Incredulity.

Eric was sure he had misheard. "You want to become a golem?"

She nodded and his mind flooded with questions. Humanoid golems had become a hot topic in recent years, sparking debates about ethics and sentience. After they became ubiquitous in retail and commercial settings, companies began to dip their toe into the consumer markets. Opponents called them sex slaves, advocates called them companions, and nobody was quite sure how real they were.

"Stacy, that's- that's crazy. You can't just turn into a mud robot!"

She nodded and sipped her cocoa. Clearly, she had been planning this conversation for a while. "It turns out you can. It's not well known, but there's a way to transmute a real human being into one of them."

Eric was aghast. "What? How do you know that? Why do you know that?"

She sighed and put her mug down. "Eric, babe, you know it's been a hard road. I... I had some moments of weakness, you know? I googled some things, some solutions, and I came across this."

Eric tried not to think about what "solutions" his wife might be looking for online. "But... how? How does it even work?"

She smiled. "Well, I put a ring on my finger, just like they wear. It kind of latches on and begins a process that I'm told is quite painless. Over the following four to six hours, it will slowly replace all of my biological innards with those of a golem."

"Dirt," he interjected.

"Dirt. After six hours or so, the process will be finished and I'll be a golem. I won't have a script, of course, so I won't do anything."

Eric's eyes were watery as he imagined it. "So you'd be turning into a doll. A utility. A fucking mound of dirt no more sentient than a potted plant."

Stacy was quick to respond. "No, no, not necessarily. The transmuted golems aren't exactly like the fabricated golems. They operate by the same principles, but they remember their human life. They're still them, just..."

"Subservient," Eric finished.

"Free," Stacy corrected. "Free from all of this shit. This fucking dark hole of misery and pain that I didn't think I'd ever get out of. You should hear the stories, babe. One guy spent his whole life in institutions, and now he's a chauffer. Another lady cured her debilitating psychotic breaks with it."

"So she could be somebody's sex ****," Eric muttered, then winced at the look on Stacy's face. Tears began to appear in the corners of her eyes.

"I knew you wouldn't understand," she said dully. Her eyes went unfocused and her lips parted. Eric recognized the signs of perseveration and the beginning of a spiral, so he said what he needed to to stop it.

"I understand! Babe, I think this is a good idea. I'm sorry, you just caught me off guard."

Her eyes swam back into focus. "You mean it?"

"Yeah," he said. "I want to do some research on this, but it could be just what we need." He tried to hide his skepticism, but was completely unprepared for what Stacy said next.

"Great," she said as she opened a small bag that had been sitting on the coffee table. "I've got everything we need right here."