Hiros53 - Big Mornings (MG TF)

Hangovers suck. Especially when the muscles from last night still remain.

—

I woke up this morning and immediately knew something had gone horribly wrong.

This was not because I felt strange. I did not feel strange. In fact, physically speaking, I felt absolutely fantastic, which was honestly part of the problem. I felt like I could run through a brick wall, carry a carriage over my head, and possibly throw a medium-sized dragon through a castle window without needing to warm up first.

The problem became apparent when I opened my eyes and discovered that my feet were hanging approximately half a meter past the end of my bed.

I stared at them for several seconds.

Then I stared at the rest of myself.

Then I quietly said, "Oh, for fuck's sake."

Apparently, whatever Nagisa and Wan-Ting had done to me yesterday had not worn off overnight.

I was still three meters tall.

I was still built like someone had asked an enthusiastic sculptor to design the final evolutionary stage of a female barbarian.

I still had biceps bigger than my head.

Twice over.

I had checked.

Not because I was proud of them.

Because I needed to understand the severity of the situation.

It was severe.

That was how I eventually ended up sitting in front of my computer, although "sitting" was perhaps an optimistic description of the position I had forced myself into.

My knees were almost level with the desk.

My shoulders extended far enough past either side of the chair that I looked less like someone using office furniture and more like someone wearing office furniture as an accessory.

The chair had also been making a low creaking noise for the last ten minutes.

I chose to ignore it.

It was an expensive chair.

It would cope.

Probably.

I leaned toward the keyboard and immediately stopped when both arms flexed.

"Stop that," I muttered.

My arms did not respond.

Obviously.

They were arms.

Nevertheless, I felt the criticism had been warranted.

I flexed when I breathed too deeply. I flexed when I reached for things. I flexed while scratching my nose. At one point, I had attempted to tie my hair back and somehow managed to make my shoulders look wider in the process.

This body had no subtle setting.

Everything was apparently either relaxed or ready to conquer a neighboring kingdom.

I opened the Multiversal Search Archive.

The search bar blinked at me innocently.

I typed:

Temporary muscle transformation reversal.

There were four hundred and seventy-eight million results.

"Naturally."

I added another word.

Temporary extreme muscle transformation reversal.

One hundred and twelve million results.

I frowned.

Temporary extreme muscle transformation caused by magic.

Eight hundred million results.

I stared at the number.

"How did that make it worse?"

I added:

Dark goddess.

The results dropped to thirty-two million.

That was not comforting.

I added:

Crazy scientist.

The results increased to sixty-nine million.

I sat completely still for several seconds.

My chair creaked beneath me.

"Of course," I whispered. "Of course there are more crazy scientists involved than dark goddesses."

I reached for my coffee.

The mug disappeared inside my hand.

I knew it was there because I could feel it.

Visually, however, I appeared to be holding nothing.

I took a careful sip.

The handle snapped off.

I slowly lowered the mug.

That was fine.

Everything was fine.

I still had the rest of the mug.

For now.

I turned back toward the search archive and began typing with the delicate concentration of someone attempting surgery while wearing oven mitts.

How to Unmuscle Yourself After a Certain Idiot Made You Twice as Big and Ten Times as Buff as You Should Be.

One result.

I froze.

I clicked it immediately.

The archive opened an old discussion thread.

The title read:

HELP. ACCIDENTALLY TURNED ROOMMATE INTO MUSCLE GIANTESS. NEED TIPS FOR HOW TO REVERSE THAT.

Posted by: Wan-Ting. 

Eight years ago.

I slowly leaned back.

The chair screamed.

I leaned forward again.

"I am beginning to suspect I have surrounded myself with the wrong people."

That was, of course, unfair.

Yesterday had been fun.

At first.

Nagisa had arrived with wine.

Wan-Ting had arrived with something she insisted was technically wine if nobody examined it too closely.

I had objected to drinking experimental alcohol.

Then I drank some experimental alcohol.

There had been music.

There had been snacks.

There had been transformations.

Honestly, that was fairly normal.

The first transformation had only made me about twenty centimeters taller.

I had laughed.

Then Wan-Ting had given me something that made my legs longer and my waist slightly narrower.

I had laughed even more.

Then Nagisa had declared that I looked like some sort of heroic amazon princess.

I remembered flexing in front of the mirror.

That memory arrived suddenly.

I stopped typing.

"No."

Unfortunately, my brain continued remembering.

I had flexed.

Nagisa had applauded.

Wan-Ting had produced a syringe.

I had apparently asked what it did.

She had said, "It increases muscle density."

I had asked how much.

She had said she was not completely sure.

And then, because yesterday's version of myself was apparently committed to destroying today's version of myself, I had rolled up my sleeve.

I rubbed my face with one enormous hand.

"I refuse to accept responsibility for that decision."

Another memory surfaced.

Wan-Ting had injected me.

My arms had swelled.

My shoulders had broadened.

My thighs had expanded until I had accidentally destroyed the stool I was sitting on.

And I had shouted, "Bigger."

I stared straight ahead.

"I do not remember the context in which I said that."

I paused.

"The context is irrelevant."

The chair creaked again.

I shifted slightly.

Something underneath me cracked.

I froze.

Very carefully, I looked downward.

One of the chair legs had split.

I immediately looked back at the computer.

I had seen nothing.

The chair had always been like that.

Probably.

Another memory returned.

Nagisa had placed one glowing hand against my chest and announced that divine enhancement could improve the effect.

Wan-Ting had told her that combining divine magic with experimental biological alteration might make the transformation unusually persistent.

Nagisa had asked whether that meant permanent.

Wan-Ting had said, "Probably not."

I had laughed.

I had actually laughed.

Then I had apparently said the single most dangerous sentence anyone could possibly say while standing between a dark goddess and an insane scientist.

"What's the worst that could happen?"

I closed my eyes.

"There should be laws preventing drunk people from speaking."

When I opened them again, I looked down at myself.

I was currently wearing what had once been an oversized skirt.

It was no longer oversized.

It had given up around the shoulders and was now living a miserable second life as something halfway between a crop top and a surrender flag.

My favorite jacket would not fit one arm.

My boots were useless.

My trousers were a distant memory.

I had spent years cultivating a recognizable personal style.

Short orange hair.

Good jackets.

Sharp boots.

Clean lines.

Now my personal style was apparently angry orange-haired siege weapon.

This was unacceptable.

I returned to the search archive.

Persistent divine transformation reversal.

Three thousand results.

I added:

Muscle enhancement.

Two hundred results.

I added:

Accidental.

Seven results.

I opened the first useful-looking entry.

MAGI-TECH CROSS-CONTAMINATION: PERSISTENT PHYSICAL ALTERATION.

How the heck had I never heard of that?

I read it quickly.

Then slower.

Then I stared at the final paragraph.

Reversal requires intervention from the original magical and scientific sources responsible for the transformation.

I looked toward my phone.

My phone was blinking.

Three messages.

Wan-Ting:

Good morning! Important question. Are you still huge?

Nagisa:

Don't answer yet. I bet Wan-Ting twenty bucks that you are.

Wan-Ting:

Also, please avoid testing your strength. Preliminary calculations suggest it may have increased overnight.

I slowly looked at my broken chair.

Then at the cracked edge of my desk.

Then at the coffee mug handle lying beside my keyboard.

I picked up my phone.

Very carefully.

I typed one message.

"I hate both of you."

Wan-Ting responded immediately.

So you're still huge.

Nagisa responded one second later.

YES! I WIN!

I stared at the screen.

Then I put the phone down.

I decided I would deal with both of them after breakfast.

First, I needed more coffee.

The kitchen did not deserve what was about to happen.

Unfortunately, we cannot all have good mornings.