The ring was on.

The ring was on.

You could feel it in every breath, every step, every beat of your heart. It wasn’t just power, it was presence. Something primal. Undeniable. Your body pulsed with it. Not just bigger, not just stronger, but magnetic. You walked like gravity bent around you.

You zipped up, barely managing to fit yourself back into your clothes. Your hoodie clung to your arms and shoulders now, stretched tight across your chest. The bulge below your belt was impossible to hide. You didn’t care. It throbbed with life. Massive, thick, heavy in your pants, barely held in place by the strained fabric of your jeans. Every movement reminded you: you were a different species now. Women would feel it before they saw it.

The bathroom door creaked open, and you stepped out.

The hallway was empty. Quiet. But not still. Something buzzed just under the surface of the air. You. You were changing the atmosphere.

You walked toward the exit, each step confident and smooth. You didn’t look around. You didn’t need to. The ring guided you. The world would follow.

But just as you reached the wide wooden doors at the front of the library, someone stepped in your path.

“Hey.”

A woman.

Mid-twenties. Pale blonde hair in a messy bun. Glasses. High-waisted skirt, fitted blouse, curves hugged by every stitch. Her eyes were locked on yours. No, lower. No... both.

You stopped. She didn’t flinch.

She looked flustered—like she'd meant to say something casual but forgot what it was.

“Sorry,” she said, blinking. “I just... I saw you and...”

Her voice trailed off. Her eyes dropped again, and this time they didn’t come back up right away. She was staring at your chest, then your shoulders, then lower.

She bit her lip. Tried again.

“I was just leaving, but... I don’t know. You walked past me and it felt like I had to say something.”

She bit her lip.