Transformations

Professor Baranova's Pacific Northwest Laboratory

His eyes cracked open only to close again due to the sun's blinding light that seeped through the windows of his room. For some reason, his head was pounding, and he didn't feel like getting up just yet.

"I need to get some curtains," he muttered before pulling the covers over his head...or at least tried to. The fabric wouldn't budge no matter how hard he pulled.

Annoyed, he sat up to check if someone was playing a prank on him and found that everything in his room was much bigger than he remembered.

Scratching his helm really set him off. He felt something akin to fur on his helmet. Now he was sure someone was pranking him.

Groaning, he moved to get up to see what was on his helm when he caught a glance of his servos and almost fell off the berth.

To his utter horror, his shiny purple paint job was replaced by a coat of—fair brown skin. His sleepiness vanished, and panic began to set in.

"Ahh!" He tore out of his chambers in alarm and ran around the main living quarters in search of a mirror or any reflective surface.

In all his panic, he nearly ran into Graham, who was staggering down the hall with a mug of coffee in hand. Blurr dug his heels into the ground and miraculously managed to evade spilling the hot beverage all over the young doctor.

Still half asleep, Graham vaguely registered the stranger before him, who sounded an awful lot like Blurr.

"Graham! I- I woke up feeling dizzy, a-and when I looked down at my servos, I had 5 digits instead of 4 and—" Blurr blabbered on and on about his current dilemma until realization hit Graham like a pile of bricks.

"Blurr?" His jaw hung ajar, but his hand somehow managed to keep hold of the mug's handle.

"Uh, yeah." Blurr nodded, feeling uneasy under Graham's unbelieving stare. "What?...D-do I look bad?! I need a mirror!" His panicking intensified.

Graham tried to shake his head, but a muffled yell snapped him back to reality and nudged him to check up on Salvage.

"Come on, I'll help you find a mirror in a minute." Graham ran towards Salvage's room but was quickly outrun by Blurr.

The hallway seemed much longer than Blurr remembered, but he realized it was due to his new size.

Finally finding his friend's door, he didn't bother knocking and reached for the handle- only to find it was gone. He facepalmed and looked up to see the doorknob was way too high for him to reach.

Not seeing many options, he hastily pounded on the metal door and immediately felt a surge of pain run through his knuckles. "Frag!" He hissed and cradled his throbbing serv—hand with the other one.

Graham soon arrived and winced at Blurr's reddened hand. He looked back to the door and lightly knocked. "Salvage?" When he received no response, he pressed his palm against the scanner, and the large slab of metal began to slide open.

Once inside the room, they were shocked to find a tall guy awkwardly standing in a corner. His shaggy hair was a shade or two darker than Graham's, and his skin complexion was semi-dark tan.

He looked up from his trembling hands to see Graham and a stranger wearing the same simple white attire that he wore.

His irises were a soft orange—almost yellow in color, and at the moment, they were clouded with confusion. Graham read the silent questions in his eyes and could only sigh and shrug in response.