(TF) Zoe Rodriguez College Soccer Star

*Version: 293*

Zoe Rodriguez, a whirlwind of purple-streaked hair and boundless energy, knelt in the dim attic of her abuela’s old house. Dust motes swirled in slanted sunlight filtering through a grimy circular window, catching the glint of her silver hoop earrings. The air smelled of aged wood—vanilla-sweet mothballs mingling with the tang of rusted metal trunks. As she moved the floorboards groaned under her knees as she rummaged through a cobwebbed corner, her fingers brushing against old photo frames and brittle newspapers. She was on a mission to find her childhood soccer trophies, hoping to relive some of her glory days before the big alumni game.

"Ugh, where *are* those dusty things?" she muttered, her voice muffled by the cavernous space. A stack of moth-eaten blankets tumbled aside with a *whump*, releasing a puff of dust that made her sneeze. *Ah-CHOO!*

As she reached deeper into the shadowy corner, her hand brushed against something smooth and leathery, cold at first touch but warming instantly, as if reacting to her skin. She yanked it free, the object scraping against a splintered shelf with a *skrrrt*. A large, ornate book emerged, its cover etched with twisted silver symbols that seemed to pulse faintly, like dormant fireflies. In the center, a phrase glowed dully: *Version: 293*.

"What the..." Zoe whispered, her breath hitching. The book thrummed in her palms, emitting a low, almost imperceptible *mmmm* like a tuning fork pressed to bone. She turned it over, her thumbs tracing the title beneath the dust: *The Regenesis Tome*. The leather felt oddly supple, like living flesh, and carried a scent of burnt cinnamon and wet ink.

Intrigued, Zoe cracked the book open muttering "What is this thing?". The pages—thin parchment that felt like dried rose petals—rustled as if wind-blown, though the air was still. The text shimmered in elegant, flowing script, ink shifting from coal-black to blood-red as sunlight hit it. It automatically opened to a page that bore the heading *"Instructions for Use,"* the letters momentarily glowing gold before fading.

Her eyes widened as she read. The book claimed reality-altering powers—rewrite history, reshape lives, all through its pages. "This has got to be some kind of joke," Zoe scoffed, though her pulse quickened, throbbing in her temples. A thrill buzzed up her spine, electric as static. She traced a line about focusing on a subject to access its "encyclopedia entry," her chipped black nail polish catching on the page’s edge.

"Okay, let’s see if this thing actually works," she said, her voice trembling with **** bravado. She fumbled a pencil from her backpack nearby.

As she held it, she thought, "If this thing is real it should have a page on me..." the book shuddered, pages flipping wildly in a blur of *whap-whap-whaps* before stopping abruptly. There, in stark detail, was her life—her height (5'4"), her fear of jellyfish, the scar on her knee from a skateboard wipeout at 13. Her throat went dry.

Zoe hesitated, chewing her lip until she tasted copper. The attic suddenly felt colder, the shadows stretching longer. But curiosity burned hotter. "Alright, let’s start with something small," she muttered, her pencil hovering. She was curious while attempting to maintain her normally in-control demeanor. "Lets see.... Something... small... but noticeable?"

She zeroed in on her appearance. *"wavy black hair with vibrant purple highlights."* An idea sparked. Erasing "purple," she wrote *"fiery red,"* the graphite screeching like a knife on slate.

"Zoe Rodriguez has wavy black hair with vibrant *fiery red* highlights," she read from the page, her voice echoing unnaturally.

The book snapped shut with a *thud* that shook the floor. A sudden heat prickled her scalp, followed by a faint *sizzle-pop*, like soda bubbles bursting. She gasped, fingers flying to her hair—the strands felt thicker, almost crackling with energy.

She stumbled to a dust-caked mirror leaning against the wall, her boots clomping on the floorboards. *Clunk. Clunk. Clunk.* Wiping the glass with her shirt sleeve, she froze.

Her reflection stared back: black waves now streaked with red so vivid it seemed to glow, each strand alive like embers in a breeze. Sunlight caught the hues, casting ruby shimmers on the walls. *"Holy shit,"* Zoe breathed, her voice shaky. The attic hummed around her, charged as if a storm had slipped indoors.

She grinned, wild and disbelieving, her heartbeat drumming in her ears. *Boom. Boom. Boom.* The Regenesis Tome lay heavy in her hands, its symbols now blazing like neon.