She's working from home, doing employee-facing tech support for a local ISP. She hates her job, but when she's on the phone with a user the charm flows into her voice so smoothly that you could never tell she was hurting.

"Oh, that's awful! I know just how it feels when something breaks like that."

"I've been there! Don't you worry, we'll get this fixed right up."

"Ooof, that's a rough one. Tell me more about what's going on?"

The worst part is that while she's in these calls, she is this person, cheery and heartfelt and glad to help. It's not even a mask, because that would mean she knew how to put it on and take it off properly, or that there was something underneath. No, it's just a change, and then when the call ends she changes back with a twisting, empty feeling.

Hours, an insipid lunch, and more hours later, she clocks out and shuts down her computer. She can't even be bothered to try working on a project right now.

Well, maybe she'll go get a few groceries. She could do with a walk, and maybe she could get something to justify actually cooking. She takes off her skirt and puts on a pair of pants — you can't be openly trans in the Deep South, it's not remotely safe — and heads out the door.

As she's crossing a street, a pickup truck on oversized wheels comes barrelling down doing double the speed limit. She only sees it out of the corner of her eye for a moment, and then everything goes black.

She comes to on a solid floor, hard under her back. Seas save her from drunk fratboys driving like they own the road. At least she doesn't feel like she's aching anywhere. They must have her on the good drugs for this. This sure feels harder than a hospital bed, though.

She pats herself down...

...and swiftly discovers her body is shaped rather differently than she remembers.

What.

She opens her eyes and looks around.

She finds herself in a stone room, one heavy wooden door (barred). A few dusty boxes and shelves are scattered near the walls, empty of anything other than cobwebs. Next to her is a well-made leather backpack, several objects strapped to the sides: lantern, axe, bedroll, grappling hook, and what appears to be a collapsible telescope. Just past that is a picnic basket of all things. Sitting atop her chest is a piece of paper.

Speaking of her chest, it's rather curvier than she expected, given that she doesn't remember starting hormones yet. She has a pair of plush, D-cup breasts in a metal bikini top, and wow they feel surprisingly good to touch. Do all boobs feel this good, or just hers? Speaking of which, why the fuck does she have boobs now? She's certainly not complaining, but this is very different. She's also got a trim waist, nicer abs than she's had since high school, curvy hips (wearing the matching bikini bottom), and very long legs.

Oh, and a gelatinous, dark violet foxtail.

She blinks incredulously, then grabs at her hair. It's longer than she remembers, violet, and likewise gelatinous. She still has her curls, at least. She pats the top of her head and finds a pair of sensitive squishy fox ears that feel just as gooey as her tail.

She has apparently been magically transitioned into a hybrid of a googirl and a foxgirl.

What.

Honestly, she's pretty thrilled with this. It's weird as fuck, and surprising, but this is an excellent surprise. Wait, huh.

She's in a different place, she has shiny new adventurer-themed stuff, and she has a new body that resolves all her dysphoria. Is this an isekai? She's never had memorable dreams before, so that votes against an extremely vivid dream, and even hallucinogens took a bit of deliberate cooperation before she could trip on them. She really doesn't have a very hallucination-compatible mind at all. Never has.

Okay, probably an isekai. Does she know anything she didn't before?

...Wow. Just poking at how the basket she's looking at must've been made unfolds into a bunch of details she didn't know before about basket-weaving. Yeah, that's new knowledge, alright. She'll have to do a proper inventory there later.

Okay, if she's in an adventure-shaped isekai, there'll be combat. What does she know about combat? Can she throw a punch? She starts unfolding some threatening hypotheticals in her mind, letting them blossom into stories she can respond to.

Yeah, that's a lot of combat knowledge. Feels burned in and instinctual, easy to access, with practiced motions she could burst into. And a lot of it seems to involve tactical shapeshifting? Huh. And swords. She knows a lot about swords, especially sabers.

Her eyes fall on the axe hanging from her bag.

"Really? Really? You gave me sword skills and an axe!? Wow."

She shakes her head, keeps considering. Magic? There's a sense of... something there, but it's not directly usable. Maybe she can enchant? That feels plausible with these instincts.

Her eyes land on the note. Probably time to read that.

Hi there!

Welcome to your new life in the Tentacle Realm! There will be lots of sex, and lots of things are out to get you. I hope you enjoy the new body, and the new friends you'll make here. You should be aware that you can't really eat plants or fungi anymore, not on a level beyond spices. As far as the goo thing, you're made of ink now. You'll get better at textures over time.

I even got you a sponsor, here! The Curious Oracle thinks you're pretty neat, and She'll probably say hi in your dreams at some point. Sorry about the shitty drop location, though. There are reasons for it, but they're spoilers~.

And don't worry about Earth. Your alternate-future-girlfriends didn't exist in your timeline, so this was the best way to fix your isolation. That Earth was going down the tubes, anyway.

With love,

Sable

...

Seas she's such a cheeky bitch. Even to herself. Especially to herself. Fuck.

Okay, yeah, at least that fits with an isekai, and the bikini armor, and gives her a bit of context. Time to go explore?

She gets up and sifts through the picnic basket, pulls out the meat and cheese to transfer into the backpack, then takes as much of the rest as will fit in case she can give it to someone else. She manages to fit it all, somehow.

And then she creeps up to the door carefully and takes a look.