Nate considered his options for a moment, “Hmm… How about a minotaur? That seems like a big enough change to start with, but hopefully not too drastic.”
“Affirmative sir,” the Chronivac let out a small beep.
“Wait, is that it?” Nate blinked. He was starting to get a slight head ache.
“Yes sir,” Owen replied, “You may want to find a mirror.”
Nate’s eyes went wide. He grabbed the Chronivac and rushed to his bedroom. The head ache started to intensify just as he reached the mirror on the back of his bathroom door.
The cause was immediately apparent. Nate had two white horn nubs curling out of his head by his temples. He could watch them grow out in real time and- Oh man, they felt weird to touch.
“This… this is real! Really real!” Nate stared.
“Yes sir.” The Chronivac replied in the sophisticated accent, “You may want to remove your shirt.
“What?” Nate looked down at his shirt. He hadn’t seemed to change anywhere else. What was Owen talking about- Oh jeez!
His horns were almost three inches long now, going on four. Nate quickly scrambled to tug the garment off his chest before his new headgear got too large to fit through the collar.
“T-Thank you Owen.” He gulped, rubbing one of the horns again.
“It was nothing sir.” The Chronivac replied.
Nate reflexively tried to fix his hair now that his shirt was off, but it wasn’t sitting down right. It looked a bit longer than he typically kept it, but it was… unkempt? “Wild” might be a better word. Try as he might, it refused to lay down or look anywhere close to presentable. He could feel it start to trickle down his neck a bit. Minotaurs and mullets apparently went hand in hand.
It was around that time that the itching started. Nate saw a bit of hair grow out on his chest and arms and… oh wow, it wasn’t hair, was it? This was fur! He ran his fingers through it curiously, but then suddenly felt a distressing pressure on his backside.
Some part of Nate and his belt were fighting, and Nate felt like he was on the losing side. He quickly undid his pants, letting them drop down around his ankles. The pressure immediately felt better, but the sensation grew even stranger.
Nate turned, watching as the base of his tailbone started to grow out. Moo! Oh wow, he was getting a tail! It swished back and forth, and was growing even more fur than the rest of his body.
“Incredible…” He tried to reach back and feel it. It seemed to have a mind of its own though, and always flicked just out of his reach.
After what felt like a small eternity of staring at his tail, Nate finally looked back up at himself. He had a few hairy room mates in college, but Nate was quickly passing into the realm of beastial. The fur on his chest had continued to grow out, but his legs were really taking the brunt of it. From a distance he wouldn’t be surprised if it looked like he was still wearing slacks. Err, incredibly scruffy slacks.
His face and neck had their own fair share of fur. Nate ran his fingers up against his neck, feeling the stubble grow in real time. It wasn’t forming a proper beard. This was… something else. He was growing a fur coat on his head and legs…!
When Nate pulled his hand back from the scruff, he noticed the changes had started to affect his fingers as well. His nails had gone deep and black, just like a pair of-
Hooves! He looked down, watching his toes starting to merge together. Oh man, this felt weird…! He shifted his weight back and forth anxiously. The sensation wasn’t bad, and he wasn’t losing his balance, it was just… weird. The soreness in his horns started getting worse. He felt like his head was getting rewired to walk on these strange new feet.
Nate looked back up at his face. He almost fell over in surprise. Staring back at him were two stark yellow eyes. His nostrils flared, and he could see his face starting to push out. His nose darkened, and the bull could see the beginnings of a muzzle start to form.
The bull let out an anxious huff. Something was… wrong. Its thoughts were getting hazy. Or maybe just… slowing down? Its skull shifted, the overall size of its head shrinking a bit in comparison to the rest of its bulking mass.
“Something… wrong…” The bull struggled to get the words out right. It clopped back from the mirror over the Chronivac on its dresser. “Please help.”
“What can I assist with?” The fancy device responded. It talked so fast…!
“This not right…” The bull held its head. Its horns thickened, growing larger beneath its fingers, “Please make normal.”
“Affirmative sir!” The device beeped, “Adjusting reality so that it’s normal for you to be a minotaur.”
“Moo! What!?” The bull’s eyes went wide. It stared around in confusion as the room seemed to spin. Its computer desk became replaced by a set of heavy looking weights and other gym equipment. The bull’s closet full of office casual attire became a blur, only to reappear as a collection of high-visibility vests.
The boxers on the bull adjusted as well. They shifted into leather, lengthening down to just above its furry knees. Was this… a kilt?
“What you do…!?” The bull held its head. It was getting harder and harder to focus. Its face was covered in fur now. With each passing moment, it traveled further and further down its neck and shoulders. Its horns were at least a foot long now, and its bull head showed no sign of its prior humanity.
“I made it so that you’re normally a minotaur sir,” the box responded. “You’re much stronger now, so I made you a construction worker.”
“No…!” The bull shook its head, “Not right!”
A set of hard hats with horn holes started to appear on the bull’s dresser. The bull’s figure continued to bulk up. Its arms swelled, and even through the scruff on its chest the bull could make out a six pack… and then suddenly an eight pack! All the while the bull’s head grew smaller and smaller.
“Is there anything I can assist with sir?” The weird box chimed up.
“Not… supposed be here!” The bull tried to articulate, “Want be in bull’s world!”
“I think I can help you there sir.” The box beeped, “Reality shift. Applying fantasy setting…”
The walls of the bull’s bedroom suddenly started to change. They became carved out of stone, and the sky opened up overhead.
“What!? Where this!?” The bull swiveled its head around. Its room suddenly continued off in at least five different directions. Each stone corridor looked more confusing than the last.
Moss grew on the stone walls, and its personal effects began to shift into a variety of neglected adventuring equipment. The bull’s kilt shimmed, becoming little more than a scrap of loose cloth.
“Your maze sir,” said the mean voice.
The minotaur spun around, “Maze…?” It tried to focus on the word. Maze. Confusing place. Stuck?
“You wanted a world where you belonged. You belong here sir.” The voice was coming out of a small golden lamp. There was a faint smoke drifting out the top each time it spoke. “Is there anything else I can assist you with sir?”
The minotaur felt its hackles rise. It grabbed a stray axe off the wall. “No! No help!” The minotaur pointed it at the lamp. “You help enough!”
“Sir, I’m designed to make your dreams come true. Are you sure there’s nothing else I can assist with?” It was speaking so fast the minotaur could hardly make out the words.
“No! Leave the minotaur alone!” It took a swing at the lamp.
“Affirmative sir,” the lamp responded. It vanished before the minotaur’s axe hit the stone.
The metal clanged loudly, echoing off into the distance. The minotaur truly was alone now.