Martha lay back on the bed, and listened as Jakalak went over the possible choices for her race. She knew she was broken; her parents had driven that into her awareness for as long as she'd been alive and conscious. She also knew what she wanted now.
No matter how horrible this place was, no matter how much everything here was designed to kill her, it could turn her into something else. She wanted that chance. She wanted to become something so strong, so smart, so wise, that her parents could never touch her again. "I want to be a dragon," she said.
Jakalak nodded, slowly. "It's a strong race. Likely you won't be able to reproduce, or even marry, and it'll reduce your choice of classes. But if that's what you want..."
"That's what I want," Martha said.
Jakalak sent her the selection screen, and she clicked on Dragon.
It wasn't pain, exactly. It wasn't unconsciousness, exactly, either. But when she came back up out of it, she could feel the shape of her new body.
It had wings.
It had claws.
It had teeth. Oh, so many teeth. It stalked around on four legs, and balanced with a tail. And OH, she wasn't broken anymore.
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