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IN the confines of the room he'd been assigned for the night, Simon Riley stood before a tiny mirror and peered into a stranger's eyes. In a few short hours, Blue Team Alpha would be leaving behind the giant intergalactic ship to make its ascent into Pandora.
Everything he saw was him, through and through. The body he was now in was Simon Riley in all its similarities to his human self, but the golden-yellow eyes that stared back were alien. Nothing like the familiar chocolate brown irises he'd once possessed, or the pale skin and dark blonde hair he'd possessed his entire life as a human.
The cloth mask with the printed skull was still covering the majority of his face besides the span of his eyes, a semblance of familiarity lingering to provide 'comfort' as the scientists had said shortly after he woke up. His face overall was skinnier, eyes larger, and he could not for the life of him wrap his head around the ears that protruded from the sides of his head and moved in response to sound.
He felt like some weird animal in a freak show.
The deeper he dove into his self-reflection in front of the mirror, he realized every memory that flashed in his mind felt foreign and so very far away. A house in Machester, England he knew all too well, and the feeling of dread it brought that made his heart skip. Years of training to become an officer and effective killer. A ride on a helicopter, returning fire at assailants below.
Things experienced by a man long dead, the man who made the memories in his head.
"Fuck," he muttered to himself in exasperation, caught somewhere between confusion and dread. He didn't know how to feel about this all. Was he supposed to be angry that the old Simon Riley had died and he was expected to pick up where he left off? Those actions felt like a different person, some stranger a world away.
The scientists had informed him he might feel weird a while after waking up. That his memories might feel foreign and far away, seemingly only belonging to the man he was before. They'd claimed things would fall into place within a few hours at most.
Yet, they hadn't warned of this. This imposter syndrome that was settling over him like an endless chill.
With one hand, he pulled away the mask to reveal his bare face to the mirror. He stared for what felt like minutes. The room was quiet and the light dim, but the only thing he felt inside was dread and the inescapable reality of his situation.
Quirking his lips, sharp white canines revealed themselves from behind his lip.
"Who the fuck are you?" He murmured to himself, eyeing the canines. One of his hands then ran over his face, over the flat, feline nose, irregular stripes, and dimly glowing dots of his cyan skin. The weird braid at the back of his head had been probably the oddest thing to discover alongside the tail, glowing pink tendrils swirling when the end hairs were pushed aside.
