Undercover Blue Riot (Transmigration)

Sign 8 It'll Be Your Last

Cyril stood on the waves, it was early morning, around four o'clock. The sky was clear, the stars were shining and the moon was slowly melting in the sky, looking enormous in the deep blue sky, the craters upon it were clear but translucent. He held his surfboard and felt the temperature of the waves, all he could hear were waves. He had closed his eyes, his long, brunette hair, ending reddish-brown at the cuticle, swinging in the salt air, the ocean seemed to be calling him. He opened his eyes, they were shining in beautiful heterochromia, like a kaleidoscope, he ran into the ocean, got on his board and let the waves take him away. He did a few tricks, not yet sure about the aerial tricks because he didn't know to handle that female body. But that didn't worry him a bit, what did worry was,

'How do I summon that whale again?' He thought to himself as he surfed on the turf, 'Or better question, how did it go inside him in the first place? And does that have anything to do with these regular transformations? Wait...' 

Tristian soon reached the beach to practice too when he saw Cyril surfboarding. His hair was long, his legs were slender, he observed him from the beach for a while and finally concluded, "...That's not a dude,"
Cyril brought his board down, it was time he tried an aerial! Tristian held his breath and looked at him, anticipating he does it right, but as expected, he went up, lost the board control because gravity is a thing that depends on the mass of a body, a mass he wasn't sued to because it was a straight twenty kilos difference! 

So naturally, the waves took him into the arms rather brutally, slapping his entire body. Jokes on all those wannabe alpha guys in the world, nature is more daddy than anyone, get over it. The pain hit him like lemonade splashed on a fresh sunburn. He swam his way back up and grabbed the surfboard, walking out to the beach. He felt safe though, at least no one saw him, until he looked a bit further a saw a disappointed Tristian.

Cyril was in his wet surf suit, his body-a perfect hourglass. He wasn't gonna fool anyone with breasts like those. He turned back immediately, "Fuck, I should've worn some loose clothes!"
No use hiding those tits, your ass in itself is bigger than your entire self-esteem as a woman. Tristian however, focused on his hair, "You grew them pretty fast," Last time they met was just a week ago, Cyril had short hair then, thanks to the wig. Tristian was rather impressed. He wanted to grow his hair too.

It was his dream to have a Jesus Christ moment in his life.

Yet, he lacked dedication, ended up ruining them till they reached his shoulders and went to the barber at last. Cyril looked at his very feminine breasts, "Yeah, it just..."
'What the fuck do I say?'
He's asking about your hair, not your chest.

The waves were just creating an awkward background noise now, no more sense of serenity, peace, fuck all that, "My transition, as you can see, was not very successful,"
Tristian now looked at his ass, "Why do you even want to be a guy though?"
He doesn't. Just leave him alone, Jesus Christ. Cyril was about to answer when a Crab bit his little finger, "AH!" He shrieked and began jumping on one leg while Tristian just stared at him.

One word.
Australian wilderness.

Glizzly stood at his room's window, looking at the ocean far away. Green trees. Blue sky. Green clouds. He shook his head, 'Nope, not falling for that again,'
No more green and blue filters, he was over him! He told him again and again, he was over him! Distractions. Distractions! He felt the cigarette in his pocket, he grunted his teeth. 

He promised he wouldn't drink, smoke or trip.
But...Just one cigarette won't kill him, would it?
No, but he promised his mother!
But how would she ever know? She was probably asleep. He'd just smoke at the window and chew a mint tablet, it's all good.