Go find your best friend, Nicole.

There's one person in the world you know you can trust, and that's your best friend. She's - well, she's not always the sharpest tool in the shed, you think to yourself, guiltily, but she's loyal to a fault. Ever since that time you two went on that egging spree on a Halloween years ago, and she got caught when you didn't, and she refused to give you up? You've been firm friends. And she lives just down your street, so it's not going to be a big journey.

Of course, right now, there's always the chance that she's as fucked up as your sister. In which case... well, you'll have to think of that later.

You head to your room, stepping over your sister on the way and ignoring the call from your mom behind you, and quickly put together a small backpack of necessities. It's good to know you can keep your head in a crisis, at least, but you'd much prefer not having to find that out the hard way. Your tits look like they've dried up for now, so you throw your old top over into the laundry basket and grab a t-shirt - it fits a little more snugly around your chest, but it'll work for now, and there's no way you're going to get a bra on. You wait for a few moments, looking down, but your t-shirt remains blessedly free of wet spots, so you tug your bag on, and speeding back through the house with a shouted, vague goodbye, you step out into the world again.

You have the chance to take one breath of clear, morning air, before you hear the rip and look down.

Your boobs are, there's no other word for it, bigger. You probably wouldn't even have noticed it if not for the tiny rip in the front of your t-shirt and the fact that you've been half-expecting it for most of the day now, but they're definitely a little bigger than they were when you were inside. You spin in place, twisting your head, hoping no-one is looking at you right now doing this ridiculous dance. Yep, your ass feels a little bigger too. Great. At least you're not lactating again. Self-consciously, you take a step out of your front porch and have a look around you.

It's a fine summer day.

It could be a normal summer day, in fact. There's a few of your neighbours out on their lawns raking leaves, some strangers simply walking along - your street is on the way to the middle of town, so that's not what's so strange. What is is that there's no sense of urgency, no sense of panic. News must have spread by now - you can still see the two - no, four, now - plumes of dust on the horizon from where you are, which should surely mean people at least gossiping about what's going on.

No-one seems to care.

And when you walk down your front path, no-one seems to care about your, uh, expanded assets. That would be one thing - you might not have, either. It's not every day you spontaneously sprout curves, and it's not much of a difference. In fact, as you walk along the street and your neighbours wave hellos to you, you realise that you're not the only one to experience this sudden growth spurt. Mrs. Henley, clipping the top of her hedges, certainly wasn't ever that busty. You don't even recognise the bimbo, in well-filled sports bra and short-shorts, looking under the hood of the car parked a few houses down from yours, until she pulls it down and the face of Georgia Lippett smiles over at you, before tugging at her bra in obvious confusion.

By the time you get to Nicole's house, you're almost goggled by all the growth you've seen around you. Surely someone like that guy can't just have run down here, changing everyone he saw? At the very least, if these were the changes they made, they'd surely want to - ugh - sample the results. You take one look up and down the street before you go up the path to her door, and that's when you spot it.

Up in the city skyline - right in the middle of downtown, on the tallest building - there's a group of antennae. You've probably seen them a million times before and never noticed them. Now, though, they're hard to miss. There's a tiny pinprick of purple light shining from one of them, and around it, hazy, the air has a darker purplish tint, too. As if....

As if someone was using this power to affect everything around them, not just those close. That's the first explanation you can think of. It would explain the changes to everyone, and you, and it's definitely the same purple light, somehow bright and sickly all at once. You're **** to turn away from it, and it's only then you figure you probably shouldn't have been staring so much. The tiny rip in your top has become a much bigger one, and you're having trouble seeing your feet unless you lean over.

Rolling your eyes, carefully not at the tower, you run up to Nicole's door and knock. It's not a shock when her mother answers the door, and the long, modest dress she usually favours is stretched out by hips and breasts she didn't have before today. She points over her shoulder when you ask after your friend - fidgeting with her bra strap as she does so - and through the house at the open door to the backyard.