ZAP!
You fire a single bolt just as the boy is readying another shot. To his credit, he reflexively tries to dodge, but he has the wrong angle. Shocked at being hit, he tumbles to the ground with a yell. “No!”
A few of your sisters sense victory and lower their weapons while others are slower on the uptake, letting off a few more useless shots even as the boy’s body begins to reshape.
Descending from your hideout, you approach your future teammate now hugging his knees in dismay. Mumbling denials, he shakes his head as his changes progress. That fit masculine body you admired a minute ago has dwindled into a slight frame with a gracefully long waist and girlish hips. By now, he has to brush back a curtain of ebony tresses before gasping at his dainty white hands that poked from his now baggy sleeves.
Those hands then dart to his gurgling stomach, then his chest, before settling between his slender thighs. His pained expression says it all. Simultaneously, a chorus of triumphant squeals from your sisters accompanies the final score. Males-0 Females-10. Remaining time: 0:12. Girl’s team wins!
“Just a few seconds,” the new girl moaned in a soft soprano. “Just a few seconds more, and I would’ve made it!”
Sympathetically, you kneel down and lift her chin, getting a good view of a cute hear-shaped face with the most lovely set of almond eyes you had ever seen. Putting a finger over those trembling rosebud lips, you soothe your distressed sister. “Ssh, it will all be better soon.”
Her eyes glaze over, and you draw her unresisting form into a welcoming hug. Before the embrace even finishes, her limp arms come to life again, hugging you back as she giggles softly into your ear. “You’re right. It is better. I don’t even know why I was so upset.”
Just then, your other sisters crowd around you, patting your back in congratulations at taking the winning shot. Standing up, you help the Asian girl to her feet at the same time her outfit adjusts. Sneakers shrink into black Mary Janes, and oversized pant-legs evaporate upward, revealing inch after inch of long legs wrapped in dark stockings. Above the knee, several inches of creamy thigh are revealed before the remainder of the pants morphs into a short, pleated, camo-patterned skirt. Meanwhile, what had once been a brown t-shirt fades into a pale green, button-up blouse cropped to leave her feminine abs visible. By the time she stands up, she is wearing a combat styled school uniform.
As her hair wraps itself into a waist-length brain, she flicks invisible dust from her short sleeves. “So now what?”
“Congratulations, girls! Good shooting!” The referee announces. “Please, proceed through the available exit, and have a nice day!”
You notice a door on the far wall opening up. A female symbol glows on the door’s surface, making it very clear for whom it is intended. Next to it, a second door remains closed, its unlit male symbol barely discernable in the dim lighting.