The facility's hallways felt colder than before. Yazmina's mind swirled with unanswered questions as she retraced her steps back to Playcare, her thoughts bouncing between the missing rabbit, Misty's sudden disappearance, and the unsettling implications of the poppy gas trials.

The rabbit had changed.

Missy was changing too.

Unlike the children, she knew exactly what Missy had been taken for. The Bigger Body Initiative wasn't just a standard experiment-it was the culmination of months, if not years, of secretive planning by the highest-ranking members of the organization.

She had always suspected there was more to the poppy gas research than what she had been told, but after what happened with the rabbit, she was beginning to understand the horrifying reality of it all.

And she had played a bigger role in it than she wanted to admit.

When she had first been assigned to study the effects of the gas on smaller test subjects, she had thrown herself into the research.

She had meticulously recorded the rabbit's behavioral shifts, observed the neurological adjustments, and even contributed to refining the gas's composition to enhance its transformative properties.

At the time, she had convinced herself it was all in the name of science-advancement, discovery.

Now, watching the pieces fit together, she wondered if she had been complicit in something far worse.

She needed answers.

Yazmina moved swiftly through the facility, heading toward the restricted labs. If Missy had been taken for the Bigger Body Initiative, she would be here.

Her security clearance let her slip past most checkpoints unnoticed, but she still moved carefully, avoiding lingering staff and security cameras. As she neared one of the observation rooms, she heard voices.

"... responding faster than expected."

Dr. Crane.

Yazmina pressed herself against the wall, listening.

"Neurological pathways are stabilizing, muscle fibers reinforcing. Her body is adapting exceptionally well."

Another voice responded, low and measured-one she did not recognize personally, but had heard mentioned in hushed conversations.

Harley Sawyer.

She remained still. She had studied his reports but never met him. His involvement in this project had always been a subject of secrecy. He was a name in the shadows, always present in the data, yet rarely seen.

Yazmina peered through the small window in the door.

Inside, under the harsh glow of sterile lights, stood a figure.

Tall.

Slender.

Pink fur.

She had expected it.

Missy's back was turned, her elongated arms hanging at her sides, her movements slow, deliberate. The oversized blue bow still sat at her neck, a haunting reminder of the girl she used to be.

Then, Missy shifted slightly-and Yazmina saw her face.

Big black pupils, just like before... but framed by thick, dark lashes.

Yazmina studied her with a clinical gaze. There was no shock, no hesitation. This was the natural progression of the experiment.

Missy wasn't just adapting.

She was becoming something else.

And she didn't seem to realize it.

Crane continued his report, speaking in hushed but eager tones. Missy stood still, her elongated fingers flexing slightly, as if testing their strength. She wasn't fully changed yet-but it was only a matter of time.

Yazmina exhaled slowly and stepped back from the door.

There was no stopping this.

But she could still learn from it.

Since she had refined the poppy gas herself, it may not be perfect, but she knew that if it was used for greater experiments, it would make the subject less aggressive and allow them to retain some basic human thinking.

That meant Missy had a chance.

Her transformation wasn't like the others-not entirely. Yazmina's formula had been modified before she even understood its full scope, but she had left behind safeguards. If Missy's mind was still intact, then the poppy gas had worked differently than expected.

And that meant Missy could be studied further.

The idea unsettled her. Not because she didn't want to learn the truth-she did. But the truth had consequences.

Dr. Crane and Harley Sawyer would want more data. They would push Missy further, test her limits, see how much of her humanity remained. And if she was still aware? If she still felt? Yazmina couldn't begin to imagine what they would put her through.

She had to be careful. She couldn't interfere, not openly. But if she played her cards right, she could stay close to the research, monitor Missy's progress, and maybe even steer it away from the more inhumane aspects.

For now, Missy didn't know what was happening to her.

But soon, she would.

And Yazmina needed to be there when she did.

-

That night, when the facility fell into its routine lull, Yazmina made her move.

She had memorized the guard rotations, the camera blind spots. Every step was measured, every breath controlled. The lab was mostly empty-Crane and the others had finished their analysis for the day, and security in these halls was minimal compared to Playcare.

She moved like a ghost, slipping past the glass walls, until she reached the intercom panel. It was linked directly to the observation room.

She pressed the button.

A low hum crackled through the speaker. Missy stirred.

Yazmina waited, observing.

Missy's head tilted slightly, as if responding to the sound, but she did not speak.

She couldn't.

Only a low, guttural sound came from her throat-a strained, animalistic grunt. It was deep, unnatural, a far cry from the voice she once had.

Yazmina remained silent.

Then, for just a second, Missy's gaze lifted, and their eyes met through the glass.

The moment was fleeting, almost imperceptible. But something shifted.

Missy's pupils contracted, then dilated-something inside her stirred, distant yet familiar. She didn't know who the woman behind the glass was, but for a brief moment, a strange calmness settled over her.

A stark contrast to the confusion and disarray that had clouded her mind since the transformation began.

She felt... safe.

The tension in her shoulders lessened. Her elongated fingers, once restless and twitching, slowly relaxed. The subtle urge to thrash, to resist, dulled into stillness.

Yazmina tilted her head slightly.

It was enough.

She released the intercom button and turned away, disappearing into the facility's darkness before anyone could notice she had been there.

Missy watched her go, her breath slow and steady.

She didn't understand what had just happened.

She didn't understand why.

But the presence behind the glass had done something to her.

For the first time since waking up like this, she didn't feel afraid.

She didn't feel alone.

And as the room fell into silence, she remained still-docile, waiting.