Taking it in.

You woke again, the world swimming into focus through a different ceiling, this one a dark, polished obsidian that reflected my own startled face back at me. You was in a smaller room, the walls curved and organic-looking, pulsing with a faint bioluminescent grid. And he was there, right beside you, his massive frame stretched out beside me, his eyes closed, his breathing slow and even. The remote was on a shelf above his head, just out of your reach.

A cold dread pooled in your stomach as you watched him, this man who called you "Amber," who had a device that could turn your panic into placid obedience. Your hand drifted your own throat, feeling the unfamiliar smoothness of the skin, the lack of an Adam's apple. This was real. This was your life now. And he was watching over you, a guardian or a jailer, you couldn't yet tell.

Your mind, still sluggish from the enforced sleep, drifted to fragments of memory, your parents' disappointed faces, the weight of their expectations pressing down on you like a physical force, your brother Marcus's voice on the phone, demanding and sharp. Were they out there somewhere, thinking you were dead? Would they even mourn you, or would they simply sigh with relief that the burden of you was finally gone?

The thought was cold, hollow. You wondered if this was an afterlife, some kind of punishment or test. But the station hummed with sterile life, the bioluminescent grid pulsed with mechanical regularity, and the warm body beside you breathed with undeniable reality. This was no heaven or hell, this was something far more terrifying: a new existence, with strings attached and a man who held the remote.

You lay there, barely breathing, your mind churning with questions you didn't dare voice aloud. How did you even get here? The last thing you remembered was the crash, the blinding pain, then... nothing. But this room, this body, this man who called you "Amber" and held a remote that could rewrite your emotions, none of it made sense. And where was the real Amber?

The thought struck you like a physical blow. Whoever she was, whatever she had been to him, you were wearing her skin now, a stranger in a stranger's life, and he had no clue. Had she been discarded, her consciousness erased to make room for yours? The idea made your stomach turn, but you couldn't shake the feeling that you were a ghost inhabiting a body that belonged to someone else, a body he clearly loved, and you had no idea what he would do if he discovered the truth.

You lay there, barely breathing, your mind churning, this room, this body, this man who called you "Amber" and the remote that could rewrite your emotions, none of it made sense. The man stirred beside you, his eyes fluttering open. He turned his head, a warm smile spreading across his face as he saw you awake.

"Good morning, my love," he murmured, his voice thick with sleep. He propped himself up on one elbow, his gaze traveling down your body with an unsettling possessiveness. "I have wonderful news," he continued, his tone bright and eager. "While you were recovering, I had the doctors make a few... enhancements. They increased your breast size, and made you much more fertile." He paused, his eyes meeting yours, a triumphant glint in them. "We can finally start the family we've always talked about."

Your thoughts stopped. His words echoed. You turned and looked at him. "I... don't know..." you hesitated, this was all too much, especially as you'd only been Amber a matter of hours.

"Not just yet, don't worry," he smiled, caressing your cheek, "But soon." His eyes turned down to my chest as he slowly caressed one of Ambers, my, breasts. "Be, shame not to put the enhancements to use.

You felt a pang of disgust, but a dreaded feeling too, realising that, this may not be so easy to avoid.