Darkness.
Then—light.
Luceris's eyes snapped open, and at once he was assaulted by a shimmering field of blue. Light refracted in rippling waves above him, fragments of silver dancing across his vision. For a terrifying moment, panic slammed into him.
Water?
He was underwater. Deep underwater.
His chest seized. Instinct screamed at him to swim, to claw for air—but no matter how he flailed, his limbs moved sluggishly, resisting his command. The crushing weight of water pressed against his lungs.
"Oh hell no—" he choked out, bubbles streaming from his mouth—then he froze.
No burning. No drowning sensation. His chest expanded, pulling in the water, and instead of pain, he felt… refreshed. Almost energized.
Luceris blinked. "…Wait. I can breathe? Underwater?"
Another experimental inhale. Water rushed into his mouth, passed through something in his throat, and his body absorbed it as naturally as oxygen.
He let out a strangled laugh, the sound bubbling awkwardly through the liquid. "Well. That's new. Guess asthma won't kill me here."
He glanced down to assess his situation—only to freeze again.
Where his legs should have been, a long expanse of glistening scales stretched out. Deep ocean-blue, fading into pale turquoise at the tips, glittering faintly in the light. A powerful fin flicked lazily at the end.
Luceris stared.
His brain stalled.
Then, in his usual eloquence, he declared: "What the actual—when the hell did I become seafood?!"
He thrashed instinctively, trying to move as if he still had two legs. The result was catastrophic. His tail smacked the water with a deafening whump, spinning his whole body sideways like a capsized boat.
"Argh—!" He tumbled, flipping end over end, bubbles exploding around him. He flailed his arms wildly, which only made him spin faster.
For the next five minutes, the so-called genius of the interstellar age resembled nothing more than a drunken eel. He smacked his head against a passing rock, tangled his hair in a patch of seaweed, and at one point managed to wedge his tail directly into a crevice.
"This body—has—the coordination—of a wet mop!" he snarled, jerking until he popped free with a very undignified plop.
A passing school of small fish swam by, staring at him with beady eyes. Luceris swore one of them snickered.
"Don't you dare judge me, sushi!" he snapped, pointing accusingly. The fish scattered.
After far too many embarrassing attempts, Luceris finally paused, panting heavily. His tail flicked weakly, stirring the water. He forced himself to think.
Okay, tail. Fish tail. Fish swim with rhythm, not… whatever nonsense I just did.
He concentrated, moving the muscles carefully. The tail flexed, then pushed. He shot forward a few meters, startled by the sudden burst of speed.
"…Oh." His eyes widened.
Another flick—stronger this time. He surged forward again, cutting through the water like a knife. His hair streamed out behind him in long, sky-blue waves. For the first time since waking up here, exhilaration sparked in his chest.
"Hah! I got it! I'm Aquaman, but prettier!"
Of course, his triumphant moment ended immediately when he tried to twirl dramatically and smacked into a coral outcrop face-first.
"—ow."
He drifted upward, rubbing his nose. "Alright. Maybe Aquaman with a head injury."
Once he had mastered the basics of tail movement (read: managed not to drown himself with his own incompetence), Luceris angled upward. The water grew brighter, sunlight dazzling through the surface above.
He kicked hard. With a final push, his head broke free of the water, and he sucked in a massive breath out of habit.
Air. Real air.
The wind was cool, tinged with salt. The surface glittered like liquid diamonds under the sun. Luceris floated there, hair plastered to his cheeks, blinking at the endless sky.
"...Wow," he murmured. "So this is what drowning in style feels like."
He paddled awkwardly toward a nearby shore, dragging his tail behind him like an oversized anchor. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he flopped onto wet sand, gasping.
For exactly three seconds, Luceris allowed himself to relax. He sprawled on the shore like a stranded merman model, thinking vaguely that he must look ridiculous.
Then his tail grew… hot.
"Eh?"
Heat flared across the scales, rising sharper by the second. He yelped, propping himself up. The deep blue shimmer of his tail rippled, then began to… change. The scales dissolved like water droplets, melting into skin.
"Oh no. Oh no no no—don't tell me it's contagious, am I catching land legs—"
The fin split, stretching, reshaping. In the span of a few breaths, the magnificent merman tail vanished, replaced by two pale, impossibly long legs.
Luceris sat frozen, staring.
"…Hello, stranger," he whispered to his own knees.
He reached out hesitantly, poking his calf. Smooth. Warm. Human.
"Alright. That's unsettlingly efficient. A minute ago I was premium sashimi, now I'm a runway model."
He wiggled his toes experimentally. They responded with unnerving grace.
Then he tried to stand.
And immediately faceplanted into the sand.
"Argh—damn it! I knew I liked the tail better!"
Groaning, he rolled over onto his back, staring up at the endless sky. His chest heaved with laughter despite the sand sticking to his hair.
"…Fine. New world, new rules. I'll adapt. I always adapt."
But curiosity gnawed at him. Slowly, he crawled toward the edge of the water and peered into the surface.
The reflection that gazed back was not the exhausted, sharp-faced engineer he knew. This new face was… absurd.
Skin pale to the point of glowing, as if he'd been carved from polished marble. Sky-blue hair tumbled down his back in silky waves, sparkling faintly in the sunlight. His features were delicate, androgynous, almost ethereal—but what caught him most were the eyes.
Golden. Bright, molten gold, staring back with startled intensity.
Luceris blinked. His reflection blinked.
He leaned closer. The reflection leaned back.
"…Holy crap." He touched his face, awestruck. "I'm gorgeous."
A beat of silence.
Then he slapped the water indignantly. "What the hell, universe?! Why would you make me look this fragile when I'm clearly overpowered? Do I look like I eat macarons all day?!"
The water rippled mockingly.
Luceris pointed at his reflection like it had personally insulted him. "Don't you smirk at me. I see you. You're ridiculous. No man should look this pretty and still be expected to conquer things. What am I supposed to do, flutter my eyelashes until enemies faint?"
His reflection, being uncooperative, fluttered its eyelashes back.
"Traitor."
Once he recovered from the betrayal of his own face, Luceris began the painful process of testing out his new legs. Every step was a disaster.
He staggered like a drunk toddler, crashed into a rock, tripped over his own feet, and at one point attempted a majestic stride only to collapse in a heap.
"This is unfair," he complained aloud, lying spread-eagle on the sand. "I invented faster-than-light propulsion, but I can't figure out walking. Walking! Babies do this!"
A crab scuttled past him, clicking its claws as if mocking him.
"Shut up, you." He flicked sand at it. The crab fled.
Finally, after much suffering, he managed a wobbly upright posture. His golden eyes narrowed in determination.
"Alright. Tail or legs, doesn't matter. I'll master this body. Then—" His stomach growled loudly.
"…Then maybe food first. But then—world domination."
The waves lapped gently at the shore, as if applauding his bold declaration.
Luceris tilted his head back, grinning despite the sand sticking to every inch of him.