Ethan stared at the female school uniform spread across her bed, each piece mocking her with its inherent femininity. The Melville Cottage uniform consisted of a black pleated skirt, black feminine dress jacket, white blouse, and a dark purple necktie with three gold stripes. Black mary jane shoes completed the ensemble, arranged neatly beside the bed by someone with far more enthusiasm for this nightmare than Ethan possessed.

"This can't be happening," she muttered, picking up the skirt with two fingers as if it might bite. The fabric was surprisingly soft, high-quality. Of course it would be, at a place like Whateley.

She glanced at the plain white bra that had been included with the uniform and immediately shoved it into a drawer. "Not happening," she muttered firmly. The panties were barely tolerable—a necessary evil given the skirt—but she drew the line at strapping herself into a bra.

After delaying the inevitable for another ten minutes, Ethan began the awkward process of dressing. The mechanics of the uniform proved more complex than anticipated—the skirt had an inner button and a side zipper, the blouse required precise tucking, and the necktie was a complete mystery. The white thigh-high socks felt particularly foreign as she pulled them over her smooth legs. Each garment required adjustments to accommodate her unfamiliar curves.

A knock at the door froze her mid-struggle with the necktie.

"Ethan? You decent?" Jordan's voice called from the hallway.

"Define 'decent,'" Ethan replied, swinging the door open to reveal Jordan impeccably dressed in the boys' uniform—black slacks, white shirt, black jacket, and the same purple and gold necktie. The contrast between them made Ethan want to slam the door in his face.

"Wow, you look—" Jordan started, his eyes immediately dropping to the white socks highlighting Ethan's legs before jerking back up to her face. His cheeks flushed as he made a visible effort to maintain eye contact.

"Don't," Ethan cut him off. "Just... don't say anything."

Jordan moved past her into the room, his eyes darting briefly to her chest before he focused intently on the wall behind her. "You're going to be late. Here, let me help with that tie." Before Ethan could protest, he stepped forward and began fixing the tangled fabric at her neck, studiously avoiding looking anywhere else even as his peripheral vision betrayed him with quick glimpses.

"I don't know how girls do this every day," Ethan grumbled, staring at the ceiling to avoid eye contact. "The shoes pinch, the skirt feels like I'm wearing nothing, and this blouse makes me feel like I'm on display."

"If it helps, everybody else is in uniform too. You won't stand out." Jordan finished with the tie and stepped back.

"Right. I'll just blend in with all the other girls who used to be boys until their best friends turned them into anime characters."

Jordan winced. "I said I was sorry."

"Sorry doesn't fix this." Ethan gestured at her body.

"No, but Whateley might. That's why we're here." Jordan glanced at his watch. "We should go. Powers Theory starts in fifteen minutes."

Ethan sighed, grabbed her messenger bag—the one item she'd insisted on keeping from her old life—and followed Jordan into the hallway, pausing only to lock her door.

"At least we have our first class together," Jordan offered as they walked. "Introduction to Superpowers. It's supposed to cover the basics for all freshmen."

"Great. Learning to be a better freak," Ethan muttered, tugging at her skirt hem.

As they navigated the campus pathways toward Dunn Hall, Ethan observed other students in their uniforms. The standardization provided some comfort—at least until she noticed subtle customizations. A girl with metallic skin had added matching silver cufflinks. A boy whose hair constantly changed colors wore socks that did the same. These small expressions of individuality only emphasized how trapped Ethan felt in her new form.

The Introduction to Superpowers classroom resembled a small lecture hall, with gently sloping rows of seats facing a central demonstration area. Ethan and Jordan found spots in the middle row, neither wanting to appear too eager nor too disinterested.

Their instructor entered with purposeful strides. She had a professional yet approachable presence, dressed in tailored slacks and a stylish blazer in muted blues. Her dark hair was cut in a sophisticated bob with subtle silver streaks, and she wore a vintage-looking pin with the Whateley crest on her lapel. Her intelligent eyes carried warmth behind their analytical gaze as she scanned the classroom, taking measure of each student. Once the classroom filled, she began without preamble.

"Welcome to Introduction to Superpowers, the foundation of your education at Whateley Academy. I am Dr. Amanda Hewley, and I'll be guiding you through the classification and understanding of preternatural abilities." Her voice carried effortlessly through the room. "Before we begin cataloging power types, I want to emphasize one crucial point: powers are extensions of the self, not separate entities."

Ethan shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Her powers felt precisely like separate entities—unwelcome intruders that had hijacked her life.

Dr. Hewley continued, "Today, we'll overview the major power classifications. In future sessions, you'll undergo detailed assessment to determine your specific category and sub-types."

For the next hour, she outlined a complex taxonomy of mutant abilities: Energizers, Exemplars, Warpers, Wizards, Psychics, Manifestors, Shifters, and more. Ethan tried to focus, but her mind kept drifting to her own situation. According to Dr. Hewley's descriptions, she was primarily a Warper with spatial manipulation abilities—teleportation specifically—but the added martial arts skills suggested something more complex.

When Dr. Hewley began discussing "power integration" and "alignment with self-concept," Ethan's attention snapped back to the lecture.

"—which is why resistance to one's abilities often creates increased instability. The mind and body seek harmony. When we reject aspects of ourselves, particularly powerset manifestations, we create conditions for unpredictable outcomes."

Ethan felt as if Dr. Hewley was speaking directly to her. Was her resistance making her powers worse? The thought was disturbing—it suggested accepting this new form as a prerequisite for control.

After class, as students filed out, Dr. Hewley called out, "Ms. Anderson, a moment please."

Ethan froze, then turned back. Jordan gave her a questioning look, but she waved him ahead. "I'll catch up."

When the room had emptied, Dr. Hewley approached. "Your file indicates spatial warping with control issues. I noticed you seemed particularly interested in the section on integration conflicts."

"I—I was just paying attention," Ethan said defensively.

Dr. Hewley smiled slightly. "You're far from the first student to struggle with reconciling identity and abilities, Ms. Anderson. Especially given your... unique circumstances."

"You know about that?" Ethan felt her face heat up.

"I review all incoming student files, particularly those with unusual manifestation patterns. Your case is certainly distinctive, but not entirely unprecedented."

"There are others like me?" Hope flickered briefly.

"Not exactly like you, no. But transformation-related manifestations occur with some regularity. I've scheduled you for comprehensive powers testing this afternoon." She handed Ethan a slip with room information. "The results will help tailor your education plan."

Ethan took the paper, uncertain whether to feel reassured or more anxious. "Thank you."

"One more thing," Dr. Hewley added as Ethan turned to leave. "Given your teleportation incidents, you might consider requesting a medical exemption for physical education classes until you gain better control."

"I'll think about it," Ethan replied, though the suggestion of hiding away made her bristle slightly. She'd spent enough time feeling trapped already.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Powers Testing Laboratory occupied a secure section of Kane Hall, accessible only through biometric scanners and reinforced doors. Ethan arrived five minutes early, clutching Dr. Hewley's referral note and fighting escalating nervousness.

The waiting area contained several other new students, each eyeing the others with varying degrees of curiosity or wariness. Ethan recognized a few faces from her morning class but didn't attempt conversation. She was too preoccupied with what might happen if her powers acted up during testing.

A young woman with slate-gray hair and a tablet approached. "Ethan Anderson?"

"That's me," Ethan replied, standing.

"I'm Paige Donner, testing assistant. This way, please."

Paige led her through another set of security doors into a large chamber filled with various equipment stations. Several white-coated technicians moved between monitoring devices, while in the center stood a circular platform surrounded by what appeared to be sensors or scanners.

"We'll begin with baseline readings," Paige explained. "Please stand on the central platform and remain still during the scan."

Ethan stepped onto the indicated spot, trying to ignore the fluttering anxiety in her stomach. The platform hummed beneath her feet, and she felt a tingling sensation as unseen energies passed through her body.

"Excellent. Now for the interactive assessment," Paige continued after a minute. "We've assembled various objects for you to attempt manipulating with your abilities. We understand you've experienced incidents of teleportation?"

"That's one way to put it," Ethan muttered.

A technician wheeled over a cart containing items of varying sizes: a pencil, a rubber ball, a book, and what appeared to be a small potted plant.

"We'll start with the pencil," Paige instructed. "Try to focus on moving it from the cart to that table across the room."

Ethan stared at the pencil, unsure how to consciously trigger an ability that had thus far only manifested accidentally. "I don't actually know how to do this on purpose."

"That's perfectly normal," Paige assured her. "Many new students haven't developed conscious control. Just focus on the pencil, visualize it moving to the table, and reach toward it with your mind."

Feeling slightly ridiculous, Ethan concentrated on the pencil. Nothing happened.

"Try closing your eyes," suggested an older technician who had wandered over. "Sometimes visual distractions interfere with initial control attempts."

Ethan closed her eyes, picturing the pencil clearly in her mind, then imagining it appearing on the distant table. Still nothing.

After several more failed attempts with different approaches, Paige made notes on her tablet. "Let's try something else. Sometimes emotional states trigger manifestations. Can you recall what you were feeling during previous teleportation incidents?"

Ethan thought back to the hallway incident with Kira, and the cafeteria moment with Rex. "Mostly embarrassment. Or surprise. Maybe stress?"

"Interesting. Let's try—"

A loud bang from across the lab made Ethan jump. One of the monitors had sparked and shut down, and a technician was hastily unplugging it.

The startled reaction triggered something in Ethan. She felt the familiar tingling sensation spread through her body, but this time it concentrated in her hand rather than enveloping her entirely. Before she could process what was happening, the rubber ball from the cart vanished with a soft pop sound, immediately reappearing ten feet away on a desk.

"There!" Paige exclaimed, eyes lighting up. "Excellent work!"

"I didn't do that on purpose," Ethan protested.

"But you did do it," the older technician pointed out. "Your subconscious recognized the pattern from previous manifestations and directed the energy more specifically this time. That's progress."

Over the next hour, they continued experiments with mixed results. Ethan managed to teleport the pencil intentionally after several attempts, but larger objects proved more challenging. The potted plant stubbornly refused to move, while a coffee mug unexpectedly vanished and rematerialized upside-down, spilling its contents.

Toward the end of the session, another student was brought in to observe—a girl with distinctive blonde hair streaked with pink. Ethan froze when she recognized Kira, whose expression shifted from boredom to alarm upon seeing Ethan.

"Why is she here?" Ethan demanded, feeling her anxiety spike.

"Ms. Devereux assists with shifter assessments," Paige explained. "She's here for the next student, but since you've demonstrated spatial manipulation, we thought her observational input might be valuable."

"I'd rather she didn't—" Ethan began, but she felt the tingling sensation returning, stronger this time. "Oh no."

"What's happening?" Paige asked, moving forward.

"I think I'm going to—" Ethan didn't finish the sentence. The table in front of her, complete with testing apparatus, vanished with a much louder pop than before. It reappeared moments later, floating briefly near the ceiling before crashing to the floor.

The noise and commotion brought additional staff running. Amid the chaos, Ethan caught Kira's eye. The shapeshifter wasn't smirking as expected, but watching with an oddly contemplative expression. When she noticed Ethan looking, Kira quickly averted her gaze.

"I think that's enough for today," the lead technician announced, helping a shaken assistant pick up scattered equipment. "Ms. Anderson, we'll continue assessment another time. You should rest—power manifestations can be physically draining."

As Ethan gathered her things to leave, Paige handed her a white wristband with "PACIFIST" printed in bold red letters. "Standard procedure for students with uncontrolled abilities that could affect others. It lets security and staff know to approach with appropriate caution."

Ethan stared at the band. "Great. A warning label."

"It's for your protection as much as others'," Paige explained. "And it's temporary—once you demonstrate consistent control, you'll be reclassified."

Ethan slipped the band onto her wrist, feeling branded. As she headed for the exit, Kira stepped into her path.

"Nice job with the table," she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Is there anything else you'd like to send flying around the room? Maybe the ceiling next time?"

"Didn't mean to do it," Ethan replied stiffly.

"That's kind of the problem, isn't it?" Kira's ears twitched slightly—not fully shifting to fox form, but betraying some emotional response she was trying to suppress. "You're a walking disaster zone. Do you have any idea how dangerous uncontrolled warping is? Or is property damage just your hobby?"

"Thanks for the lecture," Ethan said, stepping around her. "I'll add it to the pile of things I didn't ask for."

Kira's amber eyes narrowed. "Just stay away from me, teleport freak. I don't want to end up as your next accident." Despite the harshness of her words, something flashed behind her eyes that didn't quite match her tone. She moved aside with a huff, ears still twitching faintly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The final assessment of the day was with Sensei Ito in Laird Hall's martial arts complex. After the teleportation incident in the testing lab, Ethan approached this evaluation with even more trepidation. The last thing she needed was to accidentally teleport equipment—or worse, people—during combat practice.

Sensei Ito was a compact, stern-faced Japanese man with a penetrating gaze that seemed to strip away pretenses. He greeted Ethan with a formal bow, which she awkwardly returned.

"Anderson-san. I see you have been designated Pacifist." He nodded toward her wristband.

"It wasn't my choice," Ethan said.

"Few things in life are." He gestured to the training mat. "Show me your stance."

"I don't really have one. I've never trained in martial arts."

Sensei Ito's expression remained neutral. "Assume a defensive position as best you can."

Feeling foolish, Ethan adopted what she thought might be a fighting stance. To her surprise, her body moved with unexpected fluidity, settling into a balanced posture she didn't consciously recognize.

Sensei Ito circled her slowly. "Interesting. Your stance suggests training, despite your claim."

"I'm just trying to copy what I've seen in movies," Ethan explained.

"Is that so?" Sensei Ito said, his face revealing nothing. "Let us test your reflexes then."

Without warning, he made a swift strike toward her face, stopping just short of contact.

Ethan's body reacted before her mind registered the movement. She deflected his hand with her forearm and pivoted away, assuming a new stance that she had no conscious knowledge of.

Shock registered on her face. "How did I do that?"

"As I suspected." Sensei Ito nodded. "Your transformation appears more comprehensive than even you realized. Your file mentions you were changed through a device based on an anime character. It seems certain skills transferred along with the physical form."

"That's impossible," Ethan protested, staring at her hands in disbelief. "Skills are learned, not... downloaded."

"And yet," Sensei Ito gestured to her perfect defensive posture, "your body knows movements your mind does not."

For the next thirty minutes, he put Ethan through a series of exercises designed to test the limits of these inexplicable abilities. To her growing amazement, her body responded with techniques she couldn't name but executed with practiced precision. Complex movements, blocks, kicks, and evasions came naturally, though she couldn't explain how she knew them.

"Your situation is unusual but not without precedent," Sensei Ito explained as they concluded. "Some Warpers manifest abilities that draw from parallel realities or conceptual spaces. Your transformation appears to have created a connection to the skill set of the character that inspired your new form."

"So I didn't just get turned into a girl," Ethan said bitterly. "I'm turning into someone else completely."

"Not necessarily. The skills are there, but how you use them remains your choice." Sensei Ito made a note on his tablet. "I'm recommending you for Basic Combat class despite your advanced physical abilities. Without mental training to complement your instinctual knowledge, you risk developing erratic patterns."

"Does that mean I can skip the Pacifist restriction?" Ethan asked hopefully.

"No. That designation concerns your warping abilities, not your combat skills." Sensei Ito handed her a class schedule. "Basic Combat meets three times weekly. I expect punctuality and dedication, regardless of your unusual circumstances."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That evening, Ethan sat alone in a quiet corner of the Crystal Hall cafeteria, picking at her dinner while reviewing the day's events. The testing had confirmed she was primarily a Warper with uncontrolled spatial manipulation, but the martial arts revelation had thrown her completely. She'd never studied fighting techniques in her life, yet her body had responded to Sensei Ito's tests with practiced precision. What else might be lurking beneath the surface, waiting to emerge? The thought that Jordan's machine had altered more than just her appearance was deeply unsettling. Was she slowly becoming someone—or something—else entirely?

The white "Pacifist" band with its glaring red letters felt like a brand on her wrist, marking her as dangerous and unstable. At least she'd managed to teleport smaller objects intentionally. Small victories, she supposed, though it hardly balanced out the table-launching incident.

She was jarred from her thoughts when she noticed a student from her Powers Theory class approaching with a tray. He was athletic and energetic-looking, with short, styled black hair and an easy confidence in his movements. He wore the standard uniform, but there was something distinctly casual about how he carried himself despite the formal attire.

"Mind if I join you?" he asked, gesturing to the empty chairs at her table, a friendly smile lighting up his face.

Ethan hesitated, then nodded. She'd been avoiding social interaction all day, but isolation wasn't helping her mental state.

"I'm Jasper Chen," he said, setting down his tray with a fluid motion that spoke of athletic training. "But most people call me Jace. You're Ethan, right? I saw what happened in testing today."

"Great. Is everyone talking about it?" Ethan stabbed at her pasta.

"Not everyone. Just those of us who were there." Jace seemed unfazed by her curtness, his outgoing nature apparently immune to social awkwardness. "For what it's worth, I think it's cool you can teleport things. My power is way less impressive—I just absorb kinetic energy from impacts."

"That sounds useful," Ethan said. "Better than randomly sending stuff flying around the room."

"Maybe. But I had to break three ribs and my collarbone before I figured out how it worked," Jace replied, rolling his shoulder at the memory. "Powers are weird that way. They never seem to come with an instruction manual."

Despite herself, Ethan smiled slightly. "No kidding."

Another student approached—a girl with dark curly hair and piercing green eyes. "Is this the new student corner?" she asked, her voice carrying a faint accent Ethan couldn't place.

"Apparently," Jace replied, gesturing welcomingly. "I'm Jace, this is Ethan."

"Elara," the girl introduced herself, sitting down. "I'm in your Powers Theory class too."

As they ate, the conversation flowed more easily than Ethan expected. Neither Jace nor Elara pressed her about her powers or background, instead sharing their own experiences as new students. Jace described growing up in the foster system and discovering his abilities during a street fight. Elara spoke of her family's history with secret societies and her chronometry powers—the ability to manipulate time on a small scale.

"So you can see the future?" Ethan asked, intrigued despite herself.

"Not exactly," Elara explained. "I can accelerate or slow time in localized areas, but only for seconds. And I get these... time glitches when I'm stressed. Sometimes I see brief flashes of potential outcomes, but they're unreliable."

By the time they finished eating, Ethan felt marginally better about her situation. At least she wasn't alone in navigating unfamiliar abilities. As imperfect as Whateley might be, it offered something her previous life couldn't: context for what was happening to her.

Walking back to Melville, Ethan spotted a familiar figure in the courtyard—Jordan, deep in conversation with another student Ethan didn't recognize. The student was gesturing enthusiastically while Jordan nodded, looking more animated than Ethan had seen him since they arrived.

Ethan changed direction, approaching them. "Hey."

Jordan looked up, startled. "Ethan! I was going to come find you after dinner. This is Zephyr Dubois—he's in the art program."

The lanky student with unruly brown hair nodded at Ethan, his sweater bearing faint paint splatters despite the uniform requirements. "Call me Zeph. Jordan was just telling me about his inventions. Sounds fascinating."

"I'm still settling in," Ethan replied cautiously.

"How was testing?" Jordan asked.

"Fine," Ethan replied flatly. "I got labeled a Pacifist. Apparently teleporting tables is frowned upon."

"You can teleport things?" Zeph asked, his tired eyes lighting up with creative interest. "That's amazing! I just manipulate air currents. Mostly for artistic effects—patterns, swirls, that kind of thing."

"We should probably head back to the dorm," Jordan suggested, noticing Ethan's exhaustion. "It's getting late."

"Sure," Zeph said easily. "See you around. Maybe at the next study group?"

As he walked away, Ethan raised an eyebrow at Jordan. "Making friends already?"

"He overheard me talking about devisor theory in the library," Jordan explained. "He's pretty cool. Has these air manipulation powers he uses for art."

"Fascinating," Ethan said dryly. "Meanwhile, I spent my day being poked, prodded, and labeled dangerous."

Jordan's expression sobered. "I heard about the testing incident. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Just tired." Ethan sighed. "And confused. Apparently, this transformation goes deeper than we thought. I've somehow inherited martial arts skills from the character your machine based me on."

"That's... wow." Jordan looked genuinely surprised. "I didn't program anything like that into the QIR."

"Well, something happened," Ethan said. "Sensei Ito says my body remembers skills my mind never learned. He called it a 'quantum personality overlay'—whatever that means."

Jordan's expression shifted to one of intense concentration—his inventor face, as Ethan had come to call it. "That could explain a lot. Maybe the transformation isn't just physical but extends to certain mental patterns or muscle memory. If the QIR somehow accessed information about the character beyond just appearance—"

"I don't want to talk about this right now," Ethan interrupted. "I'm exhausted, and tomorrow isn't going to be any easier."

"Right, sorry." Jordan stepped back. "Get some rest. We can figure this out, Ethan. I promise."

As Jordan walked away, Ethan stood alone in the gathering dusk, feeling the weight of the white band on her wrist, its red letters seeming to glow accusingly in the fading light. Her first day at Whateley had confirmed what she feared most: her transformation went beyond skin deep. Whatever Jordan's machine had done to her, it was rewriting her from the inside out.

The question now was whether anything of her original self would remain when the process was complete—and whether she'd even notice when it was gone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

End of Chapter 02

Hey All!

SO, this is 2 big things for me.

My First attempt at the wonderful Whateley Academy Universe!
AND
My First Contest Entry!

There will be 10 chapters in total for my entry plus 3 flashback chapters.
I will release them daily or so (so as not to overwhelm the front page)

Likely I will be continuing this series, and no my other series are not on pause. I did slow down on them just a little bit while I go this one pounded out. But they are not put to the side.

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TTFN Everyone.