Inside the room, with a few deft clicks on the Chronivac, Mike watches Jeff and Sir Nuttingham calmly prepare for another round of digitization. The two stand on the desk, their squirrely forms poised with some degree of eagerness mixed with the faint apprehension of what transformation lies ahead.
"Alright, you two," Mike announces with a grin, his eyes twinkling with the hint of adventure, "I've got a really cool idea for Jeff this time."
Jeff arches a tiny eyebrow, bracing himself alongside the armored squirrel knight beside him. In an instant, the world around them fades, their tangible selves translating into luminous streams of digital data. A moment later, they find themselves back once again in that infinite checkerboard world.
In the digital expanse, a vague target materializes in the distance, almost a mere blur at the edge of visibility. Jeff, fidgeting slightly, looks at the unclear target with a shrug, sparks of curiosity stirring his annoyance. "What are you planning now, Dad?" Jeff's voice echoes with digital resonance, a mix of curiosity and accustomed exasperation.
Mike, observing the pair from outside, turns to the Chronivac controls with a mischievous smirk, "Just wait, Jeff, you're going to love this."
With precise keystrokes, Mike begins altering Jeff's digital form. Jeff watches in mild disbelief as his right arm begins to reshape—forming into a sleek, robotic limb clad in polished, red-brown metal. It almost seamlessly blends into his fur, glinting under the light of the digital realm. His fingers flex involuntarily, the mechanical precision oddly fascinating.
"Whoa!" Jeff mutters, tilting his head to examine his new arm. His left leg follows suit, morphing into a similarly impressive robotic counterpart. He shifts his weight experimentally, the mechanisms offering unexpected stability and agility.
"And for the eyes," Mike continues, sliding another control. Jeff feels a change in his field of vision as his eyes transform into a visor. Animated cartoon eyes flicker in the display, reflecting his emotions—surprise, fascination, and that customary teenage irritation.
Jeff blinks, and for the first time, sees with clarity he never knew in his squirrel form. "Kinda freaky," he admits, peering around.
Next, Mike updates Jeff's attire—a green tunic and cap materialize around him, Robin Hood style, snugly fit but allowing the flow of movement. A bow appears at his side, a quiver with arrows strapped across his back.
Jeff sighs. "A bit much, don't you think, Dad?" he jests through his digital voice, feigning reluctance.
"Go on," Mike encourages playfully, "give it a shot."
With mock reluctance, Jeff draws an arrow, nocking it with innate precision. He releases it with a soft twang; the arrow sails through the digital air, landing with unerring accuracy against the distant target's center.
"Holy—" Jeff starts, eyes wide in disbelief.
"Not bad," Sir Nuttingham remarks, nodding in approval.
A flicker of amazement lights up Jeff's digital eyes as he draws another arrow, letting it fly. It splits the first one in perfect twain, the arrow shaft quivering in an almost cinematic stillness.
"Okay, that's actually pretty cool," Jeff mutters, trying to swallow his growing excitement. Despite his efforts to feign indifference, the gleam in his animated eyes and the triumphant flick of his tail betray his awe at his new badass form.