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Tyler had just wrapped up another long day—work, errands, the usual grind—and crashed into his chair like always. He wasn’t really in the mood to play anything, so he figured he’d catch up on some older Veibae clips. She wasn’t live tonight, but her chaotic energy always made him laugh, and yeah… he wasn’t exactly gonna pretend he didn’t enjoy watching her flirt with her chat. As the clip rolled, the screen suddenly froze. Not buffering—frozen. Like, glitchy static, low buzzing in his headphones. Weird. He moved the mouse, tapped a key, but nothing happened.

Then her voice came through—crystal clear, like she was right next to him.

"You’ll do. Sorry."

The lights flickered. The screen flashed. Something sharp and electric surged through him, and before he could even shout, the world started spinning.

His body felt… wrong. Tight, cold, then flushed with heat. Muscles shifting, bones cracking—not painfully, just different. His hands shrank in real time, nails growing out and turning black. He stumbled to his feet, legs buckling under a weight he wasn’t used to—his center of gravity completely off. He then caught his reflection in the dark monitor. Long white hair. Pure blue eyes. Fangs. Horns. Veibae.

The outfit looked like something she’d actually wear on stream—purely black and white. She wore fingerless gloves, a cute miniskirt that perfectly complimented the thigh-highs she was wearing, and a choker, the whole thing like some kind of revealing schoolgirl cosplay. Except it wasn’t a cosplay. It was real. His—her—body was moving, blinking, breathing. The tail flicking behind her was real too.

"No no no. This is a dream. This is some kind of VR thing. This can’t be real—"

But the moment she opened her mouth, her voice came out exactly like Veibae’s. Sultry. Sharp. British accent and all. She clamped a hand over her mouth, wide-eyed.

And then, behind her, the screen lit back up. A message displayed in bold white text:

“Thanks for taking over. I’m done. I need out. Enjoy the fame.”

No signature. No warning. Just that.

Tyler stared at it, stunned. He didn’t know Veibae personally, obviously, but from what little she said on stream, he knew she’d mentioned burnout. Pressure. The feeling of being constantly watched, constantly on. Maybe she’d found a way out—and picked him, randomly, to take her place.

And now?

Now he was her.

Permanently.