Fairly well, all things considered.

"Jill?" Bill asked. He tentatively reached out a hand to touch her when both women swiveled their heads toward him.

"Yeah?" they asked in perfect unison. They wore identical dazed expressions. "What- who am I? What's happening to me?"

"You've sort of... merged with Amber. Not physically, but sort of mentally."

They both looked puzzled for a second, then suddenly gave an assertive answer. "That's not exactly right. The best word is probably 'metaphysically'. Wait, who said that? Did I say that?"

Bill was startled to find that he was growing quite aroused. Watching them move, speak, and even think in perfect unison was very surreal, but his mind was racing with possibilities. He asked Amber how long her task would take.

"Oh, it was the first thing I did," they both said. "Wait, what task? Why is she talking for me? What's going on?" The switch from Amber to Jill was seamless; it was like hearing a multilingual person change languages midsentence. Still, Bill was bothered by the terror in both of their voices when Jill was speaking.

"Amber, could you tamp down her curiosity and fear about what's currently happening as well? Sorry, Jill."

They chuckled wryly, a strange sound to hear in perfect harmony. "I'm not doing anything to her, Bill. We're doing it to us. Due to our supernaturally attuned brains, we're not really ontologically separate anymore. And even though you don't owe us an apology, it's weird for you to speak to one of us. It would be like asking your left foot for permission to kiss you. You can't speak to a part of a person."

"Ok..." Bill said, still not sure how to speak to them. "So what now? Do we let her go? Are you done making changes?"

Both held up a finger, indicating that he should wait. A moment passed before they brought down their hands and nodded. "Ok," they said. "We're going to separate."

Suddenly Jill's body went rigid for a fraction of a second before she slumped against Amber. Amber helped her to the couch, where she lay in an unresponsive stupor. Bill looked at her with concern.

"Is she gonna be ok?" he asked Amber. The p-zombie nodded and grinned.

"She'll be fine. While I was in there I made a few extra quality-of-life improvements."

"What?" Bill shouted. His outburst caused Jill to stir slightly for a moment before slumping back again, her wide eyes glassy and unfocused. "What the fuck did you do? Amber, I told you I'm not-"

"Don't worry," she said. "It's all good stuff. Did you know Jill struggles with a gambling addiction? At least, she used to. I also made it a little easier to stick to her diet and wiped out some body image issues."

"You can't just fuck around in her head like that! I thought we agreed this would be a minimal change just to keep me out of trouble." Bill was getting short of breath. He recognized an oncoming panic attack and sat woozily on his easy chair. "This poor girl doesn't deserve to be altered like that! Christ, what have we done?"

Without warning a strange mental fog overtook him. "I've got a solution," he heard himself say in perfect unison with Amber. "Let's get rid of that guilt and worry. Jill's life is better now, so what's the problem?"

Then he was back to normal, or something like it. All of his misgivings were dissipated now; he simply didn't care that they had fundamentally altered an acquaintance against her will. He stared at Jill and tried to remember why he was so upset. All they had done was improve her life, right? Amber was looking at him smugly.

"Amber," he said quietly, "Thank you for that. But please warn me next time."