Chapter 2: A FOWL SITUATION GETS FEATHERS RUFFLED

Okay. Hallucination. Definitely a hallucination. A concussion-induced fever dream brought on by traumatic peacock-related head trauma. Just gotta close my eyes, count to ten…

She squeezed her eyes shut. One… two… you feathered son of a— She opened them again. The box was still there. In fact, another line of text had appeared below the first.

ADJUSTING TO NEW FORM… PLEASE DO NOT PANIC.

DO NOT PANIC?! DO NOT PANIC?! A glowing box just told me not to panic! That’s like a serial killer saying ‘this won’t hurt a bit’! And ‘new form’? What new form?!

She tried to stand up, to get a proper look at herself, but her limbs refused to cooperate in the way she expected. Instead of pushing up with her hands, her… front… things… scrabbled uselessly against the dirt. Her perspective was all wrong. The ground was way too close. She looked down.

And saw two scaly, greyish-brown feet. And a vast, sprawling expanse of dull, mottled brown and grey feathers.

No. No, no, no, no. This is not happening. This is a very, very bad dream. I’ve finally snapped. The job market broke me.

She twisted her neck—a neck that was now impossibly long and flexible—trying to see more of her body. She caught a glimpse of her own back, a drab, unremarkable landscape of earth-toned plumage. There was no vibrant blue. No majestic train. Just… dirt-coloured feathers.

Wait. No majestic train.

Her head, which was throbbing with a whole new kind of existential pain, snapped back to the floating screen. The words SPECKLESS PEACOCK seemed to burn brighter, more mockingly.

Peacock… Peacock. Not Peahen. PEACOCK. The male one. The one with the big, stupid, colourful tail… which I… don’t have.

The final, horrifying piece of the puzzle clicked into place. That bastard Resplendent Feather hadn’t just turned her into a bird. He’d turned her into a male bird. And not even a fully-realized one. A ‘Speckless’ one. A drab, boring, unfinished male peacock.

The rage that erupted within her was so volcanic, it momentarily eclipsed the sheer terror of her situation. It was a rage that needed an outlet. And the only available target was the glowing box.

“YOU!” she tried to scream, but what came out was a harsh, guttural Kraaah! sound. She flapped her wings—wings, I have WINGS—in frustration, managing to lift herself a few inches off the ground before tumbling back into the dirt.

The system, utterly unfazed, displayed a new message.

VOCAL CORDS UNSUITABLE FOR COMPLEX SPEECH. PROFANITY FILTER ENGAGED FOR SYSTEM COMFORT.

PROFANITY FILTER?! I’LL SHOW YOU PROFANITY, YOU GLOWING PIECE OF—

WARNING: HOST’S BIOMETRIC READINGS INDICATE EXTREME AGITATION. SUGGESTED ACTIVITY: CALM FORAGING.

CALM FORAGING?! I WILL FORAGE YOUR CIRCUIT BOARD AND SHOVE IT UP YOUR—

Her furious internal tirade was cut short by a rustle in the bushes at the edge of the enclosure. It wasn't the screech of a bird. This was something with teeth.

Su froze, every new instinct in her avian body screaming PREDATOR!

Out of the foliage slunk a… mongoose. It was sleek, brown, and its beady black eyes were locked directly on her.

Oh, you have got to be kidding me. A weasel. A fancy weasel is about to murder me. This is the most undignified death imaginable.

The mongoose darted forward, impossibly fast.

Panic overrode rage. Su’s body, apparently possessing more survival sense than her human one ever did, took over. She let out a terrified squawk and launched herself sideways. The mongoose’s lunge missed her by inches.

OKAY, FIGHT OR FLIGHT! FLIGHT! DEFINITELY FLIGHT!

She flapped her wings frantically, managing to get a few feet of air, but her flight was clumsy, ungainly. She was a ground bird, not an eagle. She crash-landed behind the fake rock formation, her heart hammering against her feathered breast.

The mongoose was on her in a second, scrambling over the rocks. It was playing with its food.

COMBAT INITIATED!

FOE: IRATE MONGOOSE (Level 2)

HOST: SPECKLESS PEACOCK (Level 1)

LEVEL 1?! I’M A LEVEL 1 PEACOCK?! AND IT’S LEVEL 2?! THIS IS BULLSHIT!

The mongoose lunged again, aiming for her neck. In a move born of pure desperation, Su didn’t try to fly. Instead, she spun around and kicked out with her powerful, scaly legs. It was a move she’d seen Resplendent Feather use. Her foot connected solidly with the mongoose’s side.

THWACK.

The mongoose let out a surprised yelp and tumbled back, shaking its head.

CRITICAL HIT!

IRATE MONGOOSE HP: 65%

HAH! HOW DO YOU LIKE THAT, YOU OVERGROWN FERRET?! SUCK ON MY LEVEL 1 KICK!

Emboldened, she pressed her… advantage? She started flapping her wings wildly, not to fly, but to make herself look bigger and more intimidating. She charged, screeching the most terrible, filtered-profanity screeches she could manage.

Kraaah! (You little shit!)

Kreee! (I will pluck you bald!)

Kraw! (My feet are rated E for everyone!)

She was a whirlwind of dull feathers, furious kicks, and unfiltered spite. The mongoose, clearly not expecting its prey to turn into a feathered tornado of rage, hesitated. It took another kick to the snout.

IRATE MONGOOSE HP: 40%

STATUS: CONFUSED

With a final, irritated chitter, the mongoose decided this particular peacock was more trouble than it was worth. It turned tail and vanished back into the bushes.

Su stood there, panting, her feathers ruffled and askew. A final notification popped up.

COMBAT ENDED! VICTORY!

+25 EXP!

NEW TITLE UNLOCKED: ‘Feathered Fury’

‘Feathered Fury’: Slightly increases Intimidation factor against small mammals.

Feathered Fury… Yeah, that tracks. Okay. Okay. I just fought off a mongoose. I’m a peacock. A male peacock. This is my life now. Nope. Unacceptable.

She turned her full attention back to the system screen, which had returned to its default, welcoming mockery.

“Alright, you glowing bastard,” she muttered, though it came out as a series of low clucks. “How do I fix this? How do I break the curse? How do I turn back into a human? Or at the very least, a peahen? Did that moody feathered fuck even look at my gender before he cursed me?!”

The system shimmered.

QUERY RECEIVED: CURSE REVERSAL PROTOCOLS.

ANALYSIS…

CURSED BY: RESPLENDENT FEATHER, SKY-DANCER CLAN.

CURSE SEVERITY: PETTY AND VINDICTIVE.

REVERSAL CONDITIONS: HOST MUST REACH LEVEL 25 AND COMPLETE 3 (THREE) DESIGNATED ‘TRIALS OF CHARACTER’.

UPON COMPLETION, HOST WILL BE GRANTED THE ABILITY TO SHAPE-SHIFT INTO THEIR ORIGINAL HUMAN FORM.

Level 25. Three trials. I’m going to pluck that Resplendent Feather bastard one quill at a time and use him as a duster. Fine. Whatever. Just lay it on me, you glowy rectangle of misery. What’s the first ‘Trial of Character’? Do I have to compliment a squirrel? Forgive the mongoose?

She focused all her will, imagining her thoughts as laser beams aimed at the system. Tell me the quests!

The system shimmered, the peacock-feather border seeming to pulse with light.

TRIALS OF CHARACTER INITIALIZING...

ASSESSING HOST'S CURRENT... DISPOSITION...

CALCULATING...

A new progress bar appeared, filling slowly with golden light. Su watched it with a sliver of hope. This was the way back to thumbs, to coffee, to telling people exactly what she thought of them with a proper human tongue.

Come on, come on... Just give me a task. I'll do it. I'll fight a hundred mongooses. I'll... I'll be marginally less sarcastic for a whole five minutes. Just give me a way out of this feathery nightmare.

The progress bar reached 100%.

TRIALS OF CHARACTER LOCKED.

A list began to scroll onto the screen, each line appearing with a soft, chime-like sound that felt like it was mocking her.

TRIAL THE FIRST: THE QUIET MIND...

Oh, hell no.

TRIAL THE SECOND: THE HUMBLE HEART...

You have got to be kidding me. This is a joke, right?

TRIAL THE THIRD: THE...

The third trial never appeared.

A shadow fell over her. It was large. It blocked out the sun. This wasn't the skittering menace of a small predator. This was the heavy, inevitable presence of an apex.

The system screen flickered, the elegant script distorting into jagged, urgent text.

WARNING!

CATASTROPHIC THREAT DETECTED!

FOE: SHADOW-STALKER PANTHER (CURSED BEAST - LEVEL 30+)

HOST SURVIVAL PROBABILITY: 0.002%

RECOMMENDATION: FLEE.

Flee? FLEE WHERE?!

Slowly, mechanically, Su craned her long neck upward.

Perched atop the high rock wall of her enclosure, silhouetted against the bright sky, was a panther. But it was wrong. Its fur wasn't just black; it was a void, a patch of absolute darkness that seemed to drink the light around it. And its eyes... its eyes were two pools of molten, malevolent emerald.

It stared down at her, not with the simple hunger of the mongoose, but with a deeply cursed hatred. It wasn't just looking for a meal. It was looking for her.

It opened its maw, revealing teeth like shards of obsidian, and let out a sound that wasn't a growl, but a vibration that shook the very dirt beneath her feet.

SYSTEM OVERRIDE! EMERGENCY PROTOCOL!

INITIATING...

The system screen vanished.

The panther coiled its powerful haunches, the shadows around it intensifying.

And then, it leaped.

Not just a jump, but a liquid streak of darkness, flowing down the wall with impossible, silent grace, heading directly for her.

The last thing Su Ian Hoo saw was the void opening up to swallow her whole.