, grumbling, feeling a strange numbness as her jaw popped into being noticeably more square, as did she feel her chest burn as her breasts melted away into flatness. It was probably just the smoking, it’s given her chest pain before…

Bela leaned over the countertop, limbs splayed over it, mind in an intoxicated haze. She couldn’t mask the strange pain pulsing through her skin, though, the vision of her right eye giving way to blackness, feeling large portions of her body burn as if set aflame. She attempted to push herself up, clumsily standing upright, her body shaking as the skin across it bleached itself white, the discoloration feeling much like what would happen if she had actually poured bleach on herself. Her balance was immensely difficult, feeling her skeleton seemingly strain itself, joints of her torso and limbs popping as they all shifted length and thickness: Longer and thicker arms, wider hands with more square fingers, broader shoulders and less wide hips, longer legs. She couldn’t help but whimper in pain.

Spira’s hands shook, her broadening shoulders and growing arms and hands causing her too much difficulty to ignore. She shut her lighter off, grumbling, noticing pained whimpering, turning to see Bela and her awkward, tilted stance. She went wide-eyed, watching her companion’s skin begin to seemingly mangle itself, morphing into large amounts of monochromatic scarring. She shot out of her seat to keep her friend standing upright, Bela’s breasts flattening into her chest as they both searched for another room, eventually finding the broken-down bathroom and shutting the door. Some means of tuning out the trio’s nonsense.

“Calm down, mate.”

Spira paused, coughing, her throat burning and feeling dry. Her hips, like her friend’s, compressed, her legs lengthening, though her clothes warped to remain fitting on her. Her primarily yellow outfit blackened, shoes morphing into boots, her gloves and boots becoming thick and bulky. Her clothes were overall bulkier, having morphed into black armor, white straps forming an X forming across the front of her torso. Bela rubbed her thickening jaw with a pained whimper.

“W-W-Whatthefuck? Am I dying?” she whimpered, her voice warping into sounding deeper and gargling as she felt bile rise in her thickening throat. She understood Siyu’s “second head” remark now, at least...

Spira rubbed her throat, cupping her hands over her mouth as her insides horribly twisted, resisting the urge to throw up. It was definitely a good thing that her clothes had shifted as well, because feeling it against too-tight clothes probably would have been even more painful.

“We’re not dying, please calm down.” she whispered, taking notice of her deeper voice.

Spira yelped as Bela suddenly grabbed her shoulders and shook her violently in panic. White bandages formed across Bela’s body, forming all the way down her limbs and covering up most of the upper side of her face save for her left eye, the color draining from it. Over the bandages her clothes warped into the same bulky black-and-white armor that had replaced Siyu’s ware, with a white vest and bulky black gloves and boots.

“I CAN’T SEE OUT OF MY RIGHT FUCKING EYE!”

Spira was shaken in both a literal and figurative sense, momentarily in shock, watching Bela’s hair blacken and shift into a messy style pointing straight upward. She winced, her own hair shifting, curls straightening as her hair greatly shortened, the yellow streak being replaced with blackness. Her vision blurred, the color draining from the irises of her eyes, finding herself holding her head in pain and feeling something clamp the sides of her head as a black helmet formed around her head, a spike sprouting from the top of the helmet and a noticeable clamp on her chin. A pair of white glasses formed on the front of the helmet which cleared her vision. It didn’t stop his massive headache, though… His? Why was he thinking- Y’know what, fuck it, he feels like a guy now, it seems.

The bathroom door slammed open, Jade, Stel, and Siyu all attempting to cram their way in, and all three of them unrecognizable in both body and voice.

“Lemme in, Cap!” “Hey, let me in you asshat! Johnny, are you even fucking-”

“Steve, Sniper, leave this to the professionals!” Jade, or in this case John, shouted behind him, trying to shove the other two out of the way.

Though they all wore the same armor, they still continued to morph in front of them. On John’s shoulders formed white pairs of double chevrons pointing upward, though the other two lacked shoulder symbols, and across their heads formed various helmets. They were simple black helmets, lacking any accessories on the top. The main difference between them seemed to be their visors, with John having a wide single visor, the previously-Stel Steve having two circular goggles, and previously-Siyu Sniper having a bulky visor with luminous green, telescoping lenses. Bela held his head, a black helmet identical to John’s forming on his head. His…? He held his head, looking over to Spira in worry, his thoughts burning.

“Bill! Skittles! Now’s not the time for crying like a bunch of bitch-babies, we’re supposed to be partying hard!”

A pain shot through both Spira and Bela’s heads, both of their faces turning to scowls. Spira and Bela… They felt disconnected from those names, indeed, but… No.

“Why aren’t you talking to me?”

Skittles clenched his fists, shooting a glare at John, his voice dripping with venom.

“My mom told me to never talk to assholes. Sorry about that.”

Bill felt at the side of his hip, grabbing his combat knife and tossing it through the doorway, all three of them immediately hitting the floor in panic.

“What the fuck, man? You almost fucking knifed us!” Sniper slurred as he peeked his visor back through the door, everyone clearing the way as Bill shoved his way through the doorway.

“I’m fucking done! Yoooouuuuu have your little clusterfuck, I’m out! Fuck you three in particular!”

There’s momentarily an awkward silence, broken only by Bill slamming his way through the barricades that remained on the front doors. He didn’t want to risk losing his mind further by staying in there any longer.

Bill sat on the steps, the remains of the boards that once kept the doors shut streaming orange light, the splinters on the ground seemingly doing nothing to his thick armor. He wiggled his helmet, its chin strap opening with a click as he pulled it off, turning its front to face him, looking at his reflection in the visor: Chalky white skin, unkempt black hair sticking straight up, bandages over the top part of his face outside of his left eye which seemingly glimmered in the dark. Intense heat hung in the air even in the dark of night, not even the ever-obnoxious sounds of cicadas masking the sounds of the ruckus within the bar’s crumbling foundation. The air was hot and wet, the almost suffocating mugginess clinging to what little exposed skin he had. It reminded him of… Wait, wait, get a hold of yourself.

He heard the sound of the doors being opened, splinters and debris being kicked away by heavy boots, the sounds of Captain, Steve, and Sniper’s hooliganary temporarily becoming louder before becoming muffled again with the doors’ closing.

“...Sorry about the whole ‘killing you’ thing.”

Bill raised an eyebrow, turning to face a noticeably-pained Skittles as he stumbled through the bar doors. Skittles had taken his helmet off and was holding it limply in one hand along with his white glasses, his movements clumsy as he sat down next to him. Bela placed his gloved hand on Skittles’s shoulder as he held his head and wincied.

“What are you going on about?”

“Don’t you remember?” Skittles whispered as he put a hand on his lap, his head pain alleviating. “You’ve got fucked up memories, too, ‘cause I don’t hear you using your original name.”

Bill pursed his lip, brow furrowing as he felt images and words flash within his mind: Waving to his superiors in sea of yellow sand, yelling about how he was going to be a dad, before-

“I’m the guy that shot you.”

Bill shook his head, lunging and grabbing Skittles by the shoulders and starting to vigorously shake him.

“Get a hold of yourself! That isn’t us!”

Skittles yelped, trying to break free from his grip.

“We aren’t in a perpetual warzone! I sure as shit don’t feel dead! Tell me-” Bill whisper-shouted as he began to punctuate his words with the stomping of his boots. “-Do I look DEAD! TO! YOU?”

Skittles managed to break free of Bill’s deathgrip, shoving him back, knocking his helmet to the ground.

“You get a hold of yourself you fucking fruitcake! I know you aren’t dead!”

Bill sighed, picking up his helmet and dusting it off before putting it back on.

“Good! We haven’t lost our minds like those three chucklefucks back in there!” he laughed, pointing back through the doors, the commotion of Sniper, Captain, and Steve still quite audible from outside.

Skittles slowly put on his helmet, snickering and noticeably stifling greater laughter, Bill tilting his head and raising an eyebrow again.

“What are you laughing at?”

Skittles held up a finger in a “hold it” gesture as he put his helmet on and fastened it, quickly cleaning and putting on his glasses afterwards.

“Just, just, on the subject of your death-” he chuckled, Bill’s lower lip stiff in judgement, “I heard you yellin’ about your future kid when I was looking at you down the scope, right? So when I shot you, I was like-” Skittles grinned, puffing his chest out and putting on a fake gruff voice, “-’Not anymore, bitch’!”

Bill scowled and snapped at Skittles with a near-hit gesture, Skittles whimpering and turning away while trying to shield himself with his arms all out of reflex. Bill stood up, patting Skittles on his shoulder before grabbing his upper arm to lift him up, looking around warily to check for any unfamiliar eyes.

“We should get going. Stay close to me, Private.”

Skittles shook himself off, nodding to him as he began to follow Bill’s steps away from the dilapidated building. He couldn’t help but look back at it, hearing the chaos within but being unable to discern what exactly was happening, dipping from his focus as he felt Bill tap his shoulder.

“We don’t talk to assholes, Private.”

Skittles snickered, as did Bill afterwards, the laughter already apparent in his voice while he was saying it. Their pace quickened as they got farther from the old bar. They probably shouldn’t still be there by sunrise…