It was a day like any other for Quentin Andross, Drangua and leader of the NanoCorps, as he strolled through the bustling streets of Toweral City with a folded shopping list in his hand.
From the crowd ahead, a short hooded figure emerged, no taller than his chest. The cloak hung low, edges brushing the ground, hood shadowing their face. Their movement was...wrong. Too smooth. They seemed to glide rather than walk, feet barely disturbing the dust.
Quentin’s brow furrowed as the figure stopped directly in front of him.
“Kehehe...” The laugh slithered out.. “You look worthy enough to receive this gift, ‘hero’...”
“Who exactly are you?”
Instead of answering, the figure lifted both hands, revealing an ordinary wooden chest. Plain, worn, bound with simple metal bands. They pushed it toward him.
“For you.”
Quentin didn’t take it right away. “What’s the catch?”
“Fate rarely needs a catch,” The figure replied, voice lilting with smug amusement. “Just...potential.”
Against his better judgment, Quentin reached out and accepted the chest.“Wait, what are you—?”
A swell of people passed between them. Someone bumped his shoulder; his vision flickered for an instant. When he looked back, the hooded figure was gone...they simply vanished.
“...Yeah, that’s not suspicious at all.” Quentin muttered under his breath, staring at the chest. Curiosity gnawed at him like an itch under his skin. He tamped it down, opening a random, cursed loot alone in an alleyway was exactly the sort of thing Amber would do.
“Returning to headquarters might be the smartest thing to do right now.” He sighed before shifting the chest under one arm and launching himself skyward, wings tearing out behind him as he headed toward the NanoCorps base.
Back at the NanoCorps headquarters, the central hall hummed with a comfortable, half-idle energy. Most of the main team was scattered across missions, but a familiar handful lingered.
Zeke leaned against a support pillar, arms folded, head slightly bowed as if half-asleep—though Quentin knew those eyes missed nothing. Beta stood near one of the holo-consoles, crimson visor scrolling with streams of data. Adelee hovered in the middle of the room, sitting upside down in mid-air while playing a game with Topaz on their tablets, both of them mashing buttons and shouting.
On a nearby couch, Xaria lounged with one leg crossed over the other, a teacup delicately perched between clawed fingers. Near the back, the Three Marine Stooges, Petire, Ralph, and Sharper, were in the middle of a heated debate over who had eaten the last bag of chips.
The main doors slid open as Quentin walked in with the unfamiliar chest tucked under his arm. He set it down on the central table with a solid thunk. “Hey, guys, we’ve got either a potential problem or a treasure. Probably both.”
The room’s chatter trailed off as everyone turned toward him.
Zeke’s gaze flicked from Quentin to the chest. “That doesn’t look like something you buy with headquarters funds, kid.”
“Some strange person handed it to me in the street.” Quentin said. “Thought about chasing them, but they vanished.”
Beta stepped closer, scanners humming faintly. He ran a hand over the surface of the chest without touching it, lines of light flickering across his visor. “Material: mundane. Wood, iron bands. No obvious enchantments on the container itself.”
Xaria’s eyes narrowed as her attention sharpened like a blade. “The container may be plain, but what sleeps within is not. There is a pulse, like a heart waiting to be placed on a throne.”
“Well, that’s not ominous at all.” Ralph muttered.
“Only one way to find out, kid.” Zeke jerked his chin at the chest. “Open it.”
Quentin exhaled through his nose. “Alright. Brace yourselves.”
He placed his hands on the lid and flipped it open.
Inside was delicate yet regal, a circlet of strange gold that shimmered faintly with an iridescent sheen. Four small gems were set along the band: one red, one blue, one pink, one yellow. At the center, slightly protruding forward, sat a larger pink gem that seemed to glow from within, light pulsing as though it were quietly breathing.
“Is that a crown?” Topaz scoffed. “All that buildup for head jewelry? That sucks.”
“Be careful, dear.” Xaria said, setting her cup aside and rising to her feet. “That crown possesses magic.”
Quentin lifted it out of the chest, holding it up to the light. “You mean this cosplay prop is magical?” He muttered. “Doesn’t look like it...”
“Only one way to find out!”
Before Quentin could even react, Adelee popped into existence at his side in a puff of cartoon-style smoke, snatched the crown from his hands, and plopped it onto his head with a comically loud ding.
“H–HEY!” Quentin barked, hands shooting up too late.
Adelee swept into an exaggerated bow. “All hail King Andross! I bow to your suroerency!” She declared, deliberately mispronouncing sovereignty.
The Three Marine Stooges and Topaz burst out laughing at her antics.
“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.” Quentin grumbled, reaching up for the crown. “Real funny until—”
The world exploded into light.
A blinding, radiant flash burst from the crown, swallowing the room in a flood of color. Zeke threw an arm over his face while Beta’s visor auto-dimmed, shielding his optics. The Stooges shrieked and dove behind the couch, dragging Adelee and Topaz with them. Xaria’s hair whipped around her as she instinctively lifted her hands, dark aura flaring—then, sensing no direct attack, she lowered them and watched.
Then, as abruptly as it had begun, the light snapped away.
Silence fell.
Everyone blinked the spots from their vision and turned toward the spot where Quentin had been standing.
Zeke was the first to recover. “...That’s new.”
Petire’s voice cracked. “S-S-Sweet Blue Seas...”
“Damn...” Ralph breathed, eyes wide.
Sharper’s jaw hung open. “N-N-No way...”
“Oh my~” Xaria purred, a slow smile curling her lips.
“Wowy zowy...” Adelee’s jaw practically unhinged, dropping to the floor with a cartoon clank as Topaz just stood there, utterly speechless.
In Quentin's place stood a stunningly beautiful woman.
Long, flowing black hair cascaded down to her waist, sleek and glossy, with vivid red tips blazing at the ends, an inversion of his usual color scheme. Soft bangs fell across her forehead, veiling her left eye.
Her body was slender yet voluptuous, wrapped in an elegant, form-fitting black gown that clung to every curve. Red frills traced around her waist and hips, emphasizing her hourglass figure. The sweetheart neckline dipped to frame an ample, full bosom, while a subtle cutout at her midriff revealed a toned, flat stomach.
From her head, a striking pair of red dragon horns curved back through her hair, polished and sharp—undeniably Drangua, reshaped to suit her new feminine form. On her feet, a pair of black-and-red slingback high heels lifted her to nearly Quentin’s original height, her legs long and smooth beneath the fall of the gown.
And upon her head, the crown that started it all had shrunk slightly and now rested like a jeweled diadem, its central gem glowing softly against her forehead.
Her single visible eye darted around the room, confusion clear in the crimson iris.
“Uh...guys?” She said, her voice was smooth and velvety, naturally alluring. The sound made her flinch.
She glanced toward a nearby darkened holo-monitor, catching a reflection of herself, and froze. Slowly, she stepped closer. Her hips swayed with each movement, the gown hugging her legs. She placed a hand on the console to steady herself and leaned in, staring at her reflection.
“...What the hell happened to me?”
“Holy hell, Andross, you look...you look gorgeous!” Topaz blurted, his cheeks turning pink.
“That does not help, Topaz.” She muttered, feeling her own cheeks warm. Her hands slid through her new hair before shooting up to the crown. She grabbed it and tugged.
It didn’t move.
She pulled harder, teeth gritting, but it felt like the crown had fused directly to her skull. “Oh no. Don’t tell me...”
“Oh, it’s stuck?” Zeke sighed. “That’s not good.”
“Golly, guess it is magical...magically cursed, that is.” Adelee giggled sheepishly.
The female Quentin turned a withering glare on her, Adelee mimed zipping her mouth shut.
Beta stepped up beside her, visor flickering with scanning lines as he swept her from horns to heels with a soft red beam. “Intriguing. Your body has indeed changed, along with your gender.” His voice remained perfectly calm. “But your biometrics and core Drangua signature indicate you are still the same Commander Andross.”
“Pretty much, yeah,” Quentin said, voice tight as her hand drifted down to her now very different hip. “Still me. Just...with extra...everything.”
“The object remains firmly affixed to your head.” Beta continued. “It resists all attempts at separation. Attempting forced removal without additional data risks critical damage to your skull or possibly your soul. Scanning complete. Processing will require time.”
Quentin exhaled slowly through her nose. “So I’m stuck like this for now.”
“For the moment,” Beta confirmed. “Suggestion: take a walk around Toweral until further notice. Movement and interaction may yield additional data on the crown’s effects and limitations.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes,” Beta said. “You are unlikely to discover more by sitting here and, as you say, ‘twiddling your thumbs.’”
She grimaced. “...Fine.”
Quentin flicked her new, heavier hair back over her shoulder, drawing the room’s attention all over again. She headed toward the entrance, each step unintentionally punctuated by the soft click of high heels against the floor. Her newly shifted balance made her hips sway with a smooth, natural rhythm.
"...Today's gonna be an awkward day for us" Zeke sighed.
And with that, the newly crowned “Dragon Mistress” shoved the doors open and stepped out into Toweral City—unwilling, confused, and very, very aware that nothing about her day was normal anymore.
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