The Price of a Second Chance (Patreon)

— "Well, how does it feel, Selena?" — a woman in a golden dress asked mockingly, crossing her arms over her chest and giving me an evaluating look.

I flinched at the unfamiliar name and instinctively clenched my hands, feeling the unusual weight of a bracelet on my slender, feminine wrist. Yeah, the sensations were... to put it mildly, strange. My throat felt dry, and every movement felt as if it were happening through a layer of soft plastic. I tried to take a step but froze in place, staring at the people surrounding me. It was like a bad dream: flashing screens, strange faces, and me — in a female body that I most definitely didn’t have yesterday.

— "W-what’s going on?" — my voice, now melodic and high, trembled with confusion. I glanced around: wide stained glass windows, the cold shimmer of glass walls, paintings in a strange, grotesque style. Two women nearby exchanged looks, each seemingly waiting for something from me. "I woke up in this body, and then they brought me here... without explaining anything."

— "Aleksei Mikhailovich Rogov — that’s what you were called before, right?" — another woman asked softly, wearing a strict white dress. — "A professor of neurosurgery and one of the leading researchers in cryonics. Do you remember yourself?"

Aleksei Mikhailovich… Yes. Of course, I remembered. I remembered that cold laboratory and the despair when I realized that a terminal illness had left me with only a couple of months to live. I remembered agreeing to an experiment that could freeze me until a future time when medicine would advance enough to save me. But no one warned me that I would wake up in the future in a woman’s body!

— "Who are you... What did you do to me?" — I managed to squeeze out, feeling the tight dress restricting my breathing.

The woman in gold snorted derisively:

— "What did we do? We gave you a chance to survive, Aleksei… or rather, Selena. You should be thanking us for that," — her voice was icy calm, but there was a malicious joy flickering in her eyes. — "Because in your world, you were already dead. The Council decided that you should be the first we bring back. And here you are, in a new body, a new life..."

I stood there in shock, feeling everything inside me tighten with horror and incomprehension. My palms were sweating, and the thin fabric of the dress stuck to my skin. What Council? Why did they bring me back? And most importantly — why like this? I involuntarily touched my neck, wrapping my fingers around the delicate throat… all of this felt so unreal.

— "But why transplant me into this body? Why not restore my own?" — I asked hollowly, trying not to let the emotions breaking through show.

The woman in the white dress stepped forward, her gaze turning serious and cold.

— "Aleksei, your original body was beyond hope. There was simply... nothing left. And we had the opportunity to test a new synchronization technique, to combine your knowledge and experience with a new, young body. We didn’t choose Selena randomly — her skills and attributes were… ideal for our purposes."

— "Purposes?" — I repeated, not believing my ears. — "What purposes?!"

At that moment, the woman in gold unexpectedly stepped right up to me, her face stopping dangerously close, almost touching mine. She looked directly into my eyes, and I couldn’t look away.

— "Oh, just a trifle — you’ll be our demonstration of the technology’s possibilities for influential investors," — she said sweetly, and I felt a chill run down my spine. — "You are proof of the technology’s success. If you can adapt, we’ll get support for further experiments… and maybe, we’ll choose an even more suitable body for you. But for now, you’ll stay in this one," — her gaze slid over my form, and I instinctively crossed my arms over my chest.

— "Are you joking?" — I shuddered at my own voice — too soft, too helpless. — "I’m not… this isn’t me!" — I shouted desperately, but the women just exchanged glances, as if talking to a stubborn child.

— "Wrong, darling. This is you now," — smirked the one in white. — "All the documents, records, and even your digital identifier have been rewritten. Selena… a twenty-two-year-old model, who survived an accident and was officially declared dead. Her life is yours now, Aleksei… or would you rather be no one?"

— "You... you have no right!" — anger overwhelmed me, but my voice sounded pitiful, high-pitched, as if it couldn’t fully express the emotions raging inside. I took a step back, feeling my heels stumble unsteadily on the smooth floor. This was absurd: I — Aleksei Rogov, once a professor, standing here in a ridiculous body, and these two women looking at me as if I were a lab rat.

The woman in the gold dress only smiled, raising her eyebrows. Her smile widened further when I faltered, feeling the tight dress pulling at my shoulders and chest, restricting my movements.

— "Right?" — she slowly ran her fingers along my cheek, her touch chilling my skin, and I shuddered, feeling tiny goosebumps ripple across my body. — "What right, Selena? You seem to misunderstand your situation."

— "You should be grateful," — the woman in white continued, her voice calm, like a lecturer explaining the truth to a clueless student. — "Now you have a second chance. You’re alive. And how many people can only dream of that? We chose you because you were the best, the most promising…"

On the other hand, they were right, I thought, but that didn’t make this any less horrifying.

— "So what am I supposed to… do now?! I don’t want to live in this body, let alone as a woman!"

— "Oh, you think the worst part is having breasts, don’t you? Haha, men from the 20th century are such sexists!" — she laughed, but there was something eerie in her laughter. She suddenly stopped and added — "You’re not just a woman, you’re our property!"

I stood there, stunned, trying to process what I’d just heard. Property. Everything inside me went cold.

— "In what sense?" — I whispered, swallowing hard. "You have no right! I refuse this!"

The woman in the golden dress leaned closer, and I felt her breath on my skin. Her eyes held a dangerous mixture of amusement and malice.

— "You think you can just refuse? Well, let’s clarify your rights," — she spun a small tablet on her finger and made a few quick taps. The screen flickered, and lines of text flashed before my eyes. My new "data": Selena Karen Morton, 22 years old, social status — "experimental subject." The woman waved the tablet carelessly, and I felt a tightening dread inside. — "This contract ties your identity to our corporation. You're not even officially a human yet. You’re intellectual property, down to the smallest details. Everything you have: your body, voice, even your thoughts — belongs to us."

— "And… what if I refuse?" — I exhaled, trying to keep my voice from trembling, though everything inside was screaming. — "If I refuse to play by your rules?"

The woman in white — the one who called me "Aleksei" — shrugged, her face showing slight, almost indifferent surprise, as if my question was foolish.

— "We can deactivate you. Easily and simply. One command — and you’ll disappear, like a failed experiment."

I froze, realizing the horror of her words.

— "So, darling, it’s better for you to comply," — the woman in gold continued, her gaze growing cold and stern. — "You’ve been given a new life. Albeit in a… slightly different format. Now your task is to meet expectations. If you can prove yourself, show that you can be useful…" — her fingers slowly ran over my shoulders, as if evaluating merchandise. — "Who knows? Maybe they’ll even let you taste real freedom."

I jerked back, my breath catching as if she had struck me.

— "So what do you want?" — I asked, forcing the words out with difficulty, feeling cold sweat trickle down my back. — "Am I supposed to… be a mannequin on display?"

The woman in white looked at me with a slight smirk.

— "Not just a mannequin. You are our proof that it’s possible to control consciousness, to transform it. The transition from a man to a woman is just the first stage. Next, we want to adapt you to your new social role, to observe how the mind adapts to the physical form, to a complete change in gender perception. You’ll need to live, communicate, interact with others, proving that you can be… well, the real Selena."

— "So I’m supposed to… pretend that… I’m a woman?" — I could barely hold back from shouting. — "Is this your experiment? You just want to…"

— "No, Selena," — the woman in gold interrupted, her voice firmer now. — "You’re not pretending. You’re learning. We’ll be controlling your every step, every decision, until you stop feeling… resistance. You must fully merge with this body. Otherwise…"

She looked me up and down, and something predatory gleamed in her eyes.

— "Otherwise, why should we keep you if the experiment fails?"

— "I… I…" — I started, but froze, feeling my voice falter treacherously.

— "Well then," — the woman in white glanced at me again, her expression softening slightly, but it didn’t make me feel any better. — "All of this will be difficult, Selena. But if you can manage… if we’re convinced that your consciousness has fully integrated into this new life, perhaps your reward will be much more generous. You may be able to live, maybe even get a new identity, a new future. But until then…"

She took a step back, towards the door, and I suddenly felt the space around me begin to close in. As if they were leaving me alone here, with only my thoughts for company.

— "…we’ll be watching. Your new trainers are already waiting for you. Training starts tomorrow."

— "Training?" — I repeated weakly, and the woman in gold tilted her head.

— "Yes. You didn’t think you’d just sit around staring at yourself in the mirror, did you?" — her smile flashed with malice. — "It’s time to learn, darling. Your new life begins… right now."

They turned and, without looking back, left the room, leaving me alone — alone in a body that felt alien, terrifying, one I had to "accept"… if I didn’t want to die again.

The sound of their heels echoed through the empty hall as I stood there, staring into the void.