Jackson Kreene was an older man, living by himself in his old house - he'd previously been a wealthy socialite involved with actors and directors, hobbnobbing with the rich and famous as he pleased. But then when his wife left him, he took it poorly and mostly withdrew into his house. He was still independently very wealthy, but it was obvious he had lost a lot of the will to socialize. Not helped by feeling like, even though he tried to stay in good health, nobody else would even want to honestly get to know him - people would either want his money or they'd see some 55 year old guy and go with the more reliable young stud.
Even with how old he was, Jackson was not exactly as bad looking as he told himself he was - certainly his face was wrinkled, but not as bad as some men had it, and his hair was still thick if slightly grayed from the blond it used to be. His body was the result of easily a decade and a half of work, and even as he told himself it was compensation, it was truly impressive. Standing broad shouldered at 215 lbs, Jackson was more impressive than a good number of men half his age.
The problem was he wouldn't give himself the chance. And he knew it.
But then that evening he was jarred from his usual dark and lonely nostalgia by the sound of something landing near his door, and then a truck revving up and leaving in a hurry. He shook his head, he certainly hadn't ordered anything from Amazon or something in some time. Yet when he went out front he saw it was not a marked package. Nothing to hint at where this thing came from, nor any signs of who'd left it here.
He shrugged and took it inside, figuring he could at least open it up and see what it was.
Carving the box open, he furrowed his brow when he saw it was some sort of disc with "Chronivac" on top, and he crossed his arms, "...Whoever made this thing is probably older than me. Chronivac huh..." He looked at the disc in detail, wondering who sent it. He did have a computer, and he figured he might as well see what the gig was.
Going upstairs, Jackson loaded up his desktop computer and once everything was good he set up his new acquisition, loading it into the computer and hoping this wasn't a more destructive prank. He bit his lip when the screen went dark, and then whispered, "Huh..." when he saw the whole screen turn to a strange white and blue checkerboard aesthetic, figuring this would be some sort of gimmick program.
Then he heard a whirring noise from the computer, and shook his head at what popped up on screen, "...Flattery will get you nowhere." What he saw was a 3D complex model of himself, nude, on screen, standing in a T Pose. Every detail expertly rendered, showing in this case Jackson without the biases from Jackson's own perspective.
He started clicking through and noted there were a lot of menus on here. The older man started to think this might be some attempt at making a new photo editing software, though he had to wonder why it loaded a naked photo first. Maybe it was meant for more explicit services. He did note some of the menus and options were quite explicit. For all that he was older, he was not exactly a prude. He grinned a little at the sight and figured he could toy around with it a little bit.
It'd certainly be better than anything else Jackson was doing right now.
For the first transformation he decided...