Gwen is visible from head to toe, her long wavy brown hair cascading over her shoulders, framing her fearful face. She wears a very short flowered cocktail dress, opaque tan Nylonica brand tights that sheath her legs and feet completely, and no shoes. A bunny ear headband sits askew atop her head, with a fluffy bunny tail pinned to her dress. Her legs are pressed together, feet flat on the disc, frozen in place as her eyes dart anxiously around the sterile room, searching for escape.
"Where am I?... Why can't I move?....What are you doing to me!?" The echo of her terrified voice bounces off the cold metallic walls, intensifying her isolation. Her breath catches as she realizes she cannot move, locked in a rigid pose. The silence in the room is oppressive, broken only by the distant hum of machinery behind the walls.
Gwen continues to scan the sterile space, her panic mounting with every second. She notices the opaque tan tights hugging her legs more tightly than before, the branding unmistakable—Nylonica bunny tights. The disc beneath her feet begins to glow faintly, energy crackling and sparking around its edges, yet her feet stay rooted, unable to break free.
"I am wearing Nylonica bunny tights? I am about to be Nylonized?" Her voice trembles, blending fear with dawning realization. The glow intensifies, enveloping her feet in shimmering light, the sensation both chilling and electric. She strains to lift her feet, but the tights hold her fast, as if fused to the disc.
The transformation accelerates—Gwen’s face contorts in terror, her pupils beginning to glow with an unnatural luminescence. Her legs and feet remain firmly planted, the opaque tan tights now gleaming faintly in the pulsing energy. She feels the fabric tightening, becoming almost liquid, as if merging with her skin.
"The tights.... becoming nylon....must give in!" Gwen cries out, her voice echoing with desperation. Her body remains motionless, but her mind struggles against the sensation of surrender. The energy climbs, swirling around her, distorting her sense of self as the process nears completion.
Gwen stands perfectly still, her legs and feet transformed—her opaque tan Nylonica tights now have a slight shine, almost reflective in the harsh lighting. Her face is blank, a vacant smile settling across her lips, her eyes wide and empty as she stares directly ahead. The bunny ears and tail remain, symbols of her new identity.
"Nylonization complete, I am a nylon bunny unit, I am ready for service" Gwen’s voice is lilting, monotone, devoid of emotion. She does not move, her body unnaturally rigid, her transformation fully realized within the lab’s sterile confines. The silence lingers, signaling the end of the process and the beginning of her new existence.
