Jeff, filled with curiosity and skepticism, loads up a random video from his computer. With a shrug, he selects the option to integrate himself into it, dismissing the possibility that the Chronivac could actually transport him into a video. Displaying stats on a screen is one thing, but physically entering a digital world seems far too outlandish.
Suddenly, Jeff feels a strange tingling sensation, and his vision blurs. He barely has time to process what's happening before he disintegrates from the real world.
When Jeff regains consciousness, he finds himself naked and immobilized, strapped to a cold metal chair. His heart pounds as he takes in his surroundings: a room filled with anthropomorphic animals, each one observing him with a mix of curiosity and excitement. Among them is a kangaroo dressed in a doctor's coat, holding a syringe filled with a glowing green liquid.
"Let's begin," the kangaroo says with a sinister grin, inserting the needle into Jeff's arm.
Jeff's body convulses uncontrollably as he feels the liquid coursing through his veins. His skin burns and itches as black and white fur starts to sprout all over his body. He writhes in agony as a large, fluffy tail forces its way out from the base of his spine, twitching involuntarily. It’s a slow, excruciating process—his bones creak and shift, reshaping painfully.
His fur quickly covers most of his form in a solid black, save for a white area down his belly reaching up to his chin and two white stripes running from his head down his back, converging at the tip of his tail. His head morphs into a rounder shape, a pointy muzzle pushing forward, and a tuft of white headfur sprouting on top. His ears diminish into small, round skunk ears on the sides.
Jeff groans, the pain finally subsiding, but dread fills his heart. He remembers this clip all too well, and what happens next makes him shiver.
The next step caught Jeff completely off guard. In the dimly lit room, a group of the anthropomorphic animals brought forward a meticulously prepared outfit. It resembled an aviator's uniform with a vintage flair—complete with a fur-lined leather jacket, pilot's cap with goggles, gloves, pants, and sturdy boots. Jeff's stomach churned with anticipation; he had a sinking feeling that there was more to this suit than met the eye.
The badgers quickly and efficiently loosened the straps holding Jeff to the chair, but before he could even attempt to escape, they gripped him by his arms, legs, and muzzle with iron strength, making any thought of resistance futile. A faint click echoed in the room as a button hidden within one of the jacket's pockets was pressed. The animals wasted no time in pulling the suit over Jeff’s transformed body, their movements swift and practiced.
Jeff's fur bristled as the cool leather came into contact with his skin. But to his horror, it wasn't just clothing—it started to bond to him. The leather seemed to melt and merge with his fur and skin, a sensation both cold and burning, sending electric shivers through his body. The gloves fused with his hands, restricting their dexterity, the jacket adhered to his torso, making every breath a reminder of his entrapment, and the boots clung to his feet like they were molded specifically for him.
As the suit continued to merge with his body, Jeff felt an overwhelming compulsion to spread his arms and lower himself to the ground. The badgers, still holding him firmly, seemed to sense his thoughts. Lifting him effortlessly from the chair, they placed him on the cold floor. Jeff's legs were bent in front of him, with his belly pressing against his upper calves in an awkward position.
To his mounting horror, he realized he had lost control over his limbs. His body stiffened uncontrollably, and his muscles locked, leaving him helpless. His arms stretched out to either side, his belly pressed tightly against his legs, and his head was forced upwards, locking his gaze straight ahead.
The transformation grew more bizarre by the second. Jeff felt two hard protrusions emerging from his muzzle, growing larger and more structured until they formed a wooden propeller. Although it couldn't yet spin, its wooden texture sent shivers through Jeff's being. Meanwhile, his feet and the boots surrounding them began to reshape, becoming rounder and rounder. An axle sprouted between them, solidifying into a set of wheels. His legs metamorphosed into pipes that held these wheels in place, resembling landing gear attached to his belly and groin. Thin, wiry tendrils slung themselves between the pipes, tightening into place.
While Jeff's lower body underwent these changes, his arms started splitting in half. Each half expanded, growing thinner and flatter. Rigging bars and wires appeared between them, coalescing into a set of biplane wings. The transformation turned his arms into aerodynamic appendages, making him look more and more like an anthropomorphic biplane.
The surreal transformation continued, each twist adding to Jeff's mounting horror. Between his legs, a smaller hind wheel pushed through his skin, completing the trio of wheels necessary for landing gear. His bushy skunk tail then flattened and elongated, morphing into the tail rudder of a biplane, its striped patterns blending into the metallic sheen.
Jeff's body further elongated, becoming more cylindrical in shape. A hollow cavity started to form on his back, developing into a rudimentary cockpit. One of his newly formed wings positioned itself above this cockpit while the other settled below, creating the classic biplane design. The leather of his aviator suit stretched and morphed, becoming part of the aircraft structure.
His chest and neck elongated as well, taking on a cylindrical form. His head, the last part of his humanity, reshaped drastically. It swelled and formed into an engine, with his eyes and mouth flattening out, seemingly painted on as part of the aircraft nose art. Jeff's bewildered expression and terrified eyes were now an unsettling design on the front of his new, mechanical form.
Internally, Jeff could feel gears and wires intertwining with his biological components, every fiber of his being screaming at the unnaturalness of it all. Though he couldn't move, his mind was still painfully aware, trapped inside this unholy fusion of flesh and machine. As he lay there, fully transformed into an anthropomorphic biplane, an overwhelming dread settled in his mind.
As the transformation reached its zenith, Jeff's body completed its evolution into a Sopwith Camel WWI fighter biplane, albeit with some modern modifications. Wheels, propeller, and wings—all impeccably detailed, merging historical authenticity with cutting-edge technology.
Inside the now-completed biplane frame, Jeff's consciousness struggled to adapt. His mind had been transferred into a small onboard computer, reduced to software running within the mechanical confines of his new form. The screen that had stared back at him moments before now served as his only interface to the world, a cruelly ironic twist.
Memories surged within him, recalling the series the clip was from. He knew that, under typical circumstances, he would eventually gain some control over his plane body. However, he also knew all too well that this initial transformation stage was designed to strip away all autonomy, rendering him powerless—a mere object incapable of movement or interaction.
Trapped within his metallic and synthetic skin, Jeff could perceive everything around him with stark clarity. The room's cold, clinical air, the smug satisfaction on the anthropomorphic animals' faces, the subtle shifts in light as they moved around him—all of it was agonizingly clear yet untouchable. His mind screamed for release, for the ability to move even slightly, but he was left as an inanimate object, a biplane devoid of control over his fate.
A higher-ranking anthropomorphic wolf, clad in a uniform that blended the flair of a pirate captain with the ruggedness of an aviator, strutted into the room, eyeing Jeff critically. His piercing gaze swept over every inch of Jeff's new biplane form.
"Another Camel," he muttered, referencing the 'Sopwith Camel' model Jeff had become. The wolf's lips curled into a sneer. "Barely worth the spare parts."
Without another glance at Jeff, the wolf barked orders. "Get him fixed!"
The other animals sprang into action, their movements precise and well-rehearsed. Some of them gathered paint cans and brushes, ready to overhaul Jeff's appearance. Meanwhile, an anthropomorphic raccoon scrambled into the cockpit, his nimble fingers deftly unfastening bolts and connectors. Within moments, the raccoon carefully extracted Jeff's onboard computer, the very essence of his mind.
As the computer was removed, Jeff felt a sudden rush of disorientation followed by overwhelming darkness. His consciousness flickered, destabilized and then snuffed out, leaving him in a void of nothingness.
The raccoon, known as Gizmo, carefully carried Jeff’s onboard computer to his personal workspace. Gizmo’s domain was a nerdy haven—a cluttered sanctuary brimming with tools, computers, and an array of electronics. It was a chaotic yet meticulously organized environment, with wires and circuit boards scattered everywhere.
Gizmo wasted no time in connecting Jeff’s computer to a makeshift setup he had devised, one that linked power, audio, and a computer terminal. With a few swift keystrokes and a flick of a switch, the system hummed to life.
Jeff's consciousness rebooted within the cold, unfeeling interface. He was now stranded in an internal void, devoid of any sensory input, save for the ability to hear through the microphone Gizmo had set up. Panic surged within him as he grasped his new reality. Desperately, he tried to make sense of his predicament.
“W-where am I?” Jeff's voice trembled through the audio output connected to Gizmo's terminal.
“Hey, hey, calm down,” Gizmo’s voice came through, surprising Jeff with its calm, seemingly compassionate tone. “You’re safe—for now. My name's Gizmo. What's yours?”
“Jeff,” he managed to mutter, his voice shaky. “What’s happening to me?”
Gizmo sat down in front of the terminal, his expression a mix of sympathy and professional detachment. “Alright, Jeff. Here’s the deal. You’re now part of the Sky Pirates’ crew. That's our captain, Captain Lupine, who just checked you out. We’ve got a mission, and everyone needs to be obedient to the captain.”
Jeff's pulse raced at the ominous demonstration of purpose. “What do you mean, obedient?”
Gizmo sighed, adjusting his glasses. “For non-voluntary recruits like you, that means I have to make some... adjustments to your mind. It’s my job to ensure you follow orders to the letter, even if that means altering who you are.”
“No, please!” Jeff pleaded, his voice cracking with desperation. “You can’t do this!”
Gizmo's fingers flew across the keyboard with practiced ease, inputting a series of commands. He paused briefly, then looked directly at Jeff’s computer interface before pressing the enter key.
"Well, actually, I can," Gizmo said flatly, hitting the key with a decisive click.
Jeff's processing unit buzzed with a sudden, intrusive change. He felt his speech protocols being forcibly rewritten. His next attempt at communication made him cringe internally even before the words left his audio output.
"The most honorable being, Gizmo, please, you can't do this to me!" Jeff begged, the mandatory phrase twisting like a knife in his virtual gut.
Gizmo smirked, clearly amused by the shift. "See, it's working already," he said, leaning back in his chair.
Jeff hated the enforced deference, but his plea for mercy continued despite the humiliation. "The most honorable being, Gizmo, I'm begging you, don’t alter my mind. Let me go!"
Gizmo’s expression softened slightly, but there was still a hardened edge to his demeanor. "Jeff, I understand that this is difficult for you, but it’s the only way to ensure you serve Captain Lupine effectively."
"The most honorable being, Gizmo, there must be another way!" Jeff’s voice was both pleading and exasperated. The repetitive honorific grated on him with every utterance.
Gizmo sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable with the emotional weight of Jeff’s pleas. "Look, Jeff, let’s just get through this. I promise I'll try to make it as painless as possible. But you have to understand—your old life is over. You’re part of the crew now."
"The most honorable being, Gizmo, I can't accept this," Jeff said, his voice thick with desperation and the artificial respect he was forced to show.
Gizmo paused, noticing the distress in Jeff's synthesized voice. With a sigh, he started typing furiously on his keyboard again. “Alright, I’ll undo the speech modification,” he murmured, pressing enter to revert the changes.
"Listen, Jeff," Gizmo said, his tone shifting to a more empathetic one. "It doesn't have to be bad. You might not even notice the changes. And the sooner we get through this, the sooner you can have your body back."
Jeff's mind whirled with conflicting emotions, but the palpable sense of relief washed over him as he regained the ability to speak naturally. "Thank you, Gizmo."
But before Jeff could dwell on his regained control, Gizmo inputted a series of commands to enforce unconditional obedience to both Captain Lupine and himself. He added a subroutine for a friendly affection towards Gizmo. Lastly, he noticed Jeff's fear levels were alarmingly high, so he created a command to lower them, causing Jeff to become much more relaxed.
Gizmo pressed enter one final time. "See, all done," he announced, a hint of pride in his voice. "Probably didn't even hurt."
Jeff's digital consciousness recalibrated, and he felt a strange but undeniable shift. The iron grip of fear loosened, replaced by an almost serene calm. "I feel... different, but not in pain," Jeff admitted, surprised by the tranquility in his own voice.
"Good," Gizmo replied, leaning back in his chair. "We needed to make sure you could function properly as part of the crew. Just stick with me, and you’ll find it’s not as bad as you think."
"Alright, Gizmo. I get it," Jeff said, feeling a newfound and oddly genuine sense of trust blooming within him.
Gizmo leaned forward, his fingers dancing across the keyboard once more. "Now, Jeff, the next thing will take a bit of time. Being a plane, you need to be able to fly."
He initiated a series of commands designed to upload a pilot's worth of knowledge directly into Jeff’s mind. "This might feel a bit odd," Gizmo warned.
Suddenly, Jeff’s consciousness was bombarded with new information. Aerodynamic principles, navigation techniques, emergency protocols—it was like opening a floodgate. His thoughts hopped erratically from one topic to the next, struggling to process the torrent of data being integrated into his mind.
Minutes ticked by, each one feeling like an eternity. Finally, the flow of new information began to taper off. Gizmo's voice cut through the haze. "Jeff, are you alright?"
"I... I think so," Jeff murmured, his train of thought slowly stabilizing. His mind felt heavy and cluttered, but he could sense the wealth of knowledge nested there now, waiting to be deciphered and used.
They waited in silence for a bit longer, allowing Jeff’s mind to fully process the incoming data. As the information settled, Jeff found himself marveling at the breadth of his newfound expertise, but a nagging doubt gnawed at him. "Will I ever be human again?" he wondered aloud.
Gizmo chuckled, the sound almost casual. "Human? Why would you want that, Jeff? Being a skunk or a biplane is way cooler!"
Jeff felt a pang of disbelief, but before he could respond, Gizmo unplugged him from the current setup. "Alright, I'm going to plug you into a flight simulator. This will feel like you're back in your plane body. It'll help you get used to your new abilities."
True to his word, Gizmo connected Jeff to the flight simulator. Instantly, Jeff’s perception shifted. He was back in his plane body, the virtual environment indistinguishable from reality. The controls, the sensation of the wind, the resistance of atmospheric pressure—it all felt genuine, as though he were truly flying.
Guided by the fresh knowledge in his mind, he began to navigate the simulated skies. For the first time since the horrific transformation began, a glimmer of excitement mixed with his otherwise tumultuous emotions.